Fear

It is perhaps the most unique, most discussed, most debated, and ironically the most feared feeling a person can experience. It comes unannounced, without warning or any signs. Moreover, you never know when it will leave. Sometimes it establishes itself in the mind of the bearer like a cancerous tumor, growing with every passing second until it completely controls the senses. Sometimes it lingers in one corner of the mind waiting for the right opportunity to explode. I could write a few hundred pages describing the various personifications of fear. But I will spare you the torture. 

I have always visualized fear a a different entity altogether. An independent being, which takes over my mind and eventually controls my actions or is responsible for my inaction. The idea of fear in my mind is similar to the idea of God. Undefined, yet so potent. The most intriguing and perhaps the most terrifying aspect of fear is to cloud your thinking. I never surrender to it on the first instance. Even if I am panicking. I try to reach its roots but fear has the power to cloud itself at every stage, at every new level you unravel. As I progress down the levels, my thinking blurs to the point that I cannot think anything beyond the fear which inflicts me. I know the last few lines were confusing, but here is how I can put it in a better way.

A fear develops in my mind. I panic. But I still take the steps to try and root it out. I manage to dispel the first negative thoughts which come to my mind and try figuring out: what next? But then another negative thought is born in the mind, and it seems that I am repeating the cycle again. An infinite loop. This keeps happening till the fear evolves into a terrible vision.

A terrible vision is not always a terrible thing though. Sometimes this vision has forced me to take steps I should have taken a long time back. Yet to see the terrible vision in a different light is an altogether different story. 9 out of 10 times I fail. Yet, somehow, because of the 1 time I succeeded, I feel that I may reduce the equation to 8 out of 10. That feeling, is my definition of hope. And it does come. I just have to try.

At this moment, i am marred by another fear. I am not going to discuss it here because its kind of personal. Yet, I feel that tonight is the night when I need to figure out a way. If not a way then at least I have to search for some hope.

Financial Woes

I am a firm believer that money, and not love is what makes the world go round. People who disagree with me, are either very rich or dead. And I am pretty sure that all of those who believe that love makes the world go round, previously believed that money makes the world go round. Once they had the money, the switched to love.

In the beginning of this month I was a content man, if not rich. I managed my finances better than the previous months, paid of some major loans (which I took from my friends), saved some money, paid most of the bills and my part of the rent.

Then I looked at the calender only to realize that 10 more days were left before my account would be replenished. I am stuck again. I still have two minor loans to pay and one pending major expenditure. My sound financial planning wasn't so sound after all.

Its been so many times I have been in this situation in the past one year-tottering on the edge of bankruptcy. I like that line :) but not my current situation :(

Part 1: -

Where do I begin? From the evening when I got the summons from the academy or from the day when I decided to appear for the officers examination? Or from the day when I was admitted to the hospital with a bullet hole in my shoulder and and one in my chest and some broken ribs? When I look back, its all hazy now. But its there. Very much there.


As I lie here drugged, my mind hovers over my past. It was three years back, or was it four? I am not sure. A few years back (three or four), I was posted on the most sensitive border my country shared with its neighbor. Constant tensions kept the forces on both sides of the fence on their toes. There was the regular mortar rounds every weekend when the soldiers come out for games, the occasional sniper fire usually targeting someone who had the guts to smoke on the border. And then there was the monthly artillery fire. We took care of the snipers after we lost a few men to smoking. There was no cancer in their lungs but a bullet hole in the head told the story. 
Our snipers, probably the best in this part of the world took out many of the enemy snipers. It was pretty late when they got light and sound suppressors for their sniper rifles. They had already lost fifteen men to our bullets.
Their artillery had already taken a severe hit three months back when we decided to fire back with our own artillery unit. Those new German guns proved their worth. We haven't had a firing since then. 
Buts its the mortars they use the most. And still use, to some success. Minor structural damages can be sustained. But when one of us looses a limb in the random firing, that's what pisses us off the most. 

That day was different from the usual day. No mortars, no artillery fire, no snipers. The enemy outpost seemed empty. We decided to get our footballs out in the afternoon. Just to entice them to open fire but nothing happened. Some of us were monitoring the radio chatter. It seemed quiet obvious that forces were moving out of the enemy outpost. It wasn't unscheduled. Recently the enemy had decided to move out forces from the area. Their leadership had buckled under the huge international pressure. We had expected an exit. It was a little early but then there was no reason to worry. Everything seemed so much in order. So perfect. But that is exactly what was wrong with the situation. 

I had ordered my men to be on the alert. But their 'YESSSIR' was relaxed. They were hoping for a period of peace when they could get their footballs out and play in the crater ridden ground, when they could photograph the beautiful valleys around our outpost....

By 3.00 AM, nothing happened. it was silent as usual. Not a leaf moved. 

Two days later. 3.00 AM. many soldiers were drunk. Scouts had reported that the enemy had abandoned their post and had moved to a different location. Celebrations were rife in the tents which had been put out for the first time in three years. The bunkers had been our home so far. Caution was thrown to the wind. I was halfway through my third glass of whiskey when I heard what sounded like an artillery round. Was it just me? Did someone else hear it too? Every one was too busy in their drinks. Too busy dancing. Too busy flirting with the local girls who had been allowed into the camp for that night.

Three seconds later the tent next to ours burst in a blinding blame. The sound was loud enough to knock out my senses for a few seconds. I was deaf for the next ten minutes though. I got up on my feet only to be knocked down by a second explosion three seconds later. 

I didn't like what I saw when my eyes got used to the blinding light. Bodies of my comrades strewn around the place. Most of them charred beyond recognition. There was a girl who was running away from the explosions. She had a beautiful face and all I wanted to do was remove the fear from those beautiful eyes. Strange how such thoughts can come to the mind at such times. For a moment I thought I was the only one left in the camp. A pair of hands grabbed me and dragged me to the closest bunker.

 

Do I need to visit a shrink?

It was just this Monday when I was wondering that I haven't been using my brains enough. Its true that the normal human being uses about 10 percent of his brain, Einstein (not-normal by all standards) used 13 percent of his brain. I am probably using 0.097 percent of it considering the periods of time I do nothing. Here is an example. I sat for two hours in front of the television doing nothing except changing channels. Nothing on TV could hold my attention for more than 5 seconds. I have to confess though that my brain showed signs of activity on seeing the advertisement for 'The making of the Kingfisher Calender 2010'. But for the rest of the time, I was as good as a vegetable. It wasn't until I could hear my remote yelling 'Stop poking me you *&^%$#@&!' that I came out of my stupor. I called up a friend and discussed the lack of use for my brain but she had better things lined up for her brain so I had to hang up. 

I once wrote a post about how an empty mind becomes a devils workshop. It was today that I realized it. When you have nothing productive to do then your brain starts cooking up things. For example, if your friend is not in a great mood and you happen to call him/her up then your brain is going to assume that it is because of you that his/her mood is so rotten. And then begins the chain reaction of negative thoughts. It starts off with analyzing the things you said to this friend and finding fault in them. If you can't find out any particular fault in your words then you move on to words said in the recent past, not so recent past, past, past past and then ancient history. By this time, you have ruined your mood as well. Then comes anger. And then you can be sure that you are on the verge of losing a friend...and your phone if you happen to slam it on the wall in front of you. 

This was just an example. yes, it happened to me, not so long ago. There are more examples but will share them later on. What I wonder sometimes is this; is having an empty mind better than having a mind with shitty thoughts? Or does having a mind with shitty thoughts follow the stage when the mind is empty? And if that is the case then how to find something to occupy the mind with and even if we do find something to keep it occupied, what are the chances that it will not be filled up with shitty thoughts about the thoughts which have finally occupied my mind? Getting my drift?!...

I am sure the last paragraph proves how my thought process works sometimes and revels the level of vulnerability of my brain to the hands of the Devil. Which is why I wonder sometimes whether I need to see a Shrink or not.

200

200

The most important number in India on 24th February, 2010 in India.

->Its the number of runs Sachin Tendulkar scored against South Africa yesterday in a ODI.
->It was probably the sound decibal level at the Gwalior Stadium where Sachin scored the runs.
->It was....awesome

I know no one wants to read yet another blog about why Sachin Tendulkar is the next best thing to God in my country but its the sheer awesomeness of the guy which makes me write this, and nothing else. Just nothing else.

When I was watching the highlights last night I was almost in tears when I saw Sachin sending almost every other ball to the boundry. Yes, the fact that I had two beers down my throat helped but a cricket match never brought me on the verge of tears ever...even when intoxicated (except the one time when Kumble had the Pakistani team for dinner/10 wickets in an innings...i had a lump in my throat)...but last night was different...

The South African dressing room must have been silent last night. Except for the din coming from outside...not because they underperformed or could have done better. But for the fact that they could do nothing, absolutely nothing against one man who stands just five feet, five inches tall and never even hurls an abuse on the field. One man decimated the best bowling attack in the world. Just one guy.

200 runs in one innings of an ODI. TWO HUNDRED RUNS....GODDAMMIT CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT.....

I don't worship Sachin Tendulkar like many in this nation. I believe he is human and is capable of folly. I believe he also gets angry and sad and frustuated sometimes. I believe he can mess things up just like most of us do sometimes. But all that changed last night.

For bringing a smile to my face countless number of times (and for the tears last night) and for being an inspiration to me and constantly reminding me of the fact that actions are louder, more potent than words, Mr. Sachin Tendulkar, take a bow. God bless you sir.

And in the words of Po (Kung Fu Panda): Legend tells of a legendary cricketer whose cricket skills were the stuff of legend....

I am not winking at you! My eye is fluttering!

Its hasn't been a very happy day for me. I was woken up by scores of mosquitoes feeding on my blood, very early in the morning. By the time I managed to get a handful of them (squished in my palms...an act done without the aid of any light), and was almost dlipping into deep sleep, my alarm clock woke me up. It was time to get ready for office. And then my left eye started fluttering. Which is a bad omen in these parts of the world.

By the time I reached office, I concluded that my left eyelid has a multiple personality disorder. Sometimes it thinks its a bird. Madly fluttering, it had already invited some scornful stares from a couple of girls in the bus who took no time to jump to the conclusion that I was winking at them.

The bus chugged into the office gates and I made my quick exit to save myself from being slapped. Then came the a rather dull day at work. Which, is nothing usual but for the past few days I made sure that my day was'nt dull. But today was different. My fingers, as well as my mind seemed filled with lead. The only thing that kept my grey cells active was the Test Match between India and South Africa. India came back strongly today but it was Amla who kept threatning to steal away the win from India. He just stood there playing everything which was thrown at him as if he had vowed to not get out...and he kept his vow. The rest of his team mates fell. Harbhajan gave India the win, much deserved and hard fought.

And India's win is just about the only good thing that has happened to me today. Rest of it has been cursed by my fluttering MPD-inflicted eye.

Its seven in the evening and the freaking thing is still fluttering.

Beginning of the end or end of the beginning?

I some times wonder when it all began.

By now you must already be thinking that this is going to be another depressing blog about someone trying to understand the purpose of his existence/why he doesn't have his dream job yet/why he is the way he is/why does he suck so much/......another depressing blog....then you are right.....

And wrong at the same time. Because in the process of writing the past few sentences I have just realised that a tale of some one's undoing is not something to be written on a blog. Its probably something to be written in a personal diary/letter to girlfriend(if she is immensely patient) or told to a shrink.

So I am going to spare you the torture...and torture myself...sometime later.

Disillusionment

I enter the gates of my test center-NMIMS, Mumbai*-and I see six breathtaking beauties running towards me. And before you think that I may have invited Ranbeer Kapoor or Salman Khan as a guest writer (and to think of such a thing, you need to be retarded beyond scope of recovery), let me complete the last sentence; they run past me.

They were girls right out of a college-themed soap opera. Beautiful and brimming with energy, wearing outfits which only our screen-goddesses are seen wearing in movies (now please don't start thinking about bikinis; all I mean to say is that they were outfitted pretty modernly). The familiar feeling of being invisible comes back to me. To them I was just an object standing in the middle of the path. An object to avoid colliding with. To me, they were a dream, a dream which now seems more and more difficult to achieve.

The dream to get into a good b-school in India.

I know that every year around 250000 set out to achieve this dream and 249000 of them fail. I belong to this category. And for three years, i have held on to my title (of a wannabe B-School graduate). I am the undisputed champion of messing up entrance examinations and screwing up interviews. But I am losing steam now.

No longer do I wish to spend (or rather waste) one more year preparing for CAT/SNAP/NMAT/XAT. For my constant failures have only made me re-think my methods; not of studies but how I have seen my life so far.

As I write these words, I stand disillusioned. I realise that the oasis I was seeking, was just another mirage. I realise that I stepped out to cross the ocean on a boat with no compass, no map, no food and the worst folly of them all, no rum. Aaarghhhh!!! NO RUM!!!

*NMIMS-Mumbai: One of the top B-Schools of India. Present dead in the center of the city in between the financial hub of Mumbai famous for pretty girls running around the college playing some crazy management game. I wish I was studying here.

The 25th year crisis

'So, whats new in your life?' asked my friend with a fake enthusiasm usualy displayed by doctors inquiring about terminally ill, living-on-a-prayer, brain tumor patients. I gave him a look usually given to doctors faking enthusiasm, by terminally ill brain tumor patients. Something like this:-

I had an answer though. I said, 'A new blog'. And you are reading it.

As the title suggests, I am currently going through a quater life crisis (25th year, hoping I live for 100 years!!HAHA) and here all of you can have a glimpse of what is going on in my mind. This not a forum to discuss solutions to my problems or provide me with the much needed emotional support (but the even more needed financial support is always welcome) but just a place where I can vent out my feelings.

I already have a blog 'Observations' which contains similar content. A dear friend of mine would have put the same thing as,' Same shit, different blog'. (All those who have seen Shawshank Redemption will know what I mean). But as change(which is supposed to be the only constant thing in life) is the only thing inconsistant in my life, i decided to take things in my own hands. Ans so a new blog is born.

I am quiet sure that by the time this blog is an year old, the title would look something like, 'The 26th year Crisis'. I dont mind it but I just hope the nature of the crisis will be different then. And with that heartning and uplifting thought (sarcasim truly adds spice to life), let us begin this journey.