The Fade to Black

Today marks the passing of a month since the death of our flatmate and friend, Nadia. For reasons that will probably be forever unknown, she decided to take her life just 2 days before what would have been her 21st birthday, in the most traditional of ways - A rope around her neck.

And for the past month, i have been quietly disgusted. Not at the fact that she 'chose the shortcut' or that 'she was too weak to face her problems'. But at the way people whisper and prod at her memory after her untimely demise. And yes, it includes close family members. Both mine and hers.

Our fathers were both in the same line of work and thats how we knew each other. You see, kids like us, especially those whose family doesn't have a family home in the state their fathers are assigned, spend our childhoods following our father's postings. These start at the rural areas and move towards the larger cities as seniority is attained. So we basically do not have a stable childhood, or people to grow up with, that may be considered childhood friends. The only kids we ever have a somewhat solid chance of befriending semi-long term are other officers kids. And even then, since no two officers follow the same pattern of transfer and posting continuously, its a very broken connection. Still, seeing a familiar face from time to time was of great comfort at times especially in the more barren regions. Nadia's family and ours have had the chance to stay in close quarters 5 times throughout. If i remember correctly, this is the most times we have kept contact with any other family. We were never the closest of friends, though there was a long period of time (almost a year) where due to the lack of any other distractions we spent some really interesting moments together, as pairs of siblings. Our youngest siblings, both being boys of a similar age, were the ones who were really able to strike a proper friendship. But this too wore off as time went on, as Nadia's younger brother went into less physical avenues of recreation while my brother was the opposite.

Nadia was a really nice person. Though she was never the sporty type, she was always lively. We had our own interests and relative hobbies, but she was the type that could jump into any group outing or activity. She was apparently above average in her studies and was good at making friends with people. She was quite on the thin side when it came to her looks, she even used to joke about having an Olive Oyl figure. By the time we were neighbours again though, she had withdrawn a bit and was a little more reserved, though this was pretty natural for any teen growing up and going through her latter stage of teen development. The last time we actually met was about a week and a half before the fateful day. It was a chance meeting at the Mall, she was with her college mates, she looked perfectly happy.

Its always the ones who look perfectly happy. They're the ones which hit the hardest. Because its that much more difficult to explain why and how it happened. Its like what Heath Ledger's Joker said in the seminal Superhero movie The Dark Knight Rises - "When things go according to plan, no one cares. When things don't go to plan, everyone loses their minds". The truth is, most people who are on the verge of the edge of hope in life tend to cover up their darkness with as much light as possible. Both for the sake of keeping it hidden, and for the sake of not hurting unnecessary bystanders and passers-by. Its the ones who everyone think look the happiest, sunniest and most cheerful, that walk the tightrope of tension, standing on the edge of the terrace or roof, looking down day after day at the inconsequential pitter patter of life oblivious to their existence, when no one else is looking or around.

People question the motives of the suicidee, contemplating what catastrophic event could have lead to such a hasty, drastic decision. But the truth is, when you're already on the edge of the cliff, it doesn't take much more than a rough breeze to push you down the vortex of death. By the time you're up there gasping for air, looking at the emptiness surrounding you, the wide chasm of darkness that lies in front of you looks very inviting. The promise of a new, unsure darkness can be a very viable alternative to the familiar blinding light. Some of us are able to find a thread of hope, an anchor to hold onto life and build up from then on, and some of us choose to dive headfirst into the swelling unknown. This may be blasphemous to say/write/think, but we'll never truly know who made the right choice until the end result for both is finally revealed in its entirety, when the curtain of death covers both in its call.

The most disturbing/disgusting comments are those that talk about how much of a "disgrace" for the family it is. When they question how she could kill herself when she had 'everything that a child could want'. Maybe they're nervous as fellow parents trying to cover up the holes in their own families and parenting styles, but it was so fricking obvious that she did NOT have 'everything a child could want'. At least not THIS particular "child".
What right do we have to judge the life trials of the dead? What justification do we have for criticising the choices of a person dead and gone? So what if he or she killed him/herself. I know, especially from a Christian viewpoint, that it kind of limits the choice of afterlife destinations. But why do we wonder so negatively about the person ESPECIALLY when we didn't give a damn about him/her when they were alive. Well, atleast not enough of a damn to notice that the person was on the verge of taking their life.

The living have no control over the dead. And so they try to cope with the memory of the person left behind.

Tarnish not, the faint memoir,
Blacken not, the fair portrait,
For in the end, all is the same,
Life is lived, and Dead is Death.

Eyes on the back of my head

The title of this post is normally used to describe a sixth sense that some people have which gives the eerie feeling that they can see everything thats going on, even things that are done behind their back. But in the context of this post, i'm using it to describe the feeling of having eyes looking AT the back of my head.

I hate the part of me that bothers about how people look at me. Not all the time. Just when i want to write something from the bottom of my heart.
Like now, when i blog.
It never used to bother me when i blogged before, but recently my posts have been getting some unprecedented attention. Its not like i've become an e-celebrity or anything, more like my previously obscure blogs have been brought a bit more into the public light.

This is NOT a post against the people who have been reading, sharing or recommending my blog. And i fully accept that i was the one who opened up my blog to a more public viewing. I appreciate all the views, all the comments and feedback. My day is made just that much brighter when i notice that more people have read my blog, or *gasp*commented on it (Er, not that i keep a track of it....everyday...":-D)

This IS a post against that part of me which i believe everyone has their own version of. My own little prima donna. The diva that lives in everyone's hearts. That little voice in our heads that makes you re-think what you're doing or saying with the audience in mind. Again, i do not hate this part of me all the time. In fact, i admit that it is a very useful part of me/us, especially in this socially networked world where a little comment can go a long way to making/breaking a person's reputation.

But i don't need it yapping away when i want to pour out my heart on a subject. Its like having a dam built on the river of my soul, draining the reckless abandon with which my creativity is fueled. I need to overcome it. I need to yank off the yoke of sobriety which i automatically put on when i feel someone is watching me.
This isn't Facebook. This isn't a social networking site, where our pictures and posts and likes are all posted to be put under public scrutiny. This is my Blog. Over the past 2 weeks, i have drafted around 4 posts that i just can't seem to properly finish or continue, because i'm afraid that i might write/post them with my censorship mode still on. I DONT want to post some accessible popular culture shit. I WANT TO POST MY LIFE, ME, MY THOUGHTS, MY SOUL.

This ends NOW. Begone, you Balrog that haunts the Moria of my blog. Begone you shadow of fire and flame. In the words of Gandalf the Grey,

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!!

Musical Euphoric Reverie - A Headbanger's Post

I Love This Pic!!

                                 Allow me to indulge myself with a bit of vanity for a moment.

This pic brings back so many good memories.
First off, it was probably the best overall performance we had ever given as a house band.
Secondly, I took a few risks that i had never taken before. The guitar wasn't mine (Scarlett wonked out on me), and the strings were pre-attached right before the show which means they would be prone to falling out of tune and tuning. The "top button exposed shirt" look was one my mom forced on me at the last moment before we went up on stage. I played an impromptu unrehearsed guitar solo and extended the normal one of my own accord.
Thankfully the guitar worked fine, the shirt didn't look as embarrassing as i thought it would and the guitar solo was apparently not bad at all.

But what i love most about this pic is that it is a 100% Money Back guarantee spontaneous pic. Yup, i'm not posing in the pic.
I wasn't even aware the pic was being taken while i was playing the guitar and i did not position myself perfectly in front of the mic, my head bent back at an almost perfect angle while playing the guitar in an off hand manner. Yes, this is probably the best pose i will ever strike, knowingly or unknowingly, for a camera ever and it was me, not me trying to be some cool looking badass with a guitar. It was just me.

But this post isn't about this pic per se, it isn't about how good my ego is shined up in describing how i look in this pic of full on RockSt*r awesomeness (Which it is >_<) {Vanity : Off}

This post is about WHAT i was feeling as i unconsciously posed for this pic. Because what i was feeling then was not just an emotion. It was a statement of Life.

People talk about how they love music and how music affects their lives. I believe this is true for all human beings who have a sense of hearing. No matter who you are or what type of person you are, there is going to be some piece of musical work that will move you in a way no other media or drug can. True music is one that moves the listener in some way. It doesn't have to be an earth shattering effect, it can be a slight tap on your shoulder making you smile or think in a small measure. It can uplift you, bring out a moment of happiness and bliss or it can focus your rage, stand for every cut, scar and bruise you've ever had and help you overcome sorrow. (Which is why i believe music should be divided according to moods, as well as genres. But thats a topic for another post :D)

It isn't a feeling exclusive to musically inclined people, or people who would consider themselves music literate. You don't need to understand how the music is made to enjoy it, or to be an avid, rabid fanboy to understand that the music can make you groove.
BUT i will admit that being a musician gives us an insight that most people would not understand. Especially in the genres of Rock and Metal. I'm not saying that we feel MORE for the music, we just feel it differently at times. Something metaphorical and primal.

The feeling you can get as you're up on the stage and you GET IT RIGHT is unparalleled. You feel this surge of feeling and electricity and you just want to channel it out any way you can. Its like being in an ecstasy filled cloud and everything around you just dies down and its between you and your instrument. And its like this mist is around you, this mist which starts to engulf you and reaches out to the crowd, and when it envelops the audience, and they start reacting to your music, its like you've made a connection. Like you're channeling all the emotion from your soul to their ears. It may last just a few seconds, but in those few moments, it is Nirvana. Every stretch of the muscle feels powerful, every signal through your nerves is like a bolt of lightning and every right note is like a shot of adrenaline. There is no logical explanation for why it affects us the way it does. It just does. And those moves you've seen on those 80's and 90's MTV/Vh1 vids?? The way those guys seem to be 'pouring the sugar on' or 'riding the lightning'?? Those happen naturally. Obviously, we would love to look as cool as Slash when he rips through the November Rain solo, but without TRYing to look like a rockstar, those movements just naturally happen, as if its what the universe deemed the right way to rock out.

And balls to anyone who exclusively associate narcotics and intoxicators with it. I was stone cold sober, but i still felt drunk as hell. And i loved it. Love it. Will always Love it.

Blogging - We are Human here.

I love the concept of blogging. There are certain additions to the technology at hand that i can imagine would improve the overall experience (like sifting through and recording the thoughts from our heads directly onto the blog :3), but i love the fact that i can have my own little Digital Space in the Internet which houses my opinions, thoughts, ramblings, poems or whatever random thing i want to put on here. It lets me put off steam  on burning issues that probably matter little or nothing to anyone but me. Everyday occurences or Once in a lifetime experiences that seem noteworthy at the time for us to make the effort to keep a record of it in cyberspace.

And the truth is, somewhere in my heart, i hope that it would matter to some random other. That my experiences and views put on digital paper would be able to serve as a guide or as an inspiration to anyone who might happen to stumble on to my corner of the World Wide Web. Yes, all bloggers are philosophers at heart. Its not so much that we are self-assured or self-confident, rather that we give ourselves assurance and confidence that if we could actually pull out stuff from the pandora's box inside our heads and write something even vaguely coherent, we have accomplished a great achievement in our personal lives.

Certain People i know, are of the assumption that one of the main appeals of keeping a blog is the holier-than-thou persona we can assume under the guise of our digital nicknames. And in some sense, that is true. Especially to the outside eye, when a blogger truly unleashes his/her viewpoint on an issue, it gives off the aura that we are playing God in our blog. That a blog, especially a private or obscure one, lets us leave our inhibitions behind to show our true colours. And in that sense, all bloggers are egotists, atleast just a teensy little bit. And we all have the right to be. As humans, that is one of the seminal personality traits that is not approved of by the vast majority of societal human beings, that we can express completely and inconsequentially in our blogs.

BUT does that make us God? Having our piece of the universe that revolves and spins around our control, surely it can seem we have a divine control over the matter that permeates it. But the truth is, its not. Under our control. I believe, belief being the key word here, that we let our hearts, souls and minds bare here. That no matter how ordered or calculated our posts seem to be, we are all driven by the formless base sense of being a Human being. Psychologists will forever debate on what exactly it is that makes humans, well, humans. What is the exact thing that seemingly divides our psyches from other social organisms around us. Whether it is Unification Thought or Empathy or whatever other psychological construct it may be though, what i can say without a shadow of a doubt is that Blogging is one of the defining behaviours of a Human being.

We bare our minds, souls and hearts here. In whatever little way it may seem to be. In whatever overly dramatic, blown up reverie we seem to be in. If ever i question myself on the nature of my humanity, i will look upon my blog, that which i have written for NO reason, for NO logic, for NO gain or accolades and see myself, naked and pure (Shame, the same can't be said of questioning my sanity though >_<)

Ironic isn't it. That one of the things that so surely, positively affirms the warmth and organic existence of my human soul exists in cold, emotionless Computer Code.

  

I'm still not over you

 I asked you out on a date. You politely declined. I wrote you a letter and confessed my crush. You politely rejected it. I asked you whether you could ever look at me in a different way other than being a friend. You politely, directly, emphatically, felicitously, laconically said no. This all happened in the space of almost two months. The last event happened nearly two weeks ago. And i have tried hard to adjust to the role i have been given. Of being friendzoned, yet again.

 It didn't seem like that big a problem. In a lot of ways, you make for a good friend. You get my humour, which is always a big thing with me. You get the jokes, the subtle jabs and the ironic sarcasm i use. You react very pleasingly to situational jokes that i build up to. Most people i know wouldn't even last the building up part. We share a lot of common interests, though not necessarily in actual interests, rather categories of interests to a certain degree. Like movies, serials, comics, music, etc which you don't mind talking and discussing about. And you're also a brilliant Whatsapp companion, due to the aforementioned qualities and your penchant for choosing appropriately humorous smileys.
And, it isn't as if i've never been friendzoned before. I have. Quite a few times actually. In fact, a friend of mine once called me 'Mr. Friendzone', and proclaimed that if God ever chose to make a guy with all required qualities needed for a guy to be friendzoned, he just had to take me and throw out my sarcastic and anarchic tendencies. My experience with the matter is so high, that i saw all the telltale signs of a potential friendzone situation about to happen, before i even wrote my letter of confession. In many ways, i was already preparing myself to follow the same routine i had followed in the past, when a girl i might have liked took a needle to the balloon of romantic possibilities, before i sent you the letter. The only thing that surprised me at the end of the whole debacle, was that you could so nicely and genuinely ask me to continue being friends, despite having all the justification in the world to cut me off and label me as a neurotic stalker freak.

And so, by the time a week had passed, i believed we were well on our way to establishing a totally platonic relationship. And, to seal the deal, i started opening myself, or rather, forcing myself to look for other prospects to occupy my time. This isn't meant to sound anywhere near being Casanovic (Ooh look at that!! I made a new word!! Lets call it blog author's license. Casanovic - Having Casanova-like tendencies), because with all sense of self-respect, uh, i'm not, will not, and, for all sense and purpose, CAN NOT be a Casanova, even if i tried. Rather, anything and everything that could fill up my time, hobbies, entertainment, even work/studies, i gobbled up as much as possible. I even started engaging in conversation with people i hadn't or wasn't able to give much time or thought to before.

It was around then that i started talking to a particular girl, with whom i had had the pleasure of meeting once, very fleetingly, in Aizawl. She had become acquainted with my mother and brothers during a brief stay in Chennai while i was keeping my father company in Aizawl. We contacted each other through Facebook and built up a nice rapport. She was cute, very impulsive and was very nice to engage conversation with. She, like me, had a flair for searing sarcasm and acerbic satire. At some level, there may even be a mutual attraction. This rapport shifted seamlessly from digital conversation to auditory conversation and we started talking about relationship related topics. She sardonically offered to set me up with one of her friends and we even engaged in a bit of playful, innocent mock-flirting.

But then it happened. Fully aware i was just kidding around with her, and i'm sure she was too, i suddenly stopped the flow of conversation and, for no particular reason, told her that it wasn't possible for me to date anyone at the moment. Her curiosity aroused, and my tongue already set loose by our warm-up conversations, i went into a 5-minute long unscripted, unprovoked, unprepared explanation of my personal code of ethics when it comes to relationships, and how i was very awkward at focusing on more than one person at a time, especially when my feelings for the other person was muddling up my every other thought.

ESPECIALLY WHEN MY FEELINGS FOR THE OTHER PERSON WAS MUDDLING UP MY EVERY OTHER THOUGHT.

Funny how those moments of self realisation can creep up on you when you least expect them to.
It was like a stamp on to my consciousness from the sub-consciousness.

For Some Reason
For Some Unknown Reason
For Some Unknown Possibly Bizarre Reason
You were not being forgotten
You were not being marginalized in my thoughts
You were/are different than the others  i have ever had to go through the situation with.
(Cue - The Rasmus' Not Like the Other Girls in the background)

It doesn't even make sense that you are, for the same exact reasons it didn't make sense that i had started obsessing so much with you in the first place. We never met enough times to establish a physical (And i don't mean in a sexual way) connection. The few times we actually did meet, were probably the furthest thing from romantic interludes that two people can have while still forging a bond of some sort. You aren't, in the classic sense of the word, the most 'beautiful', 'pretty' or 'sexy' crush i have ever had (though this has NEVER been a criteria for my feelings towards women, the only reason i even mention these qualities is because i'm trying to find an equitably shallow reason for having a shallow crush). I don't know nearly enough about your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your quirks and qualities to proclaim a 'deep' and 'introspective' connection with your personality.

It doesn't make sense that i always imagine your stuttering laugh as you read a good joke, more so when its one of mine.
It doesn't make sense that i always imagine your eyes looking back up at me like you did when you were walking down the stairs before me when we went out the one time,
It doesn't make sense that i always think about you randomly being an airhead, and how i would love to be there when you run into a wall, and how i would rub your head and ask if you were alright with a wide smile on my face.
It doesn't make sense that i imagine how uncomplicated being in a relationship with you would be for both you and me, how nothing would need to change in how comfortable we were with each other before and after being in the relationship.
It doesn't make sense that i imagine all those sneaky, romantic tricks and surprises that i would be able to pull on you and how you would love them.
It doesn't make sense that i secretly believe that i could carry all your burdens and problems and would love to be the first person there for you if you ever needed somebody.
It doesn't make sense that i secretly hope that you would be able to deal with all my bullshit and be the person that i need, my muse, my cornerstone.
It doesn't make sense that i wonder how a first kiss would be, not to mention the 100th. Of course, it plays out perfectly in the theatre stage of my mind.
It doesn't make sense that i wonder how walking with you would be like, would we hold hands? Would we have that aura of warmth that all couples who are infected with the amphora of love seem to have as they stay within inches of each other, no physical contact needed to convey the security of having the person you love right next to you.

It doesn't make sense, even though it makes perfect sense. Even though i know, this is how crushes are supposed to be. Even though i know, that this is all me making stuff up in my head. Even though i know, that all i'm doing is writing an imaginary romance novel in my head, and not a good one at that either.
It doesn't make sense, with all my previous experiences and stoneheaded nature that i can fall into this trap one more time.
It doesn't make sense, with my brooding nature, my defeatist outlook and nihilistic tendencies, that i would still be so persistent with this flame, this flicker of a possible mutual emotional connection.

Is it that i have become more shallow as my teenage youth slips further away when it comes to matters of the heart? More easily susceptible to falling deeper into the pit of prospective love? More impulsive and stubborn than ever?

Whatever the reason, No matter how pathetic and hopeless it makes me look and whatever step i take from here on in, No matter how embarrassing this might/will be to remember and read again in the future, the fact of the matter is this. That, right now, without a shadow of a doubt, I, the sarcastic, cynical, anarchic me,

I AM SO NOT OVER YOU!!

Rules of Engagement (Work in Progress)

This is NOT a how-to guidebook!!
I do not proclaim to be a person well versed in the art of starting, maintaining or even breaking up a relationship and i do not profess that these rules are the be all, end all of all Date related rules.
But these are the basic rules i personally believe in and try my best to adhere to when it comes to Dating and all that is related to them.

Note :- For archiving purposes mainly and is put up more for personal reasons rather than a public manifesto.

APPROACHING SOMEONE/ASKING SOMEONE OUT ON A DATE :-

1. This should NEVER happen if you're in a relationship or even in a semi-relationship, ie, even if you are not talking to each other, as long as the relationship ties are not broken.
2. Make sure the other person is not in a relationship or in a semi-relationship. You can never be 100% sure, but make sure you cover all possible bases before you make a push.
3. No matter how much you think you've fallen in love with her or are attracted to her, ALWAYS ask her out on a date before all else. Firstly, 99% of the time its just a crush, not love, and Secondly, if its truly worth it, better to start it off right.
4. If she rejects your Date proposal, take it like a man and don't push it much. Take at least a week off to cool down and re-assess things and if you still can't stop thinking about her, tell her about your dilemma. If she's willing to go out the second time around, good for you. If not, then back away, for both your sakes.
5. If the girl happens to be directly related to one of your friends, notify the friend for sure, either before you approach the girl, or at least right after you have approached the girl. Do NOT try to hide it, and do NOT try to delay it.
6. If the girl happens to be directly/indirectly connected to an ex-girlfriend or flame, inform her after you've tried approaching her. unless you have been specifically asked by the girl not to inform the ex, and that too for a legitimate reason.

GOING OUT ON DATES :-

1. The First Date should be a hands off affair whose purpose is to test the waters, and verify your feelings for each other, NOT a kop-a-feel-first-chance-you-get debacle.
2. The venue must be a place where both of you will be comfortable preferably, and if that cannot be arranged, her comfort must be given importance.
3. If possible, PAY for at LEAST the food and most amenities on the first date.
4. Picking her up is preferable, but Dropping her back is ESSENTIAL, unless a major catastrophe takes place. This counts whether the date was a success or not.
5. Pay can be shared from 2nd/3rd Date Onwards.

Blessed Curse

  For me, to Fall in Love with Someone would mean to achieve a state of being, where your heart and soul are devoted, at least partially, to a person of the other sex (in my case, female) due to various factors, physical and mental attraction being two of the foremost of them and which goes beyond just an initial surge of hormones and curiosity, and that is most genuinely tested by time and perseverance. To Fall in Love with Someone doesn't always lead to the opportunity to love that someone, much less to BE loved back by that someone.

  It is a Blessing that i can say that i have experienced Falling in Love, Being Loved and Having been Loved. It is also My Curse to say those same exact things.

  To those who underrate the power of the emotion of Love, to those who scoff at the notion of Romance, believe you me, when you fall into it, there is no pit deeper, no mountain higher, no cliff steeper than the chasm you will feel open inside of you. A tornado of feelings that swirl around you as you sit in the middle of the eye of the storm, the wind filled with cheesy cliches, emphatic achievements and unforgettable moments. You will be driven to perform feats you only ever dreamt of doing, you will be pushed to perform actions that challenge everything you ever thought you knew about yourself and you will be both stronger and more vulnerable than you have ever been.

  When you achieve that Nirvanic moment when all three come together, you enter a period of Bliss where everything you thought that was right about the world will seem to just show up on your doorstep, and every small event that involves you and your partner will be given an added touch of Destiny. Every action you do, every commitment you make and every resolution you adhere to will all turn out perfectly how you want them to. Every movement your partner makes, every moment you spend together will be Perfect. You will understand each other completely, you will learn more and more amazing things about them and when you're with them, you will feel that you are the closest to being perfect than you have ever been or ever will be. Dreams will be shared, Objectives will be re-assessed and Schedules will be combined. Even when you're not with them, you will think about them, and how everything around you seems to have some quality that reminds you of them.

  The feelings, emotions, events and moments you will go through during this period are completely original, unique and irreplaceable. In short, you will never have the same experience more than once. Similar maybe, but never the same.

  And as i have experienced all these things, i have been cursed that i will forever remember these things even as life mundanely starts over again, day by day, moment after moment. Even after that someone has left or been left, even after your separation has been finalised with conviction and stamped down by the spectre of distance. Even after hate starts entering life, along with cynicism and negativity, nothing will ever truly compare to the rush that is had when you are in Love. How will i deal with it? Will i shut myself off from the world, resigned to the fact that i shall never replace those feelings again? Will i pursue it in other avenues, desperately seeking that elusive ambrosia. forgetting everything else along the way? I don't know yet, I'm still seeking it out....