Tuesday, 31 July 2007

Entropy of the Mind

Yes. I have procrastinated enough. Today, I made myself another CD cover. *Jumps up and down happily*

This is another album added to my arsenal. *grins*

Here's a picture of the front cover :



Sunday, 29 July 2007

Etude no. 3 in E

Song: Etude no. 3 in E
Instrument: Piano
Recorded On: 08.07.2007

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Canon

Song: Canon
Instrument: Piano
Recorded On: 08.07.2007

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Make Me A Channel

Song: Make Me A Channel
Instrument: Piano
Recorded On: 08.07.2007

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Sound Of Music (Title Song)

Song: Sound Of Music (Title Song)
Instrument: Piano
Recorded On: 08.07.2007

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Love Story Theme

Song: Love Story Theme
Instrument: Spanish Guitar
Recorded On: 29.07.2007

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Auld Lang Syne

Song: Auld Lang Syne
Instrument: Spanish Guitar
Recorded On: 29.08.2007

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Friday, 27 July 2007

Good Enough

Date: 26.07.2007
Time: 10:15 p.m.

I have gone back to that phase in which I feel inadequate — that phase when I feel like being drastic and dramatically dreadful. In fact, I am rather dramatically dreadful. I feel like a wretched creature dragged up to the surface from a cold dark dungeon, a creature afraid of facing the light and all that it illuminates. I am a pitiful weakling who is blight for everyone — a sad and sorry excuse of a ‘thing’ who must be tolerated and whose incoherent rambling must be put up with for the sake of charity alone.

A fragile and disgusting wretch like me can do nothing constructive or creative. I am an amateurish, sophomoric, immature little brat who cannot even be trusted to tie her own shoelaces. I wonder now, had I actually ‘improved’? Or was it just my mind deceiving me into thinking that I had put the worst behind me?

There are many people who would be glad to come up to me and offer me ‘good advice’ that will help me live my life better. There are others who will speak of ‘ethics’ and ‘morals’ and ‘the right thing to do’. I wonder now, do all these conversations truly hold any meaning? Would any of these words exchanged have even an ounce of life left in them were I to lie cold, distant and lifeless?

I thought I was getting better. And now, I am deeply disappointed in myself. I’d like to think that there is something that I am very good at. (Yes, I have this streak which makes me want to prove myself.) Sadly, I find nothing. I suppose that I can pretend that I have a slight flair for music, but I know deep down that it is actually nothing. I am no master and I doubt that I have what it takes to become one even if I were to put in years of my life in effort. My voice had left me long back, and my fingers lack both feeling and conviction. They simply drum along in a mechanical and utterly robotic fashion, producing sound that is only slightly better than the sound of fingernails scraping a blackboard.

What other skill was I a pretender to? Art? What I ‘create’ (if the word may be used loosely) is unoriginal, ugly and lacks any bit of what is called ‘inspiration’. It only serves to frustrate me. I can see something in my mind, yet, I cannot put it down on paper, neither as words nor as figures. And at other times, I lack the vision as well.

I am so wrapped up in myself that I fail to notice what is taking place in the world around me. I walk along the street in body alone, my mind is caught up elsewhere; I slip into reveries — and inside me there still beats an urge to escape from everything.

While I usually dislike comparisons, I can’t help but compare the ‘real’ me with my ideal of the person I would like to be. Again, I fall far short of all the standards that I set for myself. I am simply not ‘good enough’.

Therefore, I revert back to that selfish, uncaring, repulsive self who can only wallow in self disgust and is revolting to everyone around her.

End: 10:50 p.m.

Wednesday, 25 July 2007

Disturbed Silence

Date: 24.07.2007
Time: 10:35 p.m.

Listless wonderment at the moon’s glory
Hushed up by the dark shadowy clouds
A stare penetrates the thickness of the fog
And reaches yonder where mists swirl in the bog.

The woods quietened at approaching footsteps
A sigh held back by the hanging branches
The folds of leaves curled up in fear
Of the sounds that hasten, to coldly leer.

There shines a beam amidst the darkness
Intrusive, unwanted, glaring and loud
The forest shudders and closes itself
Footsteps halt at the dark old shelf.

Wan light shimmers through an old crack
Where fingers of wood have parted in vain
The river runs behind in silence
Protective, nourishing and the forest’s defence.

A hand jerks forward, rustling the leaves
The lantern falls and breaks with ease
Fragments fall into the waters like rain
While the trees cringe from the glass in pain.

Quietude resides with the woods at peace
The moon gleams brightly among the trees
Fading footsteps — strained and far away
Sounds silenced, with the arrival of day.

End: 11:00 p.m.

Monday, 23 July 2007

Is It?

Is it very nice to go ask extremely personal questions to people who like keeping to themselves? Is it very nice to poke and prod and hit a raw nerve? Is it very nice to re-open wounds that have just started healing that too after an enormous amount of effort has been put into closing them? Is it very nice to cause people to feel as though the weight they've worked so hard at shoving away has returned and is strangling them with twice the amount of force it did before? Is it very nice to bring back the numb feeling that ate away everything leaving nothing but emptiness? And is it very nice to damage the 'scarred and broken' all over again, especially when they've got other appearances to keep up that day?

Friday, 20 July 2007

Ordinary Day

Date: 20.07.2007
Time: 6:10 p.m.

If you find yourself sitting with your mouth half-open, staring blankly at a calendar and trying to remember how to figure out what the date is, you shouldn’t be too worried, I think. I find myself doing the same quite often and I don’t think that there are too many things wrong with me. Yes, I am a bit strange, I do have sudden peculiar ideas, but then, most of my days are quite sane. For instance, today, I spent the morning blinking in class, drawing strange structures (note alliteration: Yayness!) on the white board, and listening to various sounds produced by the vocal chords of other human beings. Nothing extraordinary in that — wouldn’t you agree?

Well then, if I were to delve deeper into the day, you’d find that it was quite a pedestrian one indeed. After I was through with my classes (there were only two today, by the way), I carried an extremely obese textbook to a photocopying machine so that I could get a copy of a chapter made, as instructed by one of my instructors. The fact that the said chapter included twenty eight pages on ‘Water’ alone, was quite ordinary, was it not? Only twenty eight pages on a molecule just two syllables long … that is nothing much, I’m sure.

That task completed, I resolved to go keep an appointment with the Cheshire-Cat-who-is-also-a-crazy-tree-frog. Having asked two of my bored and otherwise unoccupied classmates to tag along with me, I approached an enclosure from whence arose the noise of a happily proceeding riot. When we stood before partially-glassed doors, I was suddenly greeted by the sight of a human silhouette standing against the door, scribbling something on some paper on the other side. It reminded me of a lizard, which can be seen crawling up a glass window from the other side. I blinked.

Very soon, a human head popped out of the crack between the doors and politely asked whether we were in need of any assistance. A few questions were asked and a few words were spoken in reply, to be followed by a specific question-cum-request which contained the word “Kazarelth”. At that, the polite head turned into a complete human which answered in the affirmative. Soft shouts of “LD” and “Sharky!” and a handshake later it was ascertained that the polite head-turned-human, was, indeed, the Cheshire-Cat-who-is-also-a-crazy-tree-frog. Conversation occurred. Very normal predominantly two-sided conversation, you see. Windows Vista was cursed and criticised, a gaming laptop was spoken of eagerly and yearningly by one, an assassination offer was made (which was, sadly, declined by the person to whom it was made), a tree avenged being called a ‘tree’ by calling the caller a ‘midget’… and it went on for a short while with minor interruptions in between — just as it would in any normal conversation. And then, we bid goodbye to the Cheshire-Cat-who-is-also-a-crazy-tree-frog and proceeded away from the region of riot.

One of my associates later remarked that she felt that the C.C.w.i.a.a.c.t.f. and I were speaking “in some kind of a code”. When I explained the words spoken and that they were our names, she laughed and said in a rather relieved manner, “Oh those were the words you were speaking!”

We then decided to visit an apparel-mega-store and indulge in the, er, ‘pleasure’ of ‘trying out clothes which are never going to be bought, just for the fun of it’. All three of us picked our poisons. Being new to this, I looked around curiously as my friends pointed out the most hideous, gaudy and down-right bizarre of all the garments on display and challenged each other to try out the kind which they would not normally wear. I was (*cough, cough*) ‘challenged’ to try out a white and flowery (*shudder*), extremely hippie skirt (*tries to avoid losing consciousness at the thought of it*). When I stepped out of the trial room (all puns intended), cringing at the very sight of the long whishie-whooshie thing that I was wearing, my friends decided to be polite and say, er, ‘complimentary’ things instead of laughing at my clown-like countenance. I still can’t believe it! Me, of all people, trying out a hippie skirt! A SKIRT!
AAAA!
AAAAAAAAAAA!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
(*mentally runs around the room in panic and distress*).
Well, I had my revenge when I laughed at strange combinations of clothing being worn by the two of them. And yes, I shall be charitable, and not describe the outfits.

We parted company after a healthy round of laughter and I walked towards the Metro station, feeling annoyed at the loud honking cars which appeared hell-bent on ramming me. Now, I suppose that running into people whom you’ve met in the past every time you travel by Metro is also a rather ordinary occurrence. My blast from the past today, was someone whom I did not wish to speak to. Thankfully, there was a rather large specimen of a human being obstructing me from her field of vision. However, ironically, we happened to get off at the same station (although I walked stealthily behind her ‘spy-style’ so as to avoid being seen).

I was to wait for my ‘mumsie-dearest’ to come and pick me up at the surface-crossing. As I idly looked about, I saw a moustached traffic-policeman smoking through his nose. It was most disturbing and I found myself trying to pretend that the pavement was made of yellow bricks. (Do not ask me why).

So now, here I am, staring blankly at the computer screen before me, wondering what the lights are all about. I am a very ordinary person, you see. Nothing weird or abnormal about me at all. So, if you find yourself sitting with your mouth half-open, staring blankly at a calendar and trying to remember how to figure out what the date is, you shouldn’t be too worried, I think.

End : 7:40 p.m.

Tuesday, 10 July 2007

Walk The Line

Captain Edward A. Murphy was one astute thinker. A person who can come up with “If anything can go wrong, it will”, a great fact of life, is most definitely deep, I'd say. This morning, when I had awakened, I had felt quite confident that an extra hour of sleep would not be a problem, seeing that my classes were to start later than usual today. So, I did not rush about getting ready for the day, I did not leave home with my father and I also indulged in an hour at the computer before leaving for classes at ten.

Now considering that my first class began at forty past eleven, leaving at ten would appear to leave me with ample time on my hands. However, that was not how events unfolded. “If anything just cannot go wrong, it will anyway.” How perceptive of Murphy!

The moment I stepped out of the human-mixer ’n’ grinder that is a rickshaw, I was greeted by a humungous traffic jam on the main road. Boarding an auto was akin to jostling, or rather, ‘haggling’ for fish and vegetables in the market. With ten people scrambling to get into one tiny seat next to the driver, I was reminded of the admissions-scenario where there were at least ten students vying for one seat in the colleges of their choice. I also had to change ship twice before I could reach the metro station and move closer to my hallo we’d destination.

Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.” I was forced to take a long detour from my intended path, got nicely cooked inside the two autos and then nearly got lost while walking from the unfamiliar auto-stand to an equally unfamiliar metro station. By then, it was eleven o' clock and precious time had been lost.

The journey from one metro station to another was rather uneventful. I was lucky enough to spend all of it sitting and the stations seemed to come by quickly enough. “If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.” I had. The time! It was already half past eleven when I got off at the station nearest my destination. I had ten minutes to complete a normally fifteen minute walk and climb up the stairs to my classroom on the fourth floor. So, I did the only thing I could think of that that moment. I ran.

I suppose people must’ve stared quite a bit as I sped along the pavement like the white rabbit from “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” and recklessly pushed my way through two-somes and three-somes walking along an otherwise peaceful path, muttering imprecations all the while. And I also suppose that it is some sort of a record to cover that stretch of street in five minutes flat.

Nevertheless, I am rather surprised that I did not drop down dead when I arrived in class, red-faced, panting and out of breath. Thankfully, I had arrived with the teacher and was spared being ‘late’.

After that, I settled into the lesson (which was amazingly absorbing XD) and heaved (quite literally) a sigh of relief, assuming that the worst had passed. Sadly, just towards the close of class, bloody Airlet (yes, it is intentional … do not question) decided to call me up, probably to let me know, for the hundredth time that I can do some rubbish (read: pay Airlet money) to support the Indian cricket team. It was extremely embarrassing, not to mention infuriating!

The rest of the day was comparatively calmer. My classes were (surprisingly) very interesting and I must admit that I am pleased. The only other blot on the horizon was coming home in an auto which had ridiculous fluorescent green and orange seats and shocking pink decorations hanging from the ceiling. Definite eye-sores, they were, oh yes!

Right now, after ample application of my lungs and legs, I am aching all over. Hopefully, it will all be better by tomorrow.

Thursday, 5 July 2007

Play On

I worked out something on the guitar. I was trying to have lunch but could not concentrate on it as I had this drum-beat playing over and over inside my head. So, when I left the table (much to the annoyance of people eating with me) and sat down with the guitar (yes, random, I know! Get used to it), I found myself playing something new. It doesn't sound too bad, I'd say. Mesa feels satisfied. XD

Wednesday, 4 July 2007

Dashed

You won't ever let me get better, will you? Well then, keep at it ... forget about everything. Both of you can do whatever you please. I will not care. Don't expect me to either.

I had forgotten just how good it felt. Thank you so much for reminding me. I am not going to try to fight it again.

Closer

Date: 04.07.2007
Time: 00:10 a.m.

Hard, it has been ...
Seething rage had taken over
Boiling anger matched together
Control seemed far away ...

Hard, it has been ...
Salty tears that threatened to fall
Ghostly shadows of smiles forgot
Respite seemed far away ...

Hard, it has been ...
Drops of blood that fell yet stopped
Despair lingering in each that stayed
Release seemed far away ...

Hard, it has been ...
Days long-drawn, hurtful, tense
No bit of joy coursing through veins
Laughter seemed far away ...

I heard the music once again
Chest constricted, emotive tunes I felt
The song rose, emerging once more ...

Breathtaking, beautiful and inspiring
O sweet melody!
Soaring, rising, wafting, searing ...

Painful ecstasy
O sweet melody!
Overwhelming, humbling, piercing, bracing ...

Hard, it has been ...
But victorious I stand
Not to be defeated by scars again
Freedom seems closer now ...

End: 00:30 a..m.

Tuesday, 3 July 2007

Water Babies

Date: 03.07.2007
Time: 6:55 p.m.

Pitter-patter-pitter-patter … drip-drop-drip-drop-drip-drop … and then, there was a flood. Torrents rushed down in a frenzy from the broken sky. The earth was splattered with the tears that the heavens wept in fervent drops. The sound gradually transformed into a constant rhythmic droning … and I slipped away into my world of dreams.

It was a rather sleepy start to the day — I got up with a headache, trying to prep myself up for another day of college, with my conscience and my senses offering conflicting opinions for support. It was still pouring torrents outside, and I hadn’t the chance to step out privately and soak in the rain. Sighing, as I proceeded towards getting my things ready, my father let it be known that there was not a chance in heaven or hell that I’d be able to make it to the first class. Still feeling slightly out of things, it took a while for this fact to register. I decided to wait it out and watch and spend time strumming my guitar.

The deluge continued and reports of the entire city being literally swept away were being aired on all the local news channels while I was strumming ‘Make Me a Channel of your Peace’. Happily, I was soon notified that my college had decided against attempting blasphemy against the enraged elements. And so, I spent what was left of the morning discussing the nature and benefits of the water-cycle with my friends who were online at the same time.

In the afternoon, I decided that I was in the mood for braving the flooded streets all around and attending a ‘celebration’. Having come as close to my destination as possible on public transport, I rolled up my jeans and, quite literally, took the plunge. And then began the adventure…

A walk of fifteen minutes usually involves the partaker feeling refreshed from indulging in a healthy exercise. In this case, however, it involved me wading my way through a long stretch of road submerged in knee-deep water. On my way, I met quite an interesting array of items floating about in the murky waters. Numerous leaves that had died an untimely death found their way between the soles of my feet and the bottom of my shoes. I came across a solitary marigold floating around solemnly — the sole survivor of a proud clan of mighty warriors. An onion bulb came by and said hello and I also chanced upon a dead rat, which looked sorrier than the one I had dissected last year. The last bit of jetsam and flotsam to greet me was a battle-weary cockroach floating away dejectedly. I decided to move as though I were roller-skating to hasten my approach and to my satisfaction, I found that I could soon see the shores … and then, I finally stepped on dry land after spending ages away at sea.

On reaching my destination, I found myself acting quite contrary to my nature and actually indulging in ‘socialising’. (“What is the world coming to?”) Finally, after consuming large proportions of a drink that promises to only quench thirst and do nothing else, along with chunks of chocolate cake, I parted ways with my company and walked back to the site where my marathon began.

On reaching home with ‘cold feet’, I experimented on a ‘foot bath’, which felt scalding and freezing at the same time. My feet have now developed a pinkish brown hue which looks very strange indeed.

It has started raining again … and I am trying to fight the urge to rush outside and get drenched. Somehow I can’t help but wish that tomorrow is another such rainy day and that I get to spend most of it watching the rain trickling down the window panes.

End: 7:45 p.m.