This is not a tag...I jus wanted to put it down. Dreams, all of us have them. Different dreams. Some of them change as we grow up. Some don't. Most of them may remain jus that- dreams. And some come true. I've got my own list...things I really really wanna do before I die...n thanks moi, for this post.
Go to Venice...
I've always wanted to, ever since I found out bout this place for the first time. And that was when I was in 2nd std. Travel in a gondola, with the gondolier singing his song...in a language I dont understand, the feeling I may. There is no one in particular I wanna go with...but if I have someone along with me, I'd wanted it to be someone who'd understand what I see....
Get completely drunk
I drink, but I dont get drunk. Because I dont like making a fool outta myself, in front of people. So I wanna get so drunk, that I dunno what I am doing. I wanna kiss a complete stranger, hurl abuses, dance like a girl possessed.
Trust someone with my life
I've issues with trust. I let people close, but not too close. I trust my friends, but if u lose my trust once, then its difficult to get it back. People I've really really trusted ve let me down before. But I've also lived with it, n not be bothered too much. For once I wanna trust someone with everything I've...so much that I that trust breaks, I will too. For good.
Fall in love
Madly. Completely. It'd be nice if the guy I fell in love with feels the same bout me too. But even if he doesn't, I still wanna get to know that crazy/beautiful feeling that everyone's so ga-ga about. I wanna feel what it is like to feel SO much for a person. To care so much, that everything else feels inconsequential.
Become a columnist
I wanna write. No, I have to write.That is the one single passion I ve in life. Only thing that I really, fiercely care about. And I like people to read what I write. That was the reason for journalism, but the cynicism of those in the profession shook me. I didnt wanna become someone who lost the joy in life. So well, a columnist. So I can write what I want to. Talk about things I care, without restrictions, or editors to please.
Make my parents proud
I mean really, really proud. So far, I've always followed my dreams. Unfortunately, my dreams dont match with those of my parents'. They'd rather have me be successful the unconventional way. But they have never forced me to do something I wouldn't like. They have always given me options, told me what they'd like me to chose, but left me the option of choosing the other. And supported me. And, been proud in my acheivement. But I know that somewhere in their hearts, they still wish for a different daughter. And that hurts. So for once, I wanna do something that will make them proud, n really really happy-proud. I dunno what that is...but someday...
Travel all around the country...alone
I wanna see whole of this country that I so proud of. N not thru the eyes of a tour guide. Not through a package luxury tour. I wanna get a jeep, pack off few cloths in a back pack, n go see the hearts of India...the forests in Assam, leh, go trekking, walking in the woods, live with locals in an obsecure village hidden away from the modern world...
Get a house by a beach...
Not a crowded beach. Not a huge house. Just some place where I can sit out on the porch, n see the waves wash up. Where I can sit with a mug of coffee in my hand, watch the rain drops fall in the sea n be lost. Where I can talk the night away...feel all n nothing...
Free fall...
bunjee jump into the water...
Learn how to swim...
Make someone's life worthwhile...
Adopt a child...
Buy ice cream for a kid on the road...
Write a love story...
Get lost in a strange country n be rescued by a kind stranger...
Be stranded in a Forrest...
Meet a murderer...
Live...n then die...n see who all come to my funeral. Who all cry. N who all say, thank god...
Monday, May 29, 2006
Friday, May 05, 2006
The Biggest Reality Show Ever…
There are some days that just knock u off your feet. Some days when u just wake up with a smile on our face, not really knowing that it will the only one on your face the entire day. Some days when everything just seems to go wrong, as though the whole universe just conspired to make you feel utterly miserable. That was last Sunday. And that was the last post.
Ever get this feeling that you’re watching your own life happen from outside? No, I don’t mean to ask if u have suffered a mild case of dissassociative disorder. Just that at times, u just feel that things happening to you, are not really happening to u. they are not really real. Well, if you have never felt that way, I’d request u to stop reading right here. I wouldn’t want u to think that I’m a raving lunatic. Neither do I want to put ideas into your head.
Well, this feeling that I get once in a while, often gets me thinking. What the hell is reality anyways. Who decides what is real n what is science fiction? I mean, matrix could be real. So could Hogwarts. Sure, now u are thinking, “ Yeah right, and the moon is made of blue cheese, n clouds are made of kurlo pillows. This kid’s gone way off the rocker.” Its convenient right? We have made categories for everyone to fit in. Even for those who don’t want to- they are the miss-fits. The radicals. If someone says or believes in something that doesn’t fit into the system, they are immediately cast away as schizophrenics, maniacs. The Not-normals.
This brings us back to my original question. Who decides what is normal? Whose reality are we living anyways? I remember one day in college, tsu, me and killi had this HUGE debate over this. Well, mostly it was killi n me, with tsu trying placate me, while supporting killi’s view. Killi claimed that reality was quite simply what she could see, feel, touch n hear. I countered that so does a schizophrenic, so why is that called hallucination? She counter-countered that, well what a schizo’s reality is something that only he can see. But her reality is something that all of us can…she, me, tsu, the guy sitting in the adjacent bench trying to evesdrop, all of us. So well, I asked, then that simply means that your reality is dependant on the corroboration of others. Which when simply put can just mean that whatever the majority thinks, believes, and says, becomes the reality. It may be wrong, but then u gotta live with it.
This brings us to another favourite theory of mine. That this big, beautiful world of ours, runs on a few sets of parameters. And on the assumption that every man, woman, n child, accept n believe in those parameters. These parameters may not always make sense, but they are essential building blocks of our world. If they crumble, we crumble. So when some enlightened soul stands up to question them, it becomes necessary for us to label them as crazy, so that we don’t have to grope in the darkness for answers. Because we are quite happy to live with the answers that we already have. So well, if we believe that matrix is a reality, it kinda burdens us with a need to take a stand. Do we, go on as we did even after knowing the truth? Or do we, like Neo, fight for freedom? Choice…it’s not just our greatest gift, it is also our biggest burden. We chose our reality. We chose what we want to believe. And we chose to be who we are. Reality, my friend, is a myth. It’s all in your head…zombie.
Ever get this feeling that you’re watching your own life happen from outside? No, I don’t mean to ask if u have suffered a mild case of dissassociative disorder. Just that at times, u just feel that things happening to you, are not really happening to u. they are not really real. Well, if you have never felt that way, I’d request u to stop reading right here. I wouldn’t want u to think that I’m a raving lunatic. Neither do I want to put ideas into your head.
Well, this feeling that I get once in a while, often gets me thinking. What the hell is reality anyways. Who decides what is real n what is science fiction? I mean, matrix could be real. So could Hogwarts. Sure, now u are thinking, “ Yeah right, and the moon is made of blue cheese, n clouds are made of kurlo pillows. This kid’s gone way off the rocker.” Its convenient right? We have made categories for everyone to fit in. Even for those who don’t want to- they are the miss-fits. The radicals. If someone says or believes in something that doesn’t fit into the system, they are immediately cast away as schizophrenics, maniacs. The Not-normals.
This brings us back to my original question. Who decides what is normal? Whose reality are we living anyways? I remember one day in college, tsu, me and killi had this HUGE debate over this. Well, mostly it was killi n me, with tsu trying placate me, while supporting killi’s view. Killi claimed that reality was quite simply what she could see, feel, touch n hear. I countered that so does a schizophrenic, so why is that called hallucination? She counter-countered that, well what a schizo’s reality is something that only he can see. But her reality is something that all of us can…she, me, tsu, the guy sitting in the adjacent bench trying to evesdrop, all of us. So well, I asked, then that simply means that your reality is dependant on the corroboration of others. Which when simply put can just mean that whatever the majority thinks, believes, and says, becomes the reality. It may be wrong, but then u gotta live with it.
This brings us to another favourite theory of mine. That this big, beautiful world of ours, runs on a few sets of parameters. And on the assumption that every man, woman, n child, accept n believe in those parameters. These parameters may not always make sense, but they are essential building blocks of our world. If they crumble, we crumble. So when some enlightened soul stands up to question them, it becomes necessary for us to label them as crazy, so that we don’t have to grope in the darkness for answers. Because we are quite happy to live with the answers that we already have. So well, if we believe that matrix is a reality, it kinda burdens us with a need to take a stand. Do we, go on as we did even after knowing the truth? Or do we, like Neo, fight for freedom? Choice…it’s not just our greatest gift, it is also our biggest burden. We chose our reality. We chose what we want to believe. And we chose to be who we are. Reality, my friend, is a myth. It’s all in your head…zombie.
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