Post card from 'busy'-land
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Its amazing how really important people take out time to do things they like. Blogging, for instance.And the stereotypical answer to the riddle: you don't find time, you make time. And you always make time for something you are really passionate about. I would also add, discipline should be second nature to you, if you wish to create time.
I sometimes wonder what I am really passionate about. Ashamed as I am to admit, nothing. I do care a lot about a few things, but being passionate about them would be stretching it too far.
As for discipline, the available real estate on my blog speaks for itself.
So admittedly, 'been too busy to write' is perhaps not a worthwhile excuse, but it is the darned truth!
See you in a week!
posted by Angshuman @ 11:35 AM,
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Hips don't talk either
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
My growing up years were easy. In fact life, a quarter of a century ago, was simple for everybody. A socialistic polity ensured a frugal lifestyle, a sinking economy took the burden off your decision making faculties. So all cream was Boroline, all scooters were Bajaj, all babyfood was Farex, and all ointment was Iodex. Society in general lived by the rules, life was painted in black and white, good and evil couldn't possibly coexist. Love marriages always attracted scorn, losers always attracted sympathy, knowledge always attracted respect. There was hardly any electronics and only the geekiest of all had heard of software. And of course, there was one television channel. Translated into English, it was called 'Television'.
By the time I graduated from high school, things were beginning to feel a lot different. I now belonged to a generation that (perhaps) invented new connotations of the word 'cool; and our favourite expressions became 'start expressing yourself', 'follow your heart', 'do what your inner voice tells you' and their likes. Out-of-the-box thought and action became the in-thing. Pink Floyd ruled and 'We don't need no education' became anthem.
I think human perception of the world around gets frozen forever by the time you are 20 years old. Change, till then is acceptable; most things that mutate afterwards are not. And that is what has been my problem. So I fully understand what thinking and doing out-of-the-box and a questioning spririt is all about, but it does take me a lot of effort to comprehend how one loses sight of the box in the first place.
During my adolescent years, my father forced me the read the papers everyday. The aversion turned into addiction soon as I greedily undid the rubberband every morning, intially for the comic strips and a few years later for the editorial page. My morning joy has been long gone; my tipping point came a few years back when I was aghast to see a screaming frontpage headline: "12 pups die in stormwater drain". Since then I have felt I do not really belong to a society for which the single biggest talking point is the extra-marital affair, or 500 hours of live TV is dedicated to a boy's falling into a tubewell.
I really cannot figure out how an attention span can be less than 10 seconds, the time you need to be bored before you grope for your cellphone. Especially after your school teacher considered throwing a blackboard duster at you a legitimate process for making students listen. Or how so many academically average children from middle class families use BPO jobs for instant gratification, be it alcohol, smokes, sex or drugs. Or minuscule-talent nasal voiced prentenders become icons on the music scene. Or how students finish assignments by looking up answers on the internet, when using a calculator used to be sacrilege once upon a time. Or how a half a billion people consider mind numbingly inane rants in a so called laughter show funny.
Something I have seen common to most elderly people is their tendency to pontificate about how good things used to be in their 'during our times' and 'in those days' speeches. I sometimes wonder how I got there so quick. Perhaps life hasn't really transformed into a celebration of the trivial in a blinding aura of stupidity. Perhaps I am missing the whole point here. Perhaps there isn't any point at all.
But seriously, how can so many people actually relate to a song called 'Hips don't lie' ?
posted by Angshuman @ 8:56 PM,
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