12. I Wish I Wrote

When the last living thing

Has died on account of us,

How poetical it would be

If Earth could say,

In a voice floating up

Perhaps

From the floor

Of the Grand Canyon,

"It is done."

People did not like it here.

-Kurt Vonnegut

VHEMT - Official Page

11. Intelligence

Click to view larger image

Seriously.

10.2 A Little Idea on Good and Evil

"eghanvat said,
.....The problem is, we are so accustomed to look for the exceptions that what we see and talk about generally tend to be anomalies. Like extreme poverty, people from some remote place, rape, war, etc.26 September, 2007 10:50"
comment from post #10 again

I've heard this view - not as often as the fatalist views that claim that the world is going to hell, or the people who believe that stock indices and free software are going to change India and humanity, respectively, for ever. What we talk about are the things that remind us that the world exists, or is capable of existing, different from the lives we lead.
The goodness of wikipedia and the horrors mentioned above, are Good and Evil, respectively; though on opposite sides of the fence, they are both equally different from the lives we live, or have grown accustomed to. Identical in magnitude, opposites in polarity. A mathematical concept we understand when doing math, but takes some time to apply to life.

You like being at the origin?

PS: Any posts that is numbered "x.y" means its the "yth post derived from post#x" as in this post and the one before this (10.2 and 10.1) both are a result of post#10 and its comments. Thank you :)

10.1 This Just Came In.

PIC COURTESY: http://www.xkcd.com/

If you read the comment on post 10, this should be familiar to you.

I've gotten to worse places, starting from something as harmless as the word "sleep" lol.

10. A Good Hour

MOOD---->Fresh from a mental bath

POST TYPE: Intro

LISTENING TO - Nothing. Too much noise.

After waxing eloquent on the need for freedom, it took me quite a while to realise that I was being fettered by a "minimum-post-length", and managed a short, but still sensible entry for the first time.

I just did something I relish a lot - Wikipedia surfing. When whoever said that "The best things in life are free" , I'm sure he/she was talking about Love, and Truth, and other abstractions of the mind, but I'm reminded of the line whenever I go to this website. Since I spend most of my time online, (courtesy a very convenient internet time-sharing arrangement with a friend of mine) voyages of self-discovery are often just a few mouse clicks away.

So, since I'm so in love with Wikipedia, it has become a routine of mine to start from some article of interest, and then go completely on a roll, clicking on everything within that page that is interesting...The freedom to follow my thought process is only limited by the number of open pages that my computer's RAM can handle, and the topics that Wikipedia has pages for. Whats more interesting is how far from the original page you can be, just an hour into the process. You could start from a run-of-the-mill movie, and the trivia section could take you on a ride to a beautiful new idea you weren't aware of, or something that makes you ask "Why didn't I think of that?". You could start from something as trivial as a TV show, and reach a person, a story, an event, a legend.

So I've just spent another such fulfilling hour..another branching of flowcharts...reading up things I didn't even know existed, but most of the times, I'm glad they do exist.

Its possible that my posts will be influenced by what I've been reading, and in case I find the article important enough, I'll leave the link here :) so you can know why I wrote what I wrote.

For now, I'll leave it at this. The journey has only begun.

9. Discovering ..Something

MOOD----> Alerter than the last post, but still..relaxed.
POST TYPE: FreeStyle.
LISTENING TO - Jal - Aadat

Admittedly, my last post wasn't my usual style, now, was it?



A quick scan (Okay, not exactly a quick scan) down my blog will reveal that I don't have a usual style, actually. I have moods, and I do try to decode my mood and write it down so that you can be warned. I read my friend Sharad's blog ... and I discovered i wasn't actually blogging at all...I mean, look at this.
Okay, I know I don't like conforming to this definition or that, but..you know, If I call it a blog , I need to write something about myself too I guess.
Its a weird and yet, nice time in life when you see so many things you want to do, and so little time.
Its like the past falls off, and the future is a banyan tree I'm standing under.(huh?) I mean there's so much that I can choose from here, and following those choices to their next level, in my mind, is a great pastime right now. Like a little flowchart in my head.
Also known as daydreaming. But seriously. They say youth's imagination is limitless, and the opportunities and chances are boundless...so here I am.

There's a n-pronged fork in the road - so many options that counting them would be equal to neglecting their value. I see myself in a hundred different versions and roles, each a new person in himself. The trick herein is to select the option that lets you keep the rest. To walk a path, and still have an eye on the other paths, because you didn't love them any less.

And I sit down to think what I've thought a million times over -Is life a mission or a dream?
The answers will take time...for now, the question is enough.

8. GOD, Unlimited

[A Brief Intro: Six Months since my last post - a course at NIIT and some tinkering with game programming - okay, that was for my conscience ;) ]

MOOD -----> Relaxed

POST TYPE : THOUGHT,EXTENDED. Go Figure. lol

LISTENING TO - Goo Goo Dolls - Iris

Religion and God have been at loggerheads inside my head for as long as I can remember. Being born into a ritualistic religion meant that I was completely free to stay a mindless devotee. I now consider it my luck and my privilege that I was given the option of meaninglessness within a spiritual framework, because it told me that even this is possible, and you have the option to get plain sick of it.
The freedom to know there is a barrier to be transcended, a prison I must know before I escape from it. As Jonathan Livingston Seagull would say, "to rise to the next level.. to learn high speed flying."

The religion I was born into,
is not distinguished by any superiority over other contemporaries, and has not even a chance of putting up a good fight when it comes to the War of Conversions. I’m a Hindu, and besides ignorance and pop culture references to “Swami”s and “Guru”s – I haven’t heard an informed view on Hinduism from anyone who’s not a Hindu(…and from Most Hindus as well). So, I have no idea what anyone outside of India would know about being a Hindu.

Hinduism, *for its part, has always been only a way of life, even in the Indian subcontinent, despite its plethora of Gods and customs. There is no standardised procedure for "creating" a Hindu out of someone, probably because when Hinduism originated, there were no other religions on this planet, only ways of life - Hinduism got its name ages after its origins in the "Vedic Civilization", seemingly from the Indus(colloq. Sindhu) river. No messiah, no single point in time when it can be said to have been “born”. It is distinctive.

However, *for its part, it has its own ‘atrocities and violations of human rights’ strewn throughout a history less global, but just as eventful, as any other religion.
But unlike other religions, which have moved with the times and adopted new media and technology for self-promotion - Cinema, Education, Literature - Hinduism and the average Hindu have become diluted. Despite the distinctive origins, it is, eventually, the same.
Some diluted by over-eager advertisers, some others diluted by unenthusiastic ones – all religions have the same fate.

Since my intention is not to attempt a treatise on Hinduism, I must clarify that I use it only as a singular example of a religion that is slightly different from the often stereotypical framework of religions, and my description thus far, has been to logically find out how it was possible for me to outwardly seem a Hindu, and yet stay detached from it - It is this dilution that enabled my "meaninglessness within a spiritual framework".
While for other religions, this meaninglessness is painted over, new layer over layer, by frequent reprisals of messiah sagas and the resultant brainwashed generations, my particular religion didn't bother to maintain an impressive and contemporary advertisement on the "Path to God" - making it easier for me to see what I haven't been doing to reach God. Besides, being in India has the advantage that the only brainwash education is even slightly capable of, is patriotism. More about that later.

I used to, and still do, in some ways, admire the often mature origins, and motives of religions other than my own. One stresses on "discipline", another on "compassion", a third on "inner peace" - states of the mind.
God knows what He wants us to do, but popular literature would seem to suggest that the above mentioned "states" of the human mind are generally spiritually desirable. The real answers? Well...like I said and like we often mutter to ourselves, God knows.
We have these approximations to work with for now. But every one of these get-rich schemes for spirituality, that we call religions, (including my own) seems to think that every human being is born with some amount of spiritual questioning.

Every religion seems to assume that all human beings are born seekers.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. I don't know what THAT truth is, but I've met a substantial subset of the human population that would exchange the glory of turbulent quest, for the peace that comes with practiced mindlessness. In other words, I’d rather stay put than leave the firm I’m ground I’m standing on.

The average human being (say, "A") isn't on a purposeful quest to find the Creator, and/or (His) reasons for (our) Creation. The incompletion and flaws in the product called "human being", however, lead A to seek completion and perfection - to seek love, satisfaction, and fame, and money, and given the right overdose of religious Inspirin ....salvation.

Our religions prescribe mental states to be attained, but they (and we) have no consensus on the definitions of these states, or of love, or of salvation. These are words we take with a pinch of blind faith, and their vague definitions are all that we need to write articles and sell festival cards and promote messiahs. The repetitive use of the word "religion" so far has prompted me to consider using the comfortable "faith" as an alternative, but the reason I don't, is because that's a corruption - of my definition of the mental state called "faith" - At least the faith of the non-blind kind.

As long as our beliefs are based on reaching such hazy destinations, the whole idea of spirituality looks like a waste of time. The long journey to Godliness doesn't seem to be, quite simply … worth it.

And this is why religion, for me, has always opposed God, or at least obstructed the path to God.

Whatever form of God you may have in mind – Task-Master, Father, Destiny-Editor, Shepherd, All-Merciful or "Guy in the Sky" (my personal favourite), we are going to take away some assumptions about Him that have crept into us - by way of Mythology/Glorification/Devotional movies, Misguided priests, Misinterpreted religious texts (the worst), and
plain convenience.

Its true - We often rework our take on God to suit something we're doing, to clarify to ourselves that we're not sinning, or that whatever we're doing is at least partially pardonable (Thats a contradiction in itself, right? ). And this "wisdom of convenience" has been the major factor responsible for the dilution and delusion of religions with time.

Personal experiences aside, let's see what consensus we have on what "God should be like".

1. Omnipotent. All-powerful. In other words, richer than Bill G, more influential than George W, more superpowers than "Superman" Kent, "Spider-man" Parker and the whole Marvel and DC ensemble of "men in spandex" combined - Higher than our Highest Known Superlative in power. *But no, with the Great Power , comes not Great Responsibility. Read faster to see why I feel that way… follow the ‘*’ ;) (Only about God though)

2. Omnipresent. Available at the nearest anything-around-you. God does not have to travel, even when He does, it’s faster than a speeding mind.

..and so on. Omni being the keyword. By definition, God has no superior in anything, He is unsurpassable. And we have a word for such a big number – infinity.


Due to the large number of qualities attributed to God, often overlapping, mostly confused, if instead of enumerating what He should be, we think of what He IS not, we would probably define Him better.

GOD is not human
Hence,
Ø He doesn’t work FOR anyone. God isn’t responsible for us, and it is a bit childish to ‘expect’ things from Him. I am unaware of the global opinion on the clique known as "government servants", but the general attitude I've known is that the government, and its (paid) employees are the people in charge, but not the people responsible - in other words, they are the ones supposed to be doing something, but they are not to fault if it is not done.

Assuming one thing, and just one - that GOD exists, I think we should be sure that He is not a government servant. *God is not responsible for us. He was not ‘appointed’ for our conveniences, nor is His existence defined around our needs. He is not answerable to anyone, because if there was someone higher up than God, THAT someone would be God, and in that case I’m talking about “Him” – Guy in The Sky :).

A little thought will reveal that anyone who cares for us is the same.

God's Love and Grace, like anyone and anything you know, should not be taken for granted.

This is one of the greatest flaws of religious interpretations on Him – Most religions teach that God is looking after us, watching over us from the heavens, that He personally chooses and guides our individual destinies.

I'm sure that's a comforting thought, but I find it hard to imagine a God who busies His days calculating the optimum life-meters for 6billion-plus humans and trillions of plants, animals and insects. I’m not saying it’s impossible, I’m saying it’s hard for me to imagine – It is quite possible that human intellect is inadequate, to even try and fathom, the mind of God. But even if He could, the question turns to ‘Why would He?’ – The answer to that question will someday define “Love” for us.

Ø He cannot be bribed. Atonement is an integral part of the ‘retention program’ of most religions. If you sin, and God doesn’t approve or doesn’t have mercy, a true religion should throw you out. If God has mercy, and He is all forgiveness, for something you regret having done and repent each day, a true religion should embrace you without reservations.

But that’s not how it usually works. There is a ritual or an expense. Donate to the religious treasure chest and you’re a free bird. Get 5 new recruits and you’re pardoned.

God doesn’t care for how many believers approach Him, recommended by which religion – all He cares for is belief and faith, if at all - I'm sure He's free of such petty human expectations as gratitude. He has no use for money - a human invention for human needs and inadequacies, or the number of people affiliated to His name - a human method for measuring power. He has nothing to prove, and no one to show up or win against. Because all that exists is Him.

Ø He has no rivals. Using the yin-yang argument to substantiate the existence of the devil always struck me as pretty lame. Agreed, the devil is a rather colourful character, thanks to Christian mythology. Literature and pop culture are forever indebted to Mr. Satan and his set of eventful (though rather horrific) anecdotes, for spicing up our language with “the devil’s workshop”, “the devil in the details”, “the devil and the deep sea”, et al. But if God is GOD, there is no way a devil can exist, since rivalry is a not-so-aesthetic human emotion. The need for recognition, ego are all unknown to God, for He is infinite, not just BIG. This is why, as I mentioned before, He doesn’t care for a huge flocking of followers or a good donation to the religious institution(s) that advertises His name, albeit distorted.

Ø He is more than human. Saying God is not human, doesn’t (obviously) mean that He is any less than human – which, by definition of God, would be wrong – because if humanity were supposed to be better than Him in any way, humanity would be called God, and vice-versa. I mean, God is like a superset of the good in humankind – He has all our good, and none of our faults.

Which is why we look up to Him, and

Not because He would be angry with us otherwise.

Not because He sacrificed a son for us, because in us, he has seen his sons reborn many billion-fold.

Not because He gave us rules and we find ourselves failing to obey them.

He didn’t make a set of toy-soldiers to play with, nor does He have an advantage in collecting souls in playing treasure hunt versus a hypothetical "devil”.

These are games we play, and we should realise that we respect God for His being above human, not for Him reflecting our deep, dark desires and childish power-games on a superlative, enhanced level.

We are shackled by our minds and mindsets, our abilities and thoughts hampered by a thought-process that has a hard time breaking free of assumptions.

Believe me,I'm goin thru' Hell here.
We are limited by nothing but ourselves.

And though that is often more than enough,

Thus,
&
That is why,
God,

Unlimited.

7. WRITER 2 : Baring

MOOD -----> Halfway To Sleep

POST TYPE : THOUGHT

LISTENING TO - Clint Mansell/Kronos Quartet - Winter Overture

There's something to this whole writer name that gives me goosebumps. Even without the extremely..."involved" thoughts I had about being a writer, in my previous post, I feel a change in mood, mode and general mental (equilibrium?) state when I call myself a writer.
Its that heady brew of sorcerer, conjuror, 'writer of destinies'.
Possibly.

I'm really not doing the evil-genius-mad-scientist-proud-of-his-creation laugh when I hold a pen, or face a keyboard, but there's a surge of something that combines adrenaline, testosterone and a good old chill in my spine when I know I've got something to write. Even if the written words don't give the same emotion to my readers...like I said, its a personal thing. I do it firstly, and foremost-ly, for myself.

Its the magic of written communication, that after the experience of writing is finished and relished...a second experience of reading awaits those who choose to experience it.

Unlike spoken words, where the word is finished just as it starts..like a stillborn child.

The spoken word must rely on our unreliable, incomplete memories to have any hope of living further, of fulfilling some different destiny, other than the one it explicitly performed in its moment of birth.

And as I've said before, my words live, I love them. To consign them to such an uncertain fate, is unthinkable.Many a writer has compared writing to becoming a parent, and in overcoming the human failings that often un-writer us... they have sometimes, gone so far as to describe it as the actual process of childbirth. I am yet to have such a painful time with my writing, though whether that's a good sign or a bad one, only time, reader responses and heartless critics can tell.

I came across one of my favorite prose extracts written by one of my idols in this context - Kamala Suraiya nee Das.
This extract is originally in Malayalam, and though she herself does good English prose, and I'm a lame excuse for a translator, here goes - "As I writer, I bare all for the one who reads. I will undress myself to the state that you call naked, then strip off the flesh, revealing bone and marrow. with that final clothing removed.. I bare my soul to the one who reads."

(To someone who can offer a better translation for this identifiable extract from her writing, I will be grateful. )

It amazes one to think she existed in the 70s, a time when the movies dared not depict

any human intimacy beyond the unforgettably repetitive scene of two harmless-looking flowers making out (like they were Venus flytraps on steroids),

any human sorrow beyond copious tears and screaming mothers,

any reason for goodness or justice save revenge,

and a hundred other stereotypical depictions, most of which, have transformed and survived to this day.

This extract is symbolic of the thing she's skilled at, and the kind of thing she did a lot of - tearing assumptions apart, and attacking these cheesy stereotypes with a vengeance. Her reason for this decidedly good and just act seemed vengeful, but was far from revenge itself. She simply never allowed life to take anything she valued, from her.

Revenge becomes meaningless when you know you can't lose a damn thing.

A few years ago, this champion of personal expression went ahead and converted to Islam, adopting the new name Suraiya.

A vast majority of her fans cried foul at her decision to "seek refuge" , as she herself put it. They felt betrayed by the fact that she who had advocated independence and expression, had gone into a shell herself. I say "they", because till that moment, she had simply been one of the authors in the then-eminently uninteresting array of Malayalam books that my mother chose to read.

And from that moment onward, I saw something in her, that her fans had probably conveniently ignored. She had, all of a sudden, become my apostle of free will. She never tried to tell anyone she was right. or wrong. She simply was. That was the essential quality. She was whatever she chose to be, and she simply refused to let life, or other people, tell her what to do. Without writing a word, she had torn apart one of the biggest assumptions of all.
Like laughing at someone who says, exasperated... "But.. but you're THIS person...How can you be THAT as well?", and replying "How on earth do you presume to know who I am?"
I suspect she understood what misunderstood messiahs often feel like. She also probably understood the picture of a writer as I see it - wielder of power that he himself doesn't realize. And I understood, that this figured in my plan. This -writer- thing. Yeah.

But if you've read that extract, and read what I write, its plainly evident that I'm either lost, nowhere near my idol's path, or purposefully avoiding it.I'm baring nothing more than my insanities, my incapability to write without a word like "incapability", and a whole lot of adverbs, cropping up every now and then, and my self-contradictory self...atleast nothing close to my soul..
whatever that thing is.

I'm not an introspective person by default, though I believe I've done a lot more of it than the average 22 year old - to look within is as difficult as it is boring. If I'm willing to get through the difficult part, it will be very interesting, I've been told.

Again. Plainly evident. Either I don't know much about myself to share, or I'm not trying hard enough to share what little I do know. I can count on the instinctive voyeur in every one of us to be interested in my life, just as it was, in her life. So its not because I think no one wants to hear about my life. Everyone loves the Truman Show. ;)

Look at the name I had given my weblog in the first place. "Here Komes The Sun" is the cheesiest pun I could've pulled off of my own initials, and a cliche to boot...the kind of things I despise. I guess it was atleast individualistic in its being dumb. I'm still cooking up a few words, stuffing a few rabbits down my hat. Maybe someday I'll be David Blaine...or Jesus Christ..in the writing context, please.
But I'm not a strip-my-skeleton-off writer.Not yet. And that's only ONE of the many paths I might take to being a -writer-. Maybe that's why I blog- to get some company and input for the trip, and possibly clues to how my road map should look.

Lethargy and a sudden loss for words...
The same feeling that made me make the mundane pun "Here Komes The Sun", prompts me to end this post here. Its 5 AM, and I feel some semblance of sleep hitting me . Don't get me wrong, I'm unemployed, and I can very well sleep my arse off the whole day. I'm not insomniac...just nocturnal. And slightly nuts. Goodnight all.

6.WRITER 1 : I want to be Writer

MOOD --------------> At Peace
POST TYPE : THOUGHT
LISTENING TO ---> Clint Mansell - Summer Overture

What IS being a writer?
Yes, I DO think of it often. I wish to think I'm moving toward being a writer...in other words, conforming to some definition of the word 'writer'...for someone like me who is repelled by conformity...this is (hopefully) a singular aspiration.
Unlike most of my brethren in the blogosphere, who have no inkling or no intention of being writers, or who do, but still conceal that motive in their writing.. I believe I need no humility, nor am I pseudo-self-effacing. The writer has nothing to be proud of.

There is a little fire in me that burns through every day and night, flickering flame and light in every action I do, reminding me that my purpose is not just to get a job, a career, a livelihood, thus becoming a cog in the economic machinery of the human race, but to communicate with myself - To write down the incoherence of my brain's thought patterns, and maybe, with the hazy clouds of thought spread out before me as sharp letters and suitable punctuation, find the pattern and the coherence in them - To make sense of why I think what I think, and why some of it was never thought before.
For me it is a personal task, a thing I must do.. for myself. And so, I write. Being a writer, therefore, is the final and highest level at which I can do this task - that's my definition of 'writer' - The most efficient and meaningful way in which I can make my thoughts reassemble and fit into each other...and probably, reveal the mysteries that baffle me, sadden me, excite me.
The writer is not a gifted being. The real writer is however, a differentiated being. Someone who chooses a different way to resolve the voices inside his head.
At another entirely different level, I write for the reasons every blogger writes or has ever written for -
Self-worth,
Outlet,
Popularity,
and the sheer joy of having words fill up pages.
Actually its all the last reason for me. There's an overwhelming feeling...almost like looking at a crowd of people listening to a speech....each letter, each word has its own character, and it either shines bright...like a face full of pride, or bows down...hiding its hurt, repression, shame, or just a stifled giggle. I look at my assembly of words, citizens of the country of my writing.
Words that form families, communities and sects.
Words like friendly letters getting together for a drink, a talk, or the gift.. or curse.. of shared silence. Thus, when I communicate, when I speak, it is not just to them...but through them. As much as I may say to them , I can never be anywhere near how much they say for me. I love my words.

I've conversed with many a kind of...writer.
And some of them have said to me how they have to rack their brains, looking for the perfect word.
The perfect arrangement of sentences that tells the reader, with no approximation whatsoever...what the writer feels.
Occasionally, the little quirks of human behaviour that are exploited in literary devices.

And they made me laugh...a worried laugh. Amusing as it was, my writers talking to me out of their little books.. also told me that I didn't have that skill. The manipulation of a human mind, subtle though it may be. It worried me that though I was moving towards some sort of writer-dom, I wouldn't be accepted as one.

The talented writer, undoubtedly is the one who can manufacture a vision, a person, a thought with breathtaking life-likeness, and then tear it apart, dismember it limb from limb, giving it a birth and a life expectancy not more than that of a soap bubble - in your plain sight. But he can also reassemble the pieces, giving you beauty as you have never seen, and smiles -one of wonder and glee for you, the reader, and one of contentment for him.

The accomplished writer, justifiably, feels like a conjurer, a sorcerer, a wielder of destinies and minds.

But...I am not there.

Because when i finish writing something, my visions, my thoughts, all become people, and I can do nothing to change them.Maybe they could've served some purpose better, had they been made without faults. Good or evil, I love them. They are what they were meant to be, flowing from mind to pen in one clear, undiverted stream of creation.

The letters, the grammar, the punctuation for writing, have always existed.What I have done is give it form, and what I've written is something new and alive. I wanted them alive, and so they are.

When I look at what I've written, I feel, faintly, the presence of the mind of God - Not endorsing, Not correcting, but watching.

I feel HIM like the shadow cast by my pen on the paper.

The feeling that..when HE creates us, HE realises that, as much as HIS creation is a part of HIM, its beauty is also in being independent of HIM.
HE, I suspect, does not mould us..as if physically sculpting us...nor does HE sit and meditate, willing us into being.
HE wants us made and so we are.
HE is not a talented or accomplished writer.
HE is the writer I want to be.

I don't want to be a writer. I want to be The Writer.