List Rant... Whats Up?

I rarely update just out of the need to update, but its been a long time, and well even though I've sat down to write here on many an occasion, I just haven't been able to find anything interesting. So here is a list of stuff that might or might not interest you, but well I'm going to write them down anyway...

1. I'm in the middle of finals(exams) week. Can't stop thinking about switching out of dreaded engineering.... any ideas for a career path?

2. I have the most awesome mum dad Tara and shandy in the world. I'm itching to go back home and give them a hug.

3. It snowed the other day for the first time this winter, and that proceeded with an insane drop in temperature. Makes me appreciate the warmth of my room.

4. I have too much stuff in my room, but somehow, I end up needing all of it... that must be a genetic thing.

5. It has been a long long semester, and for the first time, I regret not knowing what to expect next year.

6. I miss being able to play basketball every night and being good at it. All I want to do right now is go to the gym and work on my jumper....

7. My ankle is up and running again, but it still hurts randomly. Wonder if it will ever be the same again.

8. Played tennis the other day. First time i've played all year. It reminded me how much I love the sport.

9. Which brings me to the Grandpa's advice of the blog-post-day: Even if you need to grind out your day, doing things that you need to do rather than things that you want to do, don't let go of your passions, and when you get a breather, spend some time doing things you want to do. It feels good :)

10. I realize that I have been single for the longest time. I've come to the point where I don't really see myself with anyone at all. I don't know whether I like being single or not... It can get lonely sometimes...

11. So much of what you do is where you are or need to be to do it. I don't want to distance myself from home, but what if I want to get out of the coop*? It's a scary thought, but can't help but think about it.

12. Which brings me to question... what qualifications does it take to become a statistician? Hmm.. what qualifications does it take to become a pro-league Referee?

13. The NBA is a melting pot of an insane number of stories and journeys... I've got to stop spending so much time on their blogs...

14. Sticking to fruit diets is very hard.

15. I am on twitter now... I never thought the day would come, but well, I'm riding the fad and lets see how it goes. I hate their 140 word limit though. It forces you to drop vowels and what not. I was inspired after following Shashi Tharoor's tweets. Although I contemplated getting in touch with Steve Nash as a legitimate skirmish, before I realized that even twitter cannot make that possible. Follow me here if you care to that is... and I will follow you, I think thats how it works.... *n()()b*

16. Coffee goes well with snow.

17. I really enjoy maths.... when I understand what the effin hell is going on.

18. Intellectual property rules are nullified when they are enforced upon you. I think its only fair to leave the decision of whether or not you would like to share your information with someone up to you-the owner of the content, and not to some third party board member rubbish.

19. Most of the bloggers that I started out blogging with have kind of faded away. So if you are reading this right now, and you see your blog on my blogroll, and you see that the last time you updated your blog was in 1935, click on your link, sign in, and UPDATE!!!

20. I have 3 exams in the next 5 days. I should get back to my books.


*Read The White Tiger. You will like it.

Catching Up

its 4pm now and I finally got my program working.... little bit happier now

Finality Rant... Playing Catchup

This is an unhappy post, because right now I am sad and tired and unhappy and also because I can.

It's nearly 6:30am in the morning and I'm sitting in the computer lab. I've been sitting here since 5pm yesterday. I'm updating my blog now because I've more or less given up on my program.

It's probably my fault that I don't know how to do it. My prof, he tries to explain stuff in class, but nothing sticks. Not for me at least. I flunked the midterm. Probably my fault again. I catch myself doodling during the day, calculating the marks I need to pass. If not scribbling on the table, my mind is always on it.

I look at the people around me. most of them have dark circles, receding hairlines, slumped shoulders, stressed and scratched skin. Many are wearing the same clothes as they did yesterday.

And then there are those who look fresh as ever. Sharp haircuts, calculated expressions, positive body language, relaxed. I try to imagine what they do when they are not at school. Probably hard at work doing their homework and figuring out labs. And they still have the time to come to class.

There is no peace in my mind. Always turmoil. Calculating how far I've fallen behind in maths or when the next project is due. I knew it wasn't going to be fun, but I didn't think I it was unmanageable.

I'm sitting here in the lab, nearer to 6:30am, and I wonder. I wonder why I'm the only one sitting here. The only one with his work undone. Out of two hundred and eighty students, why am I the only one here? I know it's probably my fault. I shouldn't have skipped those two lectures last month.

It all happens so fast. before you know it, your midterms are over, and now the pressure is on for the finals. Maybe if I can stop calculating how much I need in the finals, maybe if i can stop... I could get some work done.

When I was around 10 years old... and that's pretty far back for me, I realized something about myself. I was competitive. When it came to tennis, I would put my heart and soul into it. But as soon as I fell back in a game, all of that fiery spirit just fizzled out. And if i ever lost, it took me the longest time to bounce back, if I ever did manage to.

That's the same feeling I have at the beginning of September. My eyes are set on the goal, and nothing is going to stop me from getting a perfect score this year. And then the first test happens. I study humbly for it. Do all the questions and all the papers. The question paper is simple, but i choke. 60% on something I should have aced. I stumble on the next paper and the next and the next.

I know its probably my fault. Maybe i should have put in some more effort.

And now I'm here. At the lab at just past 6:30am. I probably won't get this program to work by 5pm. Not without some divine intervention and sleep.

And so I give up.

I want to keep writing, but I'll spare you the words. That is, if you got this far.

Crash

There are words, there are sounds, there are actions and there is you and me. With my words, I persuade you to believe in me. With my sounds, I make you feel for me. With my actions, I make you succumb to my illusion.

I am every cliche you hear. I am every truth you believe. I am standing next to you, always. Even when I am oceans away, you will feel me, breathing down your neck.

There are words, there are sounds, there are actions, and there is everyone. Dressed in flowers and painted with makeup, they are ready to take the stage. They are ready to put on the show of your life... the show that is your life.

Sometimes I feel like I am not real. Sometimes I feel like each step I take is unimportant. So I convince myself that I am relative to you. I am what you make of me.

Paint me a picture, write me a song. Fill me with your touch. Fill me with your reality. And I will fill you with mine. Tread carefully though, for there might be gaping holes for you to see through. They are because of my downfalls. They are the birth of new knowledge. Knowledge about you through the eyes of me.

There have been many before you, and there will be many after. And you may come to wonder what the point of these lead words are. You may wonder why you smile for me everyday when I walk past you in the hallway. You may wonder how it is possible to fill an empty basin with more emptiness. You may wonder about the reason for this reality.

I cannot give you the answer to that in words. I cannot give you the answer in sounds. I cannot give you the answer in actions. But look at me. Concentrate on me. Look at yourself. Close your eyes and look at everyone. Touch them.


"It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."

-Paul Haggis, Crash (2004)

The Mask I Wear

Don't be fooled by the face I wear
For I wear a mask. I wear a thousand masks-
masks that I'm afraid to take off
and none of them are me.
Pretending is an art that's second nature with me
but don't be fooled,
for God's sake, don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure
That all is sunny and unruffled with me
within as well as without,
that confidence is my name
and coolness my game,
that the water's calm
and I'm in command,
and that I need no one.
But don't believe me. Please!

My surface may be smooth but my surface is my mask,
My ever-varying and ever-concealing mask.
Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, in aloneness.
But I hide this.
I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my
weaknesses
and fear exposing them.
That's why I frantically create my masks
to hide behind.
They're nonchalant, sophisticated facades
to help me pretend,
To shield me from the glance that
knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation,
my only salvation,
and I know it.

That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
and if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself
from my own self-built prison walls

I dislike hiding, honestly
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing,
the superficial phony game.
I'd really like to be genuine and me.
But I need your help, your hand to hold
Even though my masks would tell you otherwise
That glance from you is the only thing that assures me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.

But I don't tell you this.
I don't dare.
I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh
and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing,
that I'm just no good
and you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate, pretending game
With a facade of assurance without,
And a trembling child within.
So begins the parade of masks,

The glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's nothing
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying
Please listen carefully and try to hear
what I'm not saying
Hear what I'd like to say
but what I can not say.

It will not be easy for you,
long felt inadequacies make my defenses strong.
The nearer you approach me
the blinder I may strike back.
Despite what books say of men, I am irrational;
I fight against the very thing that I cry out for.
you wonder who I am
you shouldn't
for I am everyman
and everywoman
who wears a mask.
Don't be fooled by me.
At least not by the face I wear.

- Author unknown