Tuesday, 11 June 2013

And then what..

I've suddenly realised that this summer marks my third year of being back home. It only seems like yesterday when I was in class in Delhi, attempting to understand a classroom whose occupants would run about claiming to be right in a few months' time, with what I can only presume to be - in hindsight - goggles that closely resembled beer goggles. It also seems like it was yesterday when I was wearing my heart on my sleeve, running behind a girl in an attempt to garner her attention, only to be told that I didn't know what I was doing. Why, thank you, Miss.

Sometimes I am a sellout. I go on this diatribe about nostalgia being useless and how indulging in the past doesn't, in any conceivable manner, affect anything that should matter, other than may be make you pause and waste time, for whatever it's worth. I don't understand things. When I don't, I try to and when I don't, I am heartbroken.

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What I am undergoing right now at work can be summarised by something someone said, I can't for the heck of it remember who. If you're good at three things, he/she said, it's the perfect scenario. If, for instance, you're good at sticking to a deadline, your work is good and your colleagues love interacting with you, that's the ideal scenario.

I am not, thankfully, a slave to that ideal. I am a pain to work with. My senior colleagues have all but gone down on their knees begging for me to discuss story ideas with them, but may be they've unleashed a monster (heh, it's good to flatter the self at times) by not appointing a colleague for me to work with.

*

I find myself, disturbingly, in the same situation that I was in this time last year, with regards to work and my plans for the future. When the plan was about to go haywire this time last year, I told myself I'd make some radical changes. May be having to live alone is a big change enough - or may be I've convinced myself of that.

Things change and shit happens and you're glad and you lose sight and you travel the circle like some blind fcuker with a misplaced sense of elevated confidence. You watch and attempt to understand work that is supposedly inspirational and life changing and it ends up having the same effect on you as the terms drag co-efficient and pitch and yaw would have on a three-year-old. You begin to think the wall you built to repel the advises of chatty folks had outlived its purpose. You might come to realise that there's little you can do and will do and you start blabbering in your head and you think it'll sound better on paper and start to write and your pen won't work but you have to put it down so you reach for a keyboard connected to a bright screen and you start typing and you realise the crap-factor of your thoughts hasn't changed in over years. That makes you happy.

1 comment:

Swayam India said...

How the hell do you not ever get any comments on your posts. I mean, how the hell????
What the f**k has happened to everyone????
The flow, frustration, cynicism, wit and some other abstract nouns that I can not think of right now but you have got the general idea, I find in your writing is quite rarely seen these day, I mean, at least by me anyway. Seriously man, great job!!