dream on

I'm not much a dreamer and on most nights i usually have a restful, dreamless sleep. But there is this one dream of late that is stuck in my head and whose meaning i would like to unravel. In it, i am standing on the high end of a plunging seashore with the turbulent and frothy sea raging in the deep end. I stand calm but in fear as the waves mercilessly thrash the seashore. I am afraid that the waves might pull or drag me in and drown me in the process. This scene is set on a full moon night and i am not alone. The seashore is bustling with people watching the sea as it ebbs and flows. In this same dream sequence set during the day, i see myself walking along the seashore observing people frolic on the beach. Although i love being near the sea, i don't venture into the water. There is a acute sense of fear holding me back. This is pretty much all i can recall from this dream.

In a similar dream, i am standing on the balcony of a high-rise multi-storied building and watching an incoming tsunami as it hits the shore. I can see the massive waves rising in the background and slowly gathering speed. The sea-shore is dotted with people and shops and all manner of beach activity. But this scene remains oblivious to the approaching tsunami, something i can see from the comfort of my high perch. I watch the tsunami with trepidation and anxiety as it gathers closer to the shore. I observe the scenes of panic-induced helter-skelter and of destruction wrought as the massive fountain of water spills onto the land. But thankfully, the building on which i stand is untouched. Water flows through its lower-floor interiors and on to the streets below but no physical damage is done to its structure. I don't remember more than this but vividly register the gigantic size of the tsunami and the fear induced by its sight.

In both my dreams, fear and anxiety dominate, to a point of nausea. Yet i stand helpless and silently witness the violent waters either crash against the shore or rise like a giant tsunami. What could these dreams mean and why do i choose to remember them? To begin with, i know they hold an underlying significance to understanding my life and overcoming my unconscious fears and anxieties. But beyond this i am in a blindspot. In any case, i would like to explore this dream and unlock its hidden meaning.

book of existence

It's not that i have read the entire book or that i might even complete it but Pessoa's writing is like speaking to your own soul, in your own words and in full confidence. It's a weirdly comforting reading experience. It's almost as if Pessoa has distilled our fragmented, incomplete human existence and given it meaning. There are thoughts and fears and misgivings and love and confusions strewn in these pages, each revelatory and life-affirming. This book is to be devoured by the soul and read in complete solitude. My copy is underlined and marked for every passage is heart-achingly beautiful and touching. I am not one for touchy sentimentalism but Pessoa makes 'you feel with intellect and think with emotion'. How magical can that be!

What is spring but a renewal of nature's love?

Spring is in the air. A cool breeze sways the trees into a synchronized dance.  The rays of the sun are marigold orange that it hurts the eye. The green radiance of fresh new leaves sparkles in the light. The iridescent flowers lie carelessly strewn on the roads. There is a gallop in one's stride, a shine in one's skin and a smile on one's face. The days are warm and sunny and the evenings pleasant and fine. This is the perfect weather for long walks and long-winding conversations. It is the season of vitality and mirth, not to mention love. The decay and detritus of winter's aftermath gives way to a youthful abundance. The earth conspires in shedding the old and embracing the new. In this time of quiet observation, i sit by the balcony and write silly posts, for what is spring without a little hope?

take my breath away

many years have i thought
i will tell of another one
other than me and outside of me
but closer than the soul she
lives inside where i long to be
and i look and i look
but i cant see
because love is blind
and i think
what is this love which flies
in the face of hate
that wont let me find
or let me know
once for all if 
it really is and just so
but i understand too
that if really it lies
between us in bed and
betwixt us in arms
and works only in 
invisible charms
there will after all
be little harm done
to have not ever had
set my eyes on love
because it is most urgent
when i have my eyes closed
and she has her hands
in my pants

hahaha. mama i can shed copious tears of joy for you. 
12 years on, i have you by your balls xxx

The words they tumble forth
Rabble rousing with no hope
Forsaken is the art of idle thought
Seeking meaning when it can't be got
I'm unabashedly a pathetic sod
So forgive me if i sound rather odd

If writing this is what will get me to fill this blank space, then so be it. I've been itching to write something here but fear mixed with futility deters me. To be honest with myself (at the very least), one of my biggest fears of writing has been that it will confirm what has been acknowledged by my dearest friends-- I am dyslexic. My spellings are ummm creative, grammar pathetic and vocabulary limited. This doesn't do much for my own self-confidence, partly compensated by my rather apologetic sense of being. Ask me to write about objective, hard topics on politics, governance and i can do a pretty decent covering act. But a personal blog and all i can muster is a few garbled sentences, carelessly put together.

Anyways, something in me this year is asking me to write. Call it my inner voice or conscience but it is really quite persuasive. So here i am typing away when i actually should be working. Yes, i have been shirking work since 2008. I am essentially the kind of worker who needs a kick-in-the-butt to set the ball rolling. Who isn't? All we white-collar NGO workers have is a neutered sense of idealism (rightfully) and downsized convictions. 7 years of this life and i'm done--cynicism included. Hopefully 2015 shall see less of pent-up frustration and more of genuine ambition.

(Yay! this space is almost full. Happiness.)

had a sleepless night on the eve of the election results. may be it is in anticipation of the dread i feel for modi. no i'm just being a little dramatic. to be honest, i find modi's rise on the national stage hugely unsettling. respect the verdict of the ballot box is what i tell myself but part of me is contemptuous of majority rule. what do the masses know, huh? that modi is the saviour, the benevolent patriarch. yes, i'm off the mark. yes, this is the typical elite refrain that is part hubris, part naivety. but hell modi is on a mission mode to be the shining star of india's political constellation. his competition is not rahul, sonia, may be not even bapuji, netaji.  his place is among the grand hindu myths of ram, krishna, blah blah. modi makes for a perfect myth-making machine. myths are always tricky-their provenance is contested but their legacies indisputable. yes, bring it on-abki baar, modi sarkar- the mantra on your lips. thank you and goodbye.

So i got up this morning, pulled the sheets from P, stared at his face, tickled his mustache, pounced on him, bit him several times to wake him up and then declared a resounding 'good morning'.