The ordinary... and then some more

It has been a long week, a substantially long and draining week, like one of those high-intensity due-diligence engagements week. It has been a random week of vendor rants, customer cribs, analyst woes, senior management skepticism. However, it has been a strangely fulfilling week.

I like chaos. In fact, I revel in chaos. It is when I am in the best of moods. There is nothing more satisfying than putting a structure around chaos, and showing the world that life ain’t that bad after all.

It is all about showing the world, showing off rather. I revel in showing off. There is nothing more blessed than showing people that something could be pulled off, making them feel they can’t do without me.

It is an even more blessed feeling knowing that there are people I cannot do without. It means I am still human, even if I run the risk of getting irreparably hurt some day. It is a comfortable feeling, the feeling of being dependent, strange though it may sound.

I am having a cup of hot chocolate, comfortable in my too-small-for-one-and-a-half-people, but just-the-perfect-size-for-one-person apartment.

The chocolate brings back memories – of a housewarming celebrated with hot chocolate, of a master-chef’s real Lindt hot chocolate with lot of love thrown in, of Theo’s spicy hot chocolate with the gang.

It helps forget the month ahead, momentarily that is. The mind traverses gondolas and the bridge of sighs, random images of a wishful holiday.

Eternity is over-rated, or so they say. Me, I would prefer good old eternity, endless evenings of hot chocolate and good time, of love and no longing, of perpetual peace and quiet.

Oh well, I signed up for chaos long back I guess, a chaos so chaotic that peace would seem weird and draining, if only because of the emptiness and silence it would bring along with it. Perhaps then, I will not celebrate, nor will I jump about in joy. I would just heave a long sigh of relief and go visit the bridge of sighs.

Gone with the wind

The charming Southern belle, the battle with the Yankees, the slaves and their loyalty, the dashing romance – Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the wind is my all-time favorite novel and Scarlett O’Hara, my most favorite fictional character.

Many call it the book of the hopeless romantic. I think of it more as a brilliant narrative of survival. 

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Perhaps...

I just read an almost-hilarious article on Firstpost about Tamilian peculiarities in pronouncing certain English and Hindi words. At a point, the article speaks about how we are incapable of pronouncing ‘F’ because the concept does not exist in our mother tongue. Immediately, my mind raced back to a peculiarity Dad had in saying his ‘b’s, ‘p’s and ‘f’s. It is something funny, I know. But I am not able to recollect exactly what. And, I have no way of checking with him now. Perhaps, that’s what they meant when they said “Time heals everything”. It erases memories.

I am trying to work hard. But, I know my heart is not in it. In fact, I even know where my heart is. And, I even know why I am still here. And, I also know that I shouldn’t be here. Peace matters sometimes, well, in fact, most times. Peace matters in the larger scheme of things. Only peace matters actually. Perhaps, that’s what they meant when they said “Money doesn’t matter”. Not so much at least.

Whenever I drive, I am in a race. With the guy driving in the next lane, with the car that’s trying to cut into the road up ahead, with the cow that’s trying to cross the road. When I am not in a race, it only means the road is empty and I have no push to prove anything to myself or anyone else. That’s when I am sanest; and saddest too. For, there are no milestones to achieve any more. Perhaps, that’s what they meant when they said “Life is a race”. I don’t think it should be otherwise.

I was not bestowed with the purest of hearts, or the purest of minds. Yes, I believe the heart and mind are two different things. I have done my fair share of RGing in this life, broken hearts, under-cut, played foul, to different pockets of people at different points in time. In return, I have had it done too, sometimes having recognised before the foul, sometimes during and sometimes after. Perhaps, that’s what they meant when they said “Karma is a bitch". I didn’t know I was a believer in Karma.

The only thing I feel like saying right now is “So long and thanks for all the fish”. Trust me, that’s not the most random thought to have entered my head this week.