Thursday, July 26, 2012

Those yellow-tinted pages...

I came back home looking for something good and comforting. Something which will tell me not everything is futile and pointless. I came home searching for something that has been a little elusive of late. For meaning. For People. For reasons to continue.  

As I laid the keys down with a sigh,  I noticed something slide at the back. Something i haven't really looked at in a long time. Something which reminds me of a time that now seems eternities ago. A time when I could call myself a student and when I was looking forward to something bigger and better. Today, those times seem long gone - distant and forgotten. Today, I face the realities of life without the brilliant hope that always clouded my vision. 

Today, as I flip through those yellow-tinted pages, I look back and a smile appears on my face. What transpired doesn't feel all that bad. Those were the pages of a book of memories. A book that was conceived as we stepped out into the real world after many trials and tribulations. From jealousy to deceit, from harassment to appreciation, from love to heart break- in those five years, we had seen it all as a collective. We were now looking at escape - at taking flight as we completed our PhDs. 

I look back at the makings of that book and think of how it had been plagued with problems. I wonder at how this tiny thing had caused us so much trouble then. We had complained of the unfair distribution of effort, lack of interest, acknowledgment etc etc from the others even as we had plodded along with despite all obstacles. Despite all our complaints, we had persisted. The three of us had stayed the course and got the book ready for all our batch mates. I call them batch mates, because friendship is a word reserved for special bonds and while these were not the fondest, there was still a comfort in these relationships. There was still a sense of camaraderie and fun that would shine through the dust and grime of problems, frustrations, egos and differences at everyone of our get togethers. 

That book was a parting note, our swan song to a group that had meant a lot at one point but had soon been roughed up by the winds of time. The past half a decade of our life was imprinted on those pages in the form of pictures, sketches, collages and messages. As I see the pages, I think of all the hours that went through putting everything together - from collecting the pictures, to arranging them to finally printing the book. But then, today, I am glad we did it. 

Because at the end of the book, I see those messages of farewell in scrawls and scribbles and I feel the sentiment behind it all. I see the words - "smile", "friendship", "journey", "love", "farewell" and after a while, I can feel them too. I can feel the presence of that hopeful girl somewhere underneath it all. I at least know she is not dead.

Somehow it feels that the story is far from over yet. That there is a lot more out there than what I am able to perceive. And who knows, something good may come out like that thin, spiral-bound book from the present too. 

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

An ideal husband - some thoughts that stayed!

Excerpts from "An Ideal husband".

An Ideal Husband is an 1895 comedic stage play by Oscar Wilde which revolves around blackmail and political corruption, and touches on the themes of public and private honour. Saw the movie adaptation over the weekend and I feel reading the original script now. The movie was hilarious, witty, satirical, spontaneous and not devoid of wisdom... all that a good play/movie should be ! Here are some excerpts which stayed long enough with me.

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To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

It is a great nuisance. I can't find anyone else to talk to. I'm so full of interesting information, I feel like the latest edition of something or other. Well, after some consideration... so much to do, there's only one thing to be done. There comes a time in every son's life when he must, indeed, follow his father's advice: I shall go to bed at once.

"Lord Caversham: I don't know how you stand society. A lot of damned nobodies talking about nothing.
Lord Arthur Goring: I love talking about nothing, Father. It's the only thing I know anything about.
Lord Caversham: That is a paradox, sir. I hate paradoxes. "

"Sir Robert Chiltern: I will give you any sum of money you want.
Laura: Even you are not rich enough to buy back your past, Sir Robert. No man is. "

"Sir Robert Chiltern: Anyway, what's that saying about the sea and there being plenty of fish in it?
Lord Arthur Goring: Ah, yes, but I couldn't possibly marry a fish. I'd be sure to land an old trout. "

"Lord Arthur Goring: My dear Mrs. Cheveley, I should make you a very bad husband.
Laura: I don't mind bad husbands. I've had two. They amused me immensely. "

"Lord Caversham: What are you doing here, sir? Wasting your time, as usual?
Lord Arthur Goring: My dear father, when one pays a visit, it is for the purpose of wasting other people's time and not one's own. "

"if we men married the women we deserved... we should have a very bad time of it. "

"Lord Arthur Goring: Gertrude, it is not the perfect, but rather the imperfect who have need of love.
Gertrude: You seem to know a great deal about it all of a sudden.
Lord Arthur Goring: Oh, I hope not. All I know, Gertrude, is that it takes great courage to see the world in all its tainted glory, and still to love it. And even more courage to see it in the one you love. Gertrude, you have more courage than any woman I have ever known. Do not be afraid now to use it. "

"Sir Robert Chiltern: Is it fair, Arthur?
Lord Arthur Goring: Life is never fair, Robert. And perhaps it is a good thing for most of us that it is not. "

"My father always tells me to go to bed, so I don't see why I shouldn't give you the same advice. I always pass on good advice. It is the only sensible thing to do with it. "

"Wonderful woman, Lady Markby, isn't she? Talks more and says less than anybody I ever met. "

"Lord Arthur Goring: There's somebody I want to you talk to.
Lord Caversham: What about?
Lord Arthur Goring: About me, sir.
Lord Caversham: Not a subject on which much eloquence is possible. "

"Gertrude: Oh, Arthur... what a good friend you are to him, to us.
Lord Arthur Goring: Yes, but we're not out of danger yet. In fact, I believe there's a rather popular saying about frying pans and fires, except now it is you and I, dear Gertrude, who are to be roasted. "

"Sir Robert Chiltern: Do you know, Arthur, I sometimes wish I were you.
Lord Arthur Goring: Do you know, Robert, sometimes I wish you were too. Except that you would probably make something useful out of my life, and that would never do. "

"Lord Caversham: You are 36.
Lord Arthur Goring: Shh! Father! I only admit to 32. "

"Sir Robert Chiltern: I will give you any sum of money you want.
Laura: Even you are not rich enough to buy back your past, Sir Robert. No man is. "

"Lord Caversham: Do you always understand everything you say?
Lord Arthur Goring: Yes... if I listen attentively.
Lord Caversham: Conceited young puppy! "

" Fashion is what one wears oneself. What is unfashionable is what other people wear. Other people are quite dreadful. The only possible society is oneself."

"Morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike."

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Missing!

I have heard a lot of people reminisce fondly about their childhood. I, on the other hand, have never had very strong memories of my childhood and consequently never really wished to be there again. Whatever little I remember is also not the most pleasant.

But for the past few days, as I battle withdrawal symptoms after my trip home, I am also silently wishing for a little time travel to find that strong willed, clear headed young adult that I was. The rebel who could see the world in absolutes, who could judge clearly and who knew exactly what she wanted. Where is that girl of 13, or maybe 16, who knew what she wanted in life ? Who could say the right from the wrong and who could take sides without doubt or guilt. 

Where did that girl get mired in the trappings of being an adult ? In the haze of grey that my adult eyes see everywhere? Where every opinion is to be regarded and carefully considered and weighed before being accepted or being put aside as not applicable for your special situation. Where every statement has a caveat or an exception and where every statement has a situation to go with. Where no one is absolutely right or wrong - just what works for them.

For once, I wish for the same clarity and the same conviction as I weigh my options and my choices. I long for that clear headed, little voice in my mind, when I really want to  make some decisions. 

Will I ever find her again or is she lost forever, mired in the neuronal connections of an adult brain ?