Goodbye..

goodbye..
was it a hug, a wave, a sigh?
was it a tear splashing out of the eye?
was it nothing short of an honest lie?

goodbye..
was it a reluctantly bid adieu?
was it old worries with anxiety anew?
was it all alone with the person thats you?

goodbye..
was it a bold decision to make?
was it too rash a step to take?
was it loss of love or heartbreak?

goodbye..
was it the wilderness of the night?
was it a dim light trying to burn bright?
was it courage defeating fright?

goodbye..
was it a hushed-up groan or a stiffled moan?
was it undernourished, was it overgrown?
was it miscellaneous complications unknown?

goodbye..
was it over-the-top, a let-down or just mediocre?
was it dull black & white, or deep dark ochre?
was it absolutely daft and off the rocker?

goodbye..
was it a grudge? was it treason?
was it a careless change of season?
was it denial devoid of any reason?

goodbye..
was it easy to be able to cope?
\was it like the mighty tug of a rope?
was it the difference between eternity and hope?

goodbye..
was it out of sympathy or fear?
was it oh-so-far and yet so near?
was it utterly plain, simple and clear?

goodbye..
was it the end of continual pain?
was it the howling wind or the deafening rain?
was it acknowledgement without refrain?

goodbye..
was it too seemingly odd?
was it the close of a life terribly flawed?
was it just us, or was it God?

Not justifying it. (a thought process)

Its been bothering me for a while now. And I know its not reason enough to actually take it into account and start justifying. But it still strikes me as odd to not have a reason to iterate what maybe. And what may not. For there are many ideas and fleeting schemes that might matter at a particular point of time. But seeing it through till the very end is what causes, (for lack of a better phrase to explain it) - rebellion.

And my system is accustomed to it. In irritating, thoughtful ways.

Why can it not be simple and straightforward? There just have to be all these devious means and methods of bringing about change. Majorly, none of it holds as much significance over time and the complications seem ineffective and morose. And the aftermath causes change of course and the initial stuff is conviniently forgotten, left behind for the new. There are remembrances ofcourse, and reminisciences. 'If' becomes a way of life, the only unquestionable explanation as the conclusion would remain aloof. Fantasy over reality, the shortcut out. But if it weren't as tedious and attention-seeking, would there have been any interest in the first place? As atrocious as it may seem, the mind plays games of its own. There's nothing wayward about it. Only implications of what is known and confirmed, else how would you base the unknown? There would be no reason to go on. Which asks of the reason yet again. Why did it start? How will it end? Make-up your own ideologies, justify the null and keep going. It can get as complicated as you want it to. Even though simplicity is what lies beneath. You decide the end with whatever you've made of it.

And that's what makes you.

At The Close

from the past and present of her life
as was due, she has come to realise
all is not what it then may seem
all comes to an end, when it once does begin

it may appear illogically rash and wild
may cause distress and sorrow, none too mild
initially even futile, carelessly so
knowing truth that she'd always refrained to know

but the truth remains disguised in the pain
while all this time she'd been shifting the blame
but the truth remains in all that she looked down upon
never putting it right, being heartlessly stubborn

despite the future that it draws, as the past did
the present finally comes to a subtle close
when the truth will out, the pain will be killed
and there will be nothing to realise anymore

when long atlast she'll see it clear
but then the time will be far too near
and nothing will come of help to ease the strain
but she will know she has waited in vain
that it never mattered much to put in her whole
and nothing will matter much anymore.

People. Anonymous.

Staying away from home and the protected environment I've always been used to being in, somehow, results in making me very vigilant and aware of the world that lives and breathes and continuously changes around me. For the most part, its about observing and understanding people that I associate with. With what I see to be a veritable conclusion, there are many types of people all around and each type has something special, significant, intimidating or interesting about it, counting down to the last characteristic.

Following no order of sequence, I'm (for whatever reasons) inclined to start with the general class of 'normal' people. They're everywhere, happy, existing with no issues that others know of. They fill in the empty voids, and are worth taking into consideration (I'm sure) where the protagonists fail to amuse. Then come everybody you know of. There are the people you're aware will be there for you no matter what. The people who will do what it takes to keep you happy, and there are the people who could have caused worry, fear or pain, sometime in life ( I remember school :| ). There are those you look up to, and some who let you down, and some who changed and have kept changing, but still stick around. There are the amazingly-gifted people you appreciate, no complaints at all - but life would have had happier moments if they hadn't tried so much and set a few standards straight. Then there are the best friends, the good friends, the just-friends, the to-be-friends, only acquaintances, friends who're now acquaintances, and known people who're now nobody(s) - for the better or for worse. More? The distantly friendly work people, the close-knit gossip-groups, the lunch-and-dinner company and the anytime-hangout buddies. There are the people you know too well, and the ones you don't know at all. And there are those you wish you knew more about. People you want to spend time with, and those you wish you saw less of. People with selfish incentives, mediocre selfless needs , 24x7 attention requirements, assurance guarantees, and free time. Then there are people who you have to try and get along with, and those with whom you randomly end up having fun, no matter what. The intellectual discussion-types, the goofy dim-witted time-consuming chat-types, the ones with whom conversation is always a pleasant deal. Then there are the people you wish to be like. The people you love for inexplicable reasons, and the reciprocative-association types. There are those you've known all your life, and the people you wish you never had known, and the ones you know you'll always know. Family ofcourse, which constitues majority of the categories mentioned and more. They're like the few people who could probably tag you into one of the categories and justify you inside out.

But there are just SO many people to name and know, no detailed classification table could ever be enough. And I, unclassifiedly, belong to one or more of the many indefinite genres. Melodrama, let there be peace. :)

'A' for Ar-chi-tec-ture

When I thought I knew what architecture meant, I had no idea that I'd be crossing the limits of having career-related misconceptions. As far as setting up miscellaneous household objects and doing up interiors (to VERY generally, make the whole setting look pretty) was concerned, I was interested enough, and/but nowhere near becoming an architect. The reality TV shows that instigated me in the first place, didn't stand a chance infront of the hoax I had created for myself. But then, did I really want to be an architect? Maybe an interior designer? Maybe, just a designer. Doesn't matter what I made. The process of creation was what mattered most. Or not.

When I got into (and couldn't get out of) what I thought architecture meant and didn't turn out to be, I guess I finally understood the fact that it wasn't all about just becoming an architect. Period. All the drafting and the conceptual development, that constituted a major part of the evaluation of assignments, didn't really matter in the big picture (well MY picture; This is certainly NOT in accordance to any of my teachers' points of view.) It was about the 'design'- the creation, the carrying out, the analysis..and most importantly (I suspect this is only me, thinking too much) the APPRECIATION. Tall buildings, steel and chrome interiors, skyscrapers, piers, arches, numerous elements of design, minimalism, green architecture, glass forms, ancient history and all it had to offer to make architecture better, stabler..I appreciate. I might not like writing all the exams, and proving the worth of my designs in front of a jury and submitting all my assigments within deadlines, and losing my head halfway through it all - but I like architecture. Genuinely at that.

For one, now I know for a fact that its not just about building and construction. Designing can be good fun :) My childhood dreams of becoming a glass artist (7th grade?), and moulding glass to form something, anything - tend to get re-lived. Experimentation with shapes and shapeless forms of all sizes establishes the meaning of work. Arts and crafts, that I always enjoyed no matter how tedious or annoying it gets after a point, still makes sense. Using a t-scale and set-squares to derive plans, elevations and sections - does have its own inexplicable charm. And art! And photography! Each frame has a story to tell, to know of. And ofcourse, you end up getting the trademarked tag of being a student of architecture - respect for your undoubted creative abilities (you took up archi. after all!), concern about the endless sleepless nights and days you spend 'working', sympathy and awe for choosing to be one of the 'different' citizens of the educational society.

Like my work-burdened, limit-less entertainment-deprived fellow-'archi's justify that their best interests lie in the 'creativity'. Its all about letting your emotions run wild in order to give expression to your ideas. Execution and evolution of what is within implies as the most lucrative feature of architecture. Or not. Its essentially an architectural-theory of covering up for whatever goes wrong. :D No offence or anything, for there are some things that need not be defined or understood (or written about). But even though its a tough road ahead with a LOT to look forward to, there are innumerable paths of divergence leading into what I'll someday tend to fancy and take up. Till then, its 'appreciation' all the way, if not architecture-make-believe-creation.

a Long time Ago

it seems a long time ago
when i sat and thought
about all the things i wanted to know
about the instances that made me, in someway, grow
about people who had unfathomable faith, and never let go

it seems a long time ago
when i lived the veritable way i wanted to
when the days were wishful and nights not as blue
when everything unassumingly seemed just and true
when it wasn't much about we and i and you

it seems a long time ago
that i wasnt so alone in any fleeting way
that i could speak out all that i wished to say
that my mind flitted around and lay wherever it wanted to stay
that no frame of the past and the future
remained contained in today

it seems a long time ago
where love was considered to be of the simple and wise
where you could understand and choose,
before you came to realise
where systems were made to direct, process and analyze
where questions in the differences didn't even arise

it all seems a long time ago
what was a subtle cause to a prolific reaction
but change counted as a reason to transition
and the times came across to be discontentedly momentary
soon to be a mystical bygone, never to return.

The 'GOOD' 'LUCK' Factor

(where,  good and luck aren't conjoined to mean 'goodluck')

To me, life is like the spoof magic-boxes that came free with kids' meals at mcD's that i eagerly kept a lookout for whenever we decided to eat out. Chuck the burgers and the fries, you just never knew what would come out of that box! And sometimes, they would go on to have a series of cool gizmos that you could collect, and soon if you were persistent enough, you'd be the proud owner of that collection. And then, there would always be something else to wait for. And I've kept waiting. And likewise, just like the magic box, my life has been a series of big and small happenings - never being predictable, never knowing what would come next. The best part? Its always been worth the wait. :)

These 19 years of my life have been GOOD. By good, I intend to mean that for majority of the time, I've been happy and satisfied. I like to believe that I was born under amazingly lucky stars - stars that brought me amazing LUCK anyway. 1st instance of sheer luck : being born to MY parents. My parents are not what you would call the ideal set of people to have you brought up by. They were just the perfect people to bring ME up. As it turned out, the process and procedures involved went good as well (good : read above reference) and I turned out to be me. Well, that was the original intention after all - to let me be me, and keep being me. I remember my childhood being what every-kid-born-in-the-90s' childhood was like. Being the only kid in the family then, I was always extra taken-care-of and concerned-about.

Then we shifted base to the UAE. Dad got a job and mum had to quit hers and take care of him there ('him' refers to dad and me, and basically us. I was used to being taken into inclusion, just like my then-passport. My mum had a passport, and I was included in it :D ). UAE was good as well, very influential to ideas and beliefs of my 6-yr old mind. Except for the initial days, when I used to miss my grandparents terribly and the endless nights I cried myself to sleep wishing God would be compassionate enough to gift me a puppy dog as a pet, I was good. Life was unassuming, international and simple.

Back to Bhubaneswar - made it real. Now was good, not as good but couldn't really have been better. Oriya became a language that I had to learn and despise. The more I learnt, the more I despised. It seems analyse-able now that I was changing everyday; Everything changed everyday. From home=easy, school=hard it became school=easy, home=hard. Friendship (unified plural) and relationships (diverse plural) took on metaphorical meanings. Life rocked, sucked and went on to develop into new things - all the time!

What I basically mean is that I cherish all those uncountable instances when the early, pre-adolescent and adolescent years have been good and lucky, for better or worse. Even if I don't remember each and every chapter, I'm sure they all had moments that caused change that can last a lifetime. In fact, in some random way it has helped form the sensible, nerdy, emotionally-conscious adult in me. And also the crazy, uncaring, impulsive freak in me - that I value and appreciate a tad bit more. Obviously. :D

why?

Why would anybody decide to start BLOGGING?

Perhaps they want to set apart and record the oh-so-many occurrences of their day-to-day life so that they can go back and live in that very moment one more time. Or perhaps, even though it sounds morbid enough, they might want to hone and develop their so called 'writing' skills and discover some new aspect of 'creativity' in the self. For me, if not being absolutely random about it, it would have to be the former for i had no intentions whatsoever to record any memoranda for whatever reasons. I wouldn't have written the story of my life, stating charts and facts and figures - to save my life. And yet, here i am, doing precisely the exact thing that otherwise seemed despicable to me.

What is the point?

No idea.

On second thoughts, why does there need to be a point?

Decisions can be ugly and incorrect and unjustified and random.

On third thoughts (which is what i take to be the actual reason), a good friend bugged me into it. Other good friends reckoned it was a 'wizard' idea. And since i couldnt deny that the thought had crossed my mind earlier and more than once, i decided to bring it up and face it head on, and basically, just START writing.

Here goes, for whatever reasons.