Saturday, Come Again!

I think Saturday is probably my favorite day of the week. Everything seems so serene with the official work week just coming to an end and the start of next one being - or seeming to be - a good while away :). There suddenly seems to be an abundance of time (an illusions, yes!), specially if on wakes up early and the goal of day is to just chill, chill, just chill...

*enjoying this bliss and not thinking about Sunday for now*

Happy Saturday!

Feeler or Thinker?

I edited the About Me section on Facebook, adding:

Visual and Tactile + Feeler *and* Thinker = Designer, in training.

Soon, ended up googling the difference between Feeler and Thinker and found the following:

To describe a Thinker as a Thinker is both honest and affirming, but to describe a Feeler as a Feeler is often felt to be disaffirming or demeaning. Feelers therefore wish to imagine themselves Thinkers, regardless of the facts. Just as there is only one answer to the question, "Are you lying?" (No), regardless of whether the respondent is telling the truth or lying, so also everybody wants to tell you they are a Thinker: the actual Thinkers follow their own values by telling the truth, and the Feelers also affirm their own values in lying about it -- but in doing so they violate the values they falsely claim of themselves.

Hah! The irony! Makes me wonder if I'm a Thinker-wannabe. Probably am! :)

Current State of Mind. Lost. Confused.

I like my current profile picture on Facebook. It has a cold, lost feel to it. It reminds me of philosophical dilemmas. Which, by the way, since have no answers, turn Atheists into Spiritualists, I believe. Not to say that these two have to be distinct. One can both reject the existence of an ultra-omni being and still strive for inner peace. The difference being, self-reliance and self-control leading the way instead of dependence or fear. 

But I digress. Back to the picture. 

The cold feel is probably driven by memory. Lit up trees remind me of Christmas and New Years. Lost, of course, is due to the "ghost" affect, but primarily because of my current state of mind. Surrounded by people, work, responsibilities and a new confusion. Walking the "who am I?" path, again! Did this last year, turned out well. Now, however, it bothers me to be back in this state. Partly because I think it came too soon - it has barely been an year, that's Short! Makes me wonder if I messed up the last time, or left the process incomplete. Eh, this statement sounds so effin' full of void. It has no answer! Damn figuring-shit-out phases! 

And also, it's partly troublesome because, I realize it's a never ending process. Which in itself is bothersome. Never ending?! That phrase is bothersome. How does one deal with something that will never ever end? Is there a point in dealing with it or is it just a waste of time? Don't answer that. I know it's NOT a waste of time; instead it's a step at a time. But, a step at a time to what? Where am I trying to reach? Fucking Nirvana? Well, that'll take lifetimes!

Anyways. So yeah, this is where I currently stand. Lost. Confused.

Just Do It

Is it easier to hate than to love?

…or may be it's a matter of convenience.

Discomfort stricken. But the deed must be done.

"Give me some sunshine, give me some rain…"

Crime. Fear. Shoot.

It's scary how scared we're of the dark, empty, quite night. While standing in the balcony at 3:30 in the morning, I decided I wanted to take a picture of Atlanta downtown sharing the skyline with mist. Stepping out of the apartment door with the expensive gear, noisily walking across the hallway to the elevator, and getting to the 7th floor of the parking garage was a whole another level of decision making. It required contemplation, careful weighing of reward and threat, reminder to buy a pepper spray, intensely alert ears, and courage to infinity. I did it - out and up and clicked and back - but did not feel 100% safe until I was back inside [the apartment] with the door double-locked.

Even when the elevator doors opened, I waited for a few seconds and entered - and exited - slowly, carefully studying my surroundings. The first five minutes on the deck were spent walking around, looking down walls and railings, making sure all was safe. Even when satisfied with the investigation, gear was being setup by hands, while eyes and ears were still on guard. Buildings weren't lit-up the way I wanted so the photo-shoot was a waste, but even if they had looked perfect, I couldn't have given my entire self to the project.

Crime sucks. Fear blows.

I need a late night shooting buddy.

Cliché, with a touch of self.

uneasy darkness threatened by fire

unstable emotions fueling desire

I hide behind an invisible veil,

nobody knows the real tale...

Happy Ramadan!

In mere sixty minutes, the moon went from a shy and delicate light-weight white curve to a confident and bold orange-red accent-poser demanding for attention. Pictures, from my baby lens anyway, can't do justice; words will have to suffice.

PS: Thinking about giving fasting a try; the self-control - and in turn self-realization - bit sounds intriguing.

Photo Metadata

Focal Length: 53mm

F-Stop: 5.6

Exposure: 1.3sec

Edits: crop

iSnap

Either I'm getting old, or lack patience - BIG TIME! It annoys me, literally makes my blood boil, to chat with people who use short forms for e-v-e-r-y d-a-m-n t-h-i-n-g. I mean, why the F can't you write nice instead of nyc [fyi, nyc = new york city, dumb ass!]. I mean, WTF! What's more annoying is, they wouldn't know what official chat lingo means - lol, rofl, brb. Where the hell are these people coming from?!

So in future, when you ask me when I'm "online" and I reply "I don't sign into messengers" ... OR... if due to some miracle I am indeed signed in but chose to never respond to your messenges ...don't, DO NOT!, ask me why.

Kaanch si madira...

Out of the blue, without any fault of mine - and I mean it, I did nothing! Followed all rules of decent clothing - my nose started acting up on Sunday evening. Attack of the cold! It was taking a major toll on concentration and Monday night I realized that whiskey works wonders in curing stupid runny noses than any over the counter drug. That night was a good night :). Next morning I was almost cured, and the morning after that fully cured!

Next arrived Mr. Deadly Cough. Ignored it for one night - not good! Two tiny sips the next morning, kept my throat clear the e-n-t-i-r-e day! The day has now faded away and so has the drug. Thus, I return to the [bar] counter, pour myself a drink, sit back and s-i-p it this Thursday night while reading about John Baskerville.

Golden opportunity to have the golden drink!

On another note: came up with this while trying my dumbness on the guitar. First string, alternate frets.

First, Random Try by middlseat

<3 Macs. Period.

In the midst of using only Macs at home, school, work, everywhere(!) over the past six-months, I had forgotten about - or become accustomed to (depending on how one looks at it) - its neat features. A great deal at hand, having to juggle an unusual amount of work, jumping through windows and tasks [during this last week of second quarter] re-birthed my love, admiration, obsession for this crafty machine.

<3 Macs. Period. Full Stop. Poorn Viraam.

An A/C Less Summer. May be.

I love the sound and feel of a fan. It takes me back to the summers spent in our [less than] mediocre home in Model Town, Delhi. Lying on the cool farsh (floor), staying protected from loo-full afternoons, drinking Thumbs Up poured from [dirty, recycled] 500ml glass bottles while watching Chhutti-Chhutti.

Atlanta weather, this year, has been playing a game of finally hot! nope, chili again :P in the middle of May. So chili that it demands a sweatshirt and so hot that it makes you wanna strip. Either way, the central heating or air conditioning at Punti's stays put at "off." During the hot part of the summer, comes out the fan along with nostalgia and both him and I indulge in reminiscing conversations of our separate - yet similar - childhood summers :)

Aal Izz Well

It's amazing how much we rely on our bodies functioning normally. In the past two days, the machine(s) encasing my soul has been struck by a stiff neck, inflexible muscles, insomnia, and a fear of catching a cold, to mention just a few. Some of these may be interrelated, for example, neck pain making sleep a distant dream. Others, a result of prolonged dismissal of important activities: no yoga = old age, aka inflexible muscles.

Sure, I enjoyed insomnia night one. Sleepless, tired-less night. The world around me dark and quiet, the other side of the globe a frolicking bunch. Night two, however, should not have seen the sunrise but mid-day instead. After the initial fun it's just repetition, monotony, same-old! Fun turns into loneliness and excitement into anger.

On another note, finished my first quarter of art school two weeks ago. Did [extremely] well in academics after f-o-u-r l-o-n-g y-e-a-r-s; tasted my hard-earned triumph after, what once felt like, eternal darkness. March 23rd, the day I looked at my final grades, marked the end of one and the beginning of another cycle. During the first I saw all different levels of academic success, primarily driven by my social success. Current cycle's social success, I promise, will depend on my professional success.

Oh, lastly, I am [finally - not that I was hurrying -] in a committed relationship. Same guy, different story ;)

Hello, darkness, my old friend.

What does it mean when a place brings out the lazy in someone. Or maybe, it's not the lazy but, the scary in them. What if, you're in a place where you spend all your days in bed, under the covers, interacting with the world virtually. Only virtually. Never stepping out, not doing things you promised yourself you'd do, leaving the room only when it's a bodily need - feeding, excreting. The primary driving force here is a place; when outside its boundaries, all becomes well.

I enter such boundaries by will at times because if I don't, guilt starts creeping in. Initially so slowly that realization, dismissal, repetition enters what appears to be an infinite loop, pushing the equation off balance little by little, eventually reaching the point of, well, return. And thus reappears the scare, the fear, that thing that seems to be sitting on my soul, pushing me down, preventing myself from being myself.

May be it's time to say good-bye. Or, could it be, a see-ya-later!