Elusively Beautiful

Beauty, needless to say, has a way of escaping the eye. Specially the eye that isn't hunting for beauty. There definitely are things that are strikingly beautiful, and without objectifying anything or anyone, there are too many a people who, in public opinion, are unanimously considered beautiful. But what to do with all the things that everyone agrees on? It is in looking for diamonds in places no one thinks of, and more so finding a diamond in such a place, that makes one realize the real charm of life.

Coming back to beauty, it obviously, more than anything else, lies in the eye of the beholder.

And I was fortunate enough to call myself the beholder, albeit for a very short span of time.

If you look at her on an average day, for all you know, you wouldn't notice her, until you talk to her, feel the enthusiasm in her eyes..

I call her 'the Mirror'. Why? Talk to her for a while. Just pay her a bit of your attention, and you will notice your own emotions being reflected back at you. While the previous line may not make much sense, one surely needs to witness her eyes to understand what I just said. I just happen to have had the opportunity to witness her enthusiastic eyes, not once, but many times.

As far a appearance went, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary that she wore on the day, that would come across as 'striking'.

I came across a saying somewhere... It goes like this.. “If a lady is poorly dressed, you'll notice the dress. If she is impeccably dressed, you'll notice the lady”. Although the saying is slightly out of place, what I want to say here is about the way she carried herself, more so, how beautifully she did so in the simple attire that she was wearing. Nothing overstated. More than anything, what added to her beauty was the smile she wore, which she actually always does, if you notice carefully.

It all happened about a week before. I was slightly skeptical about asking her out for a dance during my college festival, mostly out of a fear of getting slapped. But we were good friends, and thankfully, we had been that way for a while now. So, for all it was worth, I took the risk of getting slapped and asked her out anyway. Thankfully, she turned out to be the forgiving type. So I (narrowly) escaped getting slapped. Fortunately, I also realized that I live in a world where people seldom look beyond ostensible details, which turned out to be good for me. So now, I had a gorgeous lady by my side, whom no one would noticed until it was too late... for the world to see what they had missed out on. And for the sake of heavens, I couldn't hide my excitement, which I apparently managed to hide very well, for she probably still doesn't know how madly my chest was thumping when she came along with her friend to meet me..

I was standing with a friend of mine, waiting for her to arrive at the venue. My friend was asking me about my plans for the afternoon. All he knew was that there was a dance workshop being conducted near to where we were standing. I was just telling him how I was planning to pick up the first single lady around to accompany me to the dance workshop. He looked at me mockingly. Even I just laughed it off as a joke. At this point, I was almost nervous that 'she' would skip out on me. That sure a hell was a stupid thought, but it was a thought nevertheless...

I was just about to turn around when she and her friend came along to the venue. Just to play along with my friend, who, I suppose was still unaware about my devious 'pre-arrangements', I pretended as though I didn't know the two ladies who had suddenly turned up.

I just told my friend to wait and watch my magical charm, as I would try to ask one of the two ladies out for a dance..

So I turned to one of the two beautiful ladies,(to My lady, of course.... ) and asked her, in my most gentle-manly manner “Would you like to go to dance with me?”...

What I was most afraid of was that she would say a “No”, maybe just for the fun of it. Goodness!! That would have been an absolute disaster!!

But what came as a response to my question made me feel like the king of the world for that moment, and for many more to follow...

For starters, she smiled, displaying all her 32, and said what sounded like a resounding “Yes!”. Man!! If life were a cassette, I would just like it to get stuck on that stretch of time between her smiling and the 'yes' coming out of her. Okay, NO! NO! NO! NO! In that case, I wouldn't have been able to dance with her.. So chuck the idea of the cassette getting stuck anywhere.

There is something so overwhelming about a lady willingly submitting herself to your touch. The very thought that your lady trusts you, makes you want to treat her to the best of your abilities. And secretly, it makes you feel so much stronger, not because of your inherent advantage in terms of pure strength, but for the sole reason that you now want to do everything in your power to keep her out of harm's way at any cost. Just like how a woman primes her senses the moment she feels a threat for her off-springs or her dear ones, there surely is a male analogy to the same process.

There were a bunch of couples who had turned up to attend the workshop. We were all made to stand in a huge circle, and exchange partners, moving all around, until we completed an entire circle to come back to our original partners. And each time I completed the circle, I was the most happiest person alive! I sure as hell hope she shared my feelings... If not that, the very least I hope is that she didn't utter something under her breath like “Oh shit! The arsehole's back!!”... which I am sure she didn't... well, almost sure...... Okay, she probably did mutter “Oh shit! The arsehole's back!!” under her breath....

So after a lot of lifting, laughing, turning, twisting and also a little what we considered to be dancing, the evening came to an end..... Happyz endingz...

I was glad for the way it went.. Now, for what I am about to say next, imagine me jumping like a nine year old girl when she gets her first Barbie doll/doll house or something. “I TOOK A LADY TO A DANCE!!! YAY!! YAY!!”...or rather “A LADY ACTUALLY AGREED TO ACCOMPANY ME TO A DANCE!!! YAY!! YAY!! YAY!!”.

Among my folks, I am considered a real brute when it comes to mannerisms. So when I told my fellows about I taking a lady to a dance, they all(okay, just my three fellows), each one of them (rascals), individually told me “Dude, please, for the love of humanity, behave well, PLEASE!”.

I always responded with a “Yeah...OKAY...”. Guess it went fine.

As for the beautiful lady repeatedly mentioned above, if anyone's wondering who it was, for the love of myself, I wouldn't tell a soul. If you ask “why so?”, I'd say “Hard luck, buddy...”.

Someone has to do it

It was kind of an epiphany that hit me in the middle of a conversation I was having with a close friend of mine. And to be true, it wasn't an epiphany, as much as I would like to call it one. What it was, was something my that friend just said while we were talking.  We both are running our own little marathons, behind our dream-trains, he behind his, I behind mine.. It's probably why we get along well. Anyway, Here's how this post started...

My friend recently started a band of his own with two more blokes, which makes them a 3 piece band, in case no one's keeping a head count. From whatever little I know of the way the band functions, from what my friend tells me, it looks like this friend of mine seems to be the most enthusiastic of the lot to go ahead with what these folks started off with, which is another way of saying that he does all the running around. Now that is a good thing. Why it is so, I know not. 

So we were chatting about the band's latest performance, and how he was happy about how things were working out. I asked him, if he minds doing all the donkey-work. As a response, he said "Someone has to do it...".

The line hit me like a wave. There's no arguing the fact that what he said had nothing profound in it.

But what hit me was the simplicity, rather the truth in what he said. 

I have a story of my own, my dream-train I am running after... I have my own team of blokes who is into doing 'stuff', which involves wading through a lot of red-tapism to get things done. Now that has it's own set of perks and quirks. But sometimes, the perks and quirks get all mixed up and I get really shit-pissed... Okay, that came out wrong.

Basically, I feel I am the only one running around to get things done, or the only one who wants to do 'stuff' in the first place. A strange sense of despondence surrounds me sometimes, to see the absolute lack of enthusiasm in my folks, who are supposed to come along and conspire along with the universe to make my dream come true. Surely it is a dream that all my folks and I share, and wish it be fulfilled someday in the near future, but these things don't strike you when you are at a low point of your day.

But someone, I don't know who, throws a stone at my head, and then this thought hits my head that "Whatever it is I am doing, I am doing it for my own satisfaction more than anyone else". And just just to prevent getting beaten up the next time I see my blokes, in case any of them happens to read this, I must also mention that, its not like they are not there at all. They do manage to cover my backside when needed. Phew!! 

As a matter of fact, the very fact that I have the liberty to call my blokes 'my blokes', itself is a constant reminder of how things eventually work out between us, somehow... Anyhow..

There is a thing about the fancy term called 'organisational behaviour', from the little I  do/don't understand about the terminology. No matter how much psychology we put into the working of an organisation, irrespective of it's size, no one can circumvent donkey-work.

As far as individual roles in an organisation are concerned, there is an article I had read a while ago. It's called 'I, pencil' written by this fellow called Leonard Read, somewhere in 1958. It is a biography of a pencil.

Now, how a pencil's biography can have anything related to the behavior of an organisation is anyone's guess. To begin with, why would anyone write a biography for a pencil??

Actually, the article could have been about anything. For all we know, it could have been called 'I, pod'. But Steve Jobs was about 6, so it surely couldn't have been 'I,pod'...

What this article describes is how a pencil comes into the form we recognize a pencil in. It all starts in graphite quarries, where all the graphite gets mined, which then goes into the core of a pencil. The quarry workers haven't a clue where the graphite will go. It is sad, although safe to say that they might not even know what a pencil is. They get payed their daily wages, go home to make ends meet, give their children a better future, which may involve buying pencils for them, some of which might have the same graphite in their cores, which might be coming out of the quarry the worker gets his daily pay from. 

The article then talks about all the subsequent procuring and processing steps that go into giving a pencil it's shape. What the article focuses on is that no single one in the 'Pencil-making' industry knows how to make a pencil from scratch. Few may know the entire chain of processes involved in making a pencil. But here's the deal. Knowing about a step, and successfully executing that step are two things, a world apart. You and I may have learnt about the equipment used for mining graphite(for instance). That knowledge, in no way, necessarily translates into out ability to execute the mining process, given that we have all the requisite equipment at our disposal. Mind you, the key word here is 'necessarily'. Of course, there are those of us who love DIY(do-it-yourself) kits!

But point here being that we need professionals at some, if not all steps of making anything.

Just to oversimplify things, the bet footballer may have no idea of how to make the best shoe for playing football. That involves sports scientists working nights off to study and understand the anatomy and bio-mechanics of the human foot. These scientists may know about the working of the human foot, but in most cases, they'll suck at playing football, because these folks had buried themselves in books when the football players were out playing.

What it all boils down to is that at the end of the day, to accomplish a task, we do not need everyone on the team to have the knowledge about everything that there is to pulling off the task. Each one standing up to what they are good at, at the right time is more than enough to deliver a happy ending. More importantly, we need to have faith that somehow, anyhow... each one of our blokes will stand up to the occasion when needed of them....

 Below is the link to the article 'I, Pencil' for anyone interested in checking it out..

http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/I,_Pencil

wondering wanderer

The world seems to be moving past, as it usually does. Actually, it has been a while since the world has started moving a lot faster than it usually does. The mind  has been moving along too, albeit at a pace of it's own. It feels like moving in free space, whatever that may feel like. No pull from gravity, no push from the crowd desperately trying to get to their destination. It's hard to explain what one's feeling.. Probably there is no feeling at all. 

Or there is so much of a sensory overload that everything feels like white noise, like the sound that you hear when you plug both your ears. It's that sound, that lets you know that you exist. You know that you exist when you have a skull piercing head-ache, the head-ache, obviously a result of the white noise. the Head-ache/White-noise combo goes hand in hand. 

For some reason, you look around. Nothing really moves around in free space, you know? It feels like an endless walk, specially when no one gets tired walking, like moving through a tunnel with a visible white dot you can see at the other end. But you have been walking long enough to have covered four times the length of the tunnel in your mind, but the white dot hasn't grown one bit bigger. It's probably because you have been walking only in your mind all along. So no matter how long you walk inside your head, sorry, no progress! Or maybe you have been walking on a treadmill. Seen those folks in the gym?? Little dumb folks huffing and puffing on the same spot for hours on end, moving not an inch forward from the place from where they began. 

Never mind, thankfully, you are in free space. So until someone else too is on acid, you..... are highly unlikely to see anyone waving at you, which, maybe for now, is a good thing.. maybe not. But who gives a shit??

Watch little pieces of rock float around. If you have lost enough neurons, you will start to think you are Saturn. By the way, even though everything might sound 'Greek' right now, you imagining yourself as Saturn has no connection with the Saturn, the Greek god. Yeah, so just in case you can look into some mirror and see a big ball with a belt tied around it, specially a belt without a buckle, congratulations! You now officially have your own asteroid belt!! Wow! You must look beautiful. 

And for all I know, I must look drunk. But then, I don't really see a mirror floating nearby, so no way I could say what I look like.

By the way, talking about little rocks floating around, watch out for the ones that are really hurtling at you faster than you can move around, specially if they have a long white tail. Just in case they are hurtling straight at you, don't worry, you won't see the tail, which is probably not a good thing. And by the way, if you are wondering how to save yourself from these things, please stay on hold... Your time is valuable, not necessarily to anyone you are having an imaginary conversation with. Although it is a comforting thought that your time is indeed important to someone on the other end of the line, you know exactly how phony the sentence is, to begin with. 

If things still seem to be making sense, WOW!! you're really high on good shit! Given your level of consciousness, you might just be one of the hurtling rocks I might be trying to escape!

Okay, now imagine yourself really flying across space at whatever speed you please. And in case you happen to be travelling anywhere close to Mr. Light's speed, I sure as hell would like to time the two of you over a 100 meters. Oh! Mr. Light already has a challenger! The guy's called Mr. Bolt. Damn, isn't he good or what! Mr. Bolt has taken the world by Storm! Wow! Bolts and storms! Why didn't the Weather Forecast fellows predict any of this stuff in the news?

Oi!! We were talking about you hurtling across space really fast. Things might be a blur. But now somehow imagine yourself on a collision course with the most biggest, the most static thing in all the multiverses put together! It'll be like the proverbial 'unstoppable versus immovable' event witnessed by time itself!! Or, more so, it would make you feel good to think about it that way, Either way, you are headed for this huge black screen like thing in the middle of nowhere at full speed.... And with all your impulse, momentum speed, velocity and ferocity, you bloody well hit it... HARRRD!! Really hard!! and felt nothing...

Whatever happened to your momentum, all you can hear, rather surprisingly is still that white noise you could very well hear at the beginning of it all.

It seems the screen-like thing we saw earlier is made out of Gorilla glass 10. So no scratches anywhere, what so ever. You know why?? There is no screen!! It is just a 1mm 'thin' rectangular wire frame through which you can poke your finger through and through!! As for the screen, it turns on....

It turns grey...

Then a silver apple  appears. Observe carefully enough and you'll notice that the apple is bitten, annnd!!!! annnd!! the bitten part is placed over the apple, made to look like a leaf of the apple. 

Suddenly, a holographic Steve Jobs appears on the screen. He looks like Big Brother straight out of George Orwell's 1984, the same Big Brother, whom he wanted to defy in his legendary ad while launching his Apple Mac. He pops up to announce that what you apparently seem to be looking at is the Iphone 10. 

Wrong song

Imagine yourself, all huffing, puffing, sprinting up the last flight of stairs imagining yourself as Rocky Balboa, all fists pumping into the air, like pistons inside a screeching Formula 1 engine. Actually, even better! You are jumping rope about 240 times a minute, imagining some really fast inspiring sound track, Here comes the tragedy. Some bloke near your house really cranks up this 10000 watt speaker that belongs to the nearby community....

Now, the speaker bellowing all it's bells is not even the beginning of the tragedy. Guess the song this smart-ass bloke plays to test the speaker...

The instrumental track of the movie 'Kal ho na ho' sounds good?? The one that really makes you cry??

Sure it sounds good!!

But only if you are wallowing in some loved one's memories. Not when you are seeing sparks fly each time your jump-rope hit the floor!!!

You see, the world is hard on everyone. So you still do everything to make the sparks fly off the ground each time the rope passes below your feet. But somehow, the song gets to your head at some subconscious level and you get all unnecessarily senti-mental. More so mental. I sure don't know why it happened to me when it did. It did. And I hated it. 

Another song that has been a real pain in the neck is this Malayalam song 'Karutha penne', which translates to 'Hey you dark girl!!'. It's turned into a real ear-worm, which unfortunately doesn't have any plans to leave my ear, and it's been like this for the past 4 days. Trouble with this song is that I have nick-named a good friend of mine 'Karutha pennu'(meaning Dark skinned girl). I gave this girl the nick-name long before this above mentioned song turned into an ear-worm. Very crudely speaking, this girly character seems to be occupying too much space in my head, all day long, and I have no clue if that is a good thing or not. I secretly hope this 'Karutha pennu',(a.k.a Blondie) sees this somehow...

Okay, moving on!

There's something about Malayalam songs that gets to you a lot more than songs of any other language for some reason, probably for the fact that "I am a Malayali" (Although I don't wear a Pink Lungi...)

There's this one, 'Innale, ente nenjile', meaning "Yesterday, in my err.... heart of hearts", (very inappropriate translation, mind you) that suddenly pops up in the middle of my mental playlist, specially when I am away in college. This one, as much as it sounds, is not a romantic song. It's a guy remembering his father. 

Now, we all know how screwed up a father-son relationship is. This duo, father and son, spend a lifetime without getting very sentimental upfront in public, each one knowing the strong undercurrents flowing beneath the apparent surfaces. So each time this song 'Innale, .....' plays inside my head, two streams start flowing form some place I can't see, my vision becomes blurry, and I want to see 'Pappa' very badly!!!

There are some times I really appreciate the inbuilt-ipod-feature in my head. Specially at times when I head out for a run. Some really perky song starts playing without my need to press the 'Start button'. Currently this song is 'Zinda', from the movie 'Bhaag Milkha Bhaag'. This internal music player even puts a song on 'loop' for you whenever needed... and also many a times, when it isn't needed.

But there's no replacement for a room-mate who knows your favorite songs and plays them when you are at an all time low, or when you don't feel like waking up for class. This fellow will play 'It's a long way to the top'(AC/DC) at 7:55 in the mornning. First thing you do is jump off the bed!! Second thing you do is YOU START DANCING!!!! Third thing you remember doing is reaching the 8 O' clock class ON TIME! 

It is absolutely amazing that so many human emotions are so conveniently expressed in songs. Crazy part is that you need real balls in case it involves expressing your emotions to another human. Now that's where a genetic mutation, that grows you an extra set of testicles, may come in handy. That would sure as hell be a gene worth isolating.. Extra balls?? Anyone??  

Scenes

DISCLAIMER!! All sentences within ** are thought bubbles of the protagonist

[SCENE 1]

It begins with a 5 year old fellow, surrounded by weird looking creatures thrice his size, or more, if you consider their circumferences, all holding a glass with colorful liquids. Suddenly, one of them bumps into our hero.

"Owww!! I am so sorry! You aren't hurt, are you, dear??"

"Oh no! Not at all, Aunty!"*Except for the fact that you just crushed my foot with your stilettos*...

"What's your name, dear??" *What's with the 'DEAR' eh?? Why wouldn't she just cut it? So much for high society manners*

"My name's Andy."

"ANDY... Hmm! what a sweet name!!" *There she goes off again...*

"I know, Aunty!"

"Haha!! You naughty little one"... *Even when you're 5, You can even spot their extra sweet diabetes inducing fake smile*

*I'm just hoping she doesn't ask me about my future plans...*

Now, a few people are gathering around the kid and the lady. Their conversation seems on a higher intellectual plane than the others, it seems.

"Hey Andy, What would you like to be when you grow up??"

"I'd like to be GREAT.."

This one really got the attention of all the others trying to make small talk among themselves. It was one of those moments when you feel everyone in the room exhaled out together, leaving the room in utter silence.

And thankfully,  after that, the Aunty character kept her zipper shut.... Yeah, she was wearing jeans.. Annd she'd forgotten to *zip* it up; that is, until I slyly pointed it out to her before fleeing the scene.

In an adult's head, if someone were to ask "What do you mean by great" to a 5 year old, the expected answer would be something like "Chocolate ice-cream!!".

And one thing I never understood. The moment 'normal' grown ups start talking to a kid, they become so un-creative!

It's like all those "Knock! Knock!" jokes...

It's always "Who's there???", ALWAYS!!

Why??? HUH??

Look through the peeping hole instead!! Dumb humans!!

Don't have a peeping hole?? Put one on the door!!!

[SCENE 2]

This one is a birthday scene.

The cake's in the middle of the room. For a few good moments, you can stand around thinking you are a serial killer, specially when the knife is in your hand! He he he he.. HE! HE! HE! HE! AAAHAHAHAHAHA!! That is supposed to be my version of a maniacal laugh.

Why do the folks around you clap all along the 'Happy birthday' song? eh?? its like

hap(clap)py bir(clap)th(clap)day (clap)to (clap)you (clap) (clap) (clap)

hap(clap)py bir(clap)th(clap)day (clap)to (clap)you (clap) (clap) (clap)

Laa laa la-la-lu-lu-lu-ho-ho-ho!!

all in rhythm so far. And all singing mindlessly... The worst part is when the clapping turns completely random after the song is over.  

Another thing about the cake!! Almost forgot!

 Once, my dad decided to skip on the fancy candle in the shape of my age... the most unnecessary piece of decoration on the cake! That too, it's inedible! Actually, the whole deal about candles has seemed stupid from the very beginning!

So this lady... another one of those 'aunty' characters comes along saying 

"अरे बच्चे के केक पे तोह वोह अच्छी  वाली मोमबत्ती नहीं लगाई ??"( You didn't put that fancy looking candle on the cake, eh kid?)

Thankfully, shutting up 'Aunty'-type characters is a hobby... so I retorted "Aunty, even you didn't have candles on your birthday cake, no?? I was inspired by your cost cutting measures, hence no fancy candles."

[SCENE 3]

I call this one 'Man in the mirror'

It happens about every time that I look myself in a big mirror. I imagine someone else playing me. Like someone (however jobless he/she be) made a biographical  movie on me.

There's a camera looming somewhere in the room with the big mirror, capturing me(or the fellow playing me), cluelessly looking into the mirror. And in the background, a very familiar voice , preferably Morgan Freeman's, says something like "Who would have known?? This bloke Andy would break out of a Stephen King novel, break into the silver screen, only to break out of Shawshank prison... but not before completely screwing the Jailor!! And MAN was I there in the same story!!"

Okay, maybe that's not what I'd like Morgan Freeman's lines to be in my bio-pic. But choosing the name 'Andy' just kind of makes sense now, in hindsight.

How about this?? Imagine everything in quotes as being said by Mr. Freeman...

"He was the guy who wanted to be great, even before he knew that there are things beyond chocolate ice cream that are supposed to be great!!.."

Okay, that one actually sounded like 

"I am the greatest, I said that even before I knew I was. "

Muhammad Ali

But never mind. 

Hasn't each one of us been in front of a mirror, thinking, "Here's the next star of the millennium!!" Most of us give the run-of-the-mill answers when we, as kids, are asked "What would you like to be when you grow up, kid??"

To be true to myself, [SCENE 1] is only a figment of my imagination. But then why not?  Ever heard a kid's answer leave the older fellows dumbfounded?? How easily, we, even when we are kids, we conform. And that's what we are made to do for the rest of our lives. 'FIT IN! ELSE YOU SHALL BE CHUCKED OUT!'

It's always the INs and the OUTs. Be it an elite group, club, some random list, company or just anything. 

How about being GREAT? At least in your dreams, if not in reality??

Trust me, it feels great... 

42 minutes

Goodness gracious!! I just got 42 minutes more of life left in me for today!I know, it sounds crazy, but this is one time I am feeling life slip out in front of my eyes!
Until now, this question "What would you do if this were your last day" has troubled me like hell. As vague and cliched this question might seem, it is kind of starting to make sense. Just imagine. All you have with you is a few minutes. Not even a freaking day! And the fellow who gave me this challenge was smart. REALLY smart. The fellow sure must have been desperate to try a new trick on some poor bloke, who this time, unfortunately happened to be me. You know why this fellow is so smart? The fucker kept a count-down style stop watch in front of me, and said "Here you go! You got 42 minutes to live until it is going to be midnight. Do all you can, say all you can, to whom so all and ever you can." I don't really know but today the watch just seems to be rolling along a lot faster. Not that I have too much experience of life. I don't even know how I know these words. For some reason, I happen to be able to locate the keys on this board sort of a thing without actually looking at them. That is even more weird. How did I know what a board was?
For some very odd reason, there's this face that's been bothering me ever since I began writing about 9 minutes ago. The face seems to be very clear. WAIT! Somehow, I know the name of the person, the face I am seeing. But something tells me to keep from typing the name. It feels like there is something about the person I subconsciously want to keep to myself. There's some kind of conflict in my head as to why I am withholding any knowledge I have about this person.
Crap!! Crap!! Crap!! I just paused for over a minute, just thinking about the face that's floating somewhere inside my head. Goodness!! Just 28 minutes more! Why am I not able to type any faster??
Okay, okay!! I remember... I was talking to her somewhere.... It looked like a very long stretch of road. She had company from before we met. Wait, it was another friend of hers. For some reason, the friend was walking slowly, looking into her cellphone, almost as if she was waiting for the two of us to move on. I couldn't really put anything together. I kept slowing her and myself and to allow the friend to catch up, but then the friend would kind of slow down. It happened two or three times.
Hold on!! Hold on! What in hell am I talking about??
I guess you should never let a man talk in his last moments. It seems the person who would blurt out everything that is not going to make sense to a single soul. It's like suffering from verbal diarrhea. Wow! Another long pause.. Now I guess I am not thinking anything. My mind feels like a clean slate, exactly what it looked like when I began writing.
I know not how I can picture these weird flying creatures, attracted to some light bulb. What I so know about these weird creatures, strangely enough, is that they have a lifespan of only one day. So Somewhere near the end of the day, these creatures are going to burn themselves in the heat of the bulb, by the way they are hovering near the bulb, or they are going to fall off, having exhausted all their life's energy.
Isn't it strange? They will get away with their life, hovering about a light bulb? Without knowing what they were meant to do?
There!! I lose another minute in pointless contemplation! What?! Only 15 minutes remaining!! What do I do? What do I do?! Thinking of these weird flying insects, I remember this scene from somewhere. I have no clue how it entered my thoughts, but here;s what the scene looks like. There's this street. It's packed with people, all moving in one single direction. It's probably a one way street. They are all dressed in black. It looks like a movie set for some reason. What I do not understand, is that all of them are wearing the same facial expression. And the expression on their face is not one I like . I have a fear of the Clown face. The one where the facial skin is all white.. There's a very thick eye-liner applied. The eyes look as though someone just punched them. The lips have been made to look extra red with lipstick. There's something peculiar about the smile that feels purely repulsive. The yellow teeth... There's a cut on either corners of the mouth, extending deep into the cheeks, as though to make the face smile permanently. But it just doesn't seem to  be working.
Shit! Just 5 minutes left.
I just can't see a thing except for this screen. It looks like my vision of the whole world has been reduce to my mind, this screen, the keyboard and my hands. And just when I looked at the clock at the corner of this screen, showing 4 minutes of life remaining, I just started feeling the seconds are just getting shorter!
No!! Wait!! Wait!! I got two minutes remaining!! Don't pull me away!! Someone stop this!!
Wait!! Hold it!! Hellllllllllllllppppppppppppp...!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Awesomeness!

There's a line I read a while ago. I can't exactly remember the exact wording, but it went something like this-

If you find yourself surrounded by douche-bags, you are probably looking at your surroundings, more so the people in your surroundings with a very narrow perspective. 

It is hard to come even close to realizing the amount of genius that surrounds us. And by genius, it is not a reference to the equation-solving blokes or the computer-nerds. There's all kinds of genius! Everywhere! The guy sitting next to us during lectures might be the next big artist.The thin lean girl, whom you might have only looked at because she looked cute, turns out, she has climbed Mt. Everest. The geek in your class, who is looked upon as just another number cruncher in the so called 'flawed' academic system? Turns out that he applied for an internship at New York University under a professor, got accepted, and dropped it all because he felt it would be too expensive a deal for his parents, whereas another guy, a year ago, went to CERN for an internship. Maybe, lets not just get mangled in purely academic examples. Remember the silent one in class? If situation demanded, he/she would have stood up for the class, and in all possibility, he/she did. Maybe that's why he/she no longer remained the 'Silent one' any more.  Many among us love to watch movies. But how many quotes could one recite without making a single error in the dialogue, or the style in which it was delivered in the movie? More importantly, how many fellows out there even pay extremely close attention to the intricacies of a dialogue, who actually revel in every word that comes out of every character's mouth? Actually, there are many. It's just that most don't notice. 

As a matter of fact, which may actually sound like I am boasting, it truly takes a genius to spot one. Be it any situation, if you are surrounded by people, there will always emerge the proverbial 'Ten gallon head', maybe not the same one each time, and maybe not just one each time. For a change sometimes, it just might be you or I. If you are already a 10 gallon head, RESPECT! If not(yet), as Steve Jobs said in his commencement speech at Stanford,

 "As with all matters of the heart, you will know when it is right. Keep looking for what you love to do." 

Okay, maybe, let's move a step beyond the obvious awesomeness we might already be used to. Let's do a kind of sound check. Remember the fellow who's smiling all the time, singing in his cacophonous tone each time you run into him in the hostel/college/apartment building corridor, almost like he's high 'full time'?? In all probability, he could be 'high....full time'. Also, maybe he's high on life, FULL TIME. So he doesn't give a flying pig's ass about those who do not like what he sings, SPECIFICALLY if no one has the balls to go and tell him regarding the same. The simple act of just enjoying the short life we have to the possible fullest takes a genius of another kind.

We are surrounded by awesomeness. The people around us are awesome! What the awesome people do, is awesome!(Yes, people are what they do. All apologies for the redundancy of the previous statement!) Realizing the awesomeness in the awesome things that awesome people do...is also awesome!

At the end of all of this, there is this very strange feeling that I experience each time I feel the abundance of awesomeness in human potential. The feeling I am talking about is, albeit extremely difficult to put into describe, but I feel a strange sensation in my chest and stomach. And NO, I do not have 'gas' issues. 

The feeling I am talking about seems like everything inside you,each cell is about to explode outwards. I feel extremely restless. Every moment lost, feels like the desperation for a gasp of air when you are drowning; like if you were told that you have only 10 more minutes of your life left on earth. It is just too powerful a sensation. It is these times I feel most inspired and motivated to nail anything and everything I do/am doing at that time. (Uh..oh..I see trouble in that last line....) I feel unbeatable. And I crave for these moments. It is strange, the human psyche. How it has the power to make one feel happy due to the success/triumph of another.

Look around. Feel the all-pervading ether of awesomeness. Can't see it? You ain't looking!