No timetables for me

It’s nice to have a timetable. To have each moment of the day planned out. To boast about how you know where each penny went. Feels organized, so cool na? And then, after a few weeks, it gets boring.

Why live the same life over and over again?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Yesterday's Class

Yes, I am learning music. Again. Finally. Some interesting conversations that happened in yesterday’s class. I asked, “How can anyone identify the Sur involved in a piece of music, when the concept of Sur is totally relative?” He told me it is one of the most difficult problems in music. People consider the Tanpura as some sort of standard, but it isn’t completely accurate. The solution is being researched, but he said he believed it was one of those non-computable problems. Reminded me of the good great Halting Problem. We were trying to sing different surs in random order. Ofcourse, we faltered. He said, “Understand the problem statement. And then strategize.” We saw we could easily break down the random order into pieces we had already learnt and that made it so much easier to sing. Association and Disassociation. I have always believed, Science, Religion, Spirituality, Art, Music, all these weren’t created to individually exist. They all support each other in some way or the other.
Read more

Grown Up

I don’t know what gripped me, but I crawled on my knees, across the expanse of my empty living room. It felt difficult, my knees already felt weak, and a rising pain shot through my leg. “What’s wrong with you?” I said to myself. “You could do this even as a kid!” Fortunately or otherwise, I had grown up. And little things like crawling and so many other things, weren’t practical anymore. I laughed at myself. “Grown up! Yeah, right!” Grown up meant having to make plans, and even worse, make them happen. Grown up meant to keep track of every cent you spent, and still be dumbfounded with the mystery of the missing five hundred bucks when the spreadsheets didn’t tally at the end of every month. Grown up meant being condemned for making the silliest of mistakes. Grown up meant having hurried lunches and dinners and breakfasts. Grown up meant forgetting birthdays, even your own, even worse, not believing in the celebration anymore. Grown up meant saying things you hardly meant, and hearing ...
Read more

When relatives come calling

I don’t have much experience, I must admit. Being brought up abroad, for me, relatives were just people whom you take away gifts for, during your visit to India, and in turn, you get to spend some time with them, to sit and laugh, and recall memories no one actually remembers. But what happens when you are done with earning all your dough abroad, and come back… And… one fine beautiful morning, relatives come calling… Welcome… Now, that’s one important thing you must do. Pick up them up at the airport or station or bus stand or your doorstep. Carry their luggage for them, irrespective of the fact whether they have goodies in store for you or not. And yes, when they enter your home, greet! Don’t ever forget to do that, you have to say, “Vaango, vaango” or perhaps “Aayeeye aayeeye”, even if you are actually thinking about that sweet time when they’ll be gone. Goodies... Like what they bring for you. Perhaps they actually picked it up from that rotten sale that was up to clear out stocks, ...
Read more