Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Holi Hai

First off, Happy Holi.

Now here's my plan for the day.

Sit at the end of the corridor outside my room with a copy of the day's paper, a can of pepper spray and a BB gun. Wait for some poor shmuck to come charging down with colours splashed all over his face and hands. Then mace the fucker in the face just three feet from his target. Watch in satisfaction as he rubs his eyes with his paint-stained hands, hence aggravating the pain further. Then take pot shots at him with the BB gun, not taking care to not hit him in the eyes since they'll be tightly closed (and hopefully burning really badly) anyway. Hopefully by then he'll get the hint that I'm not really interested in colouring myself silly and leave.

Sit back, read the paper till next shmuck comes along.

"The Luxury of Grief"

Grief comes to a person when something or someone is lost. It is not the best of feelings and many of us would rather we were over it as quick as possible - forget the past and move on. But the thing or person that is lost is grieved for because it or he or she was loved, and now will be no more (not to speak of death or the end of it but more of a paradigm shift in the way one relates to the thing or person lost)

We all grieve. Some more than others. In my younger days, I remember thinking that "the world is small, parting friends shall meet again", when the time to leave my school was upon me. So I did not grieve. I did not find it necessary to wallow in past memories and raise toasts to our beginning lives. At the end of college, the only grief I felt was because I would be leaving one good friend behind. One very good friend. I lamented that broken bond, maybe for too long, but it was not grief so much as it was mourning. The difference? Grief is when you are more nostalgic than sad, mourning is when you are more sad than nostalgic. Feel free to disagree. It's something I just came up with on the spot anyway.

Grief is a luxury. I could not afford it before not because of time or things to do but because I simply did not want to indulge myself. I've lived most of my life detached, a nomad who keeps moving - even within cities and within peoples. For a person who binges on the shopping list of change, Grief is a luxury I can ill afford.

So I will not grieve this time as well. I will not raise toasts to the past (except only with one friend) but to the future instead. I will not wallow in memories (except when talking about them of course) but will make plans for the future instead. I will feel nostalgic. And for the loss of the presence of the love of some friends, I will lament. I will shake hands and give that seemingly ominous and final hug, look back one last time and turn my body to salt. I will leave behind tidings to the tribute of those who follow me and one day return to do it all again, but I will not grieve.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Darkly Dreaming Dexter looking through a Scanner Darkly on a Dark & Stormy Night

A storm is coming, Frank says.
A storm that will swallow the children,
and I will deliver them from the kingdom of pain.
I will deliver the children back to their doorsteps;
I'll send the monsters back to the underground.
I'll send them back to a place where no one else can see them,
except for me
because I am Donnie Darko