A brief and simple excuse

Brevity and Simplicity - two qualities that I have come to admire very much in everything that I try to do these days, and in every walk of my own complex life. So much so that these two are the best reasons I can ever give for any of my shortcomings in the once-profound capacity for writing I used to love about myself (or so I console my alter-ego to whom writing meant everything!). There! A brief and simple excuse for a long and complex shortcoming!

A few words

Whenever I think of getting to the writing page just for the sake of writing something and keep the flow going, it ends up being a more difficult task than concentrating on a thought that needs to be written in a better shape, or an opinion that is personal. Finally, I end up writing nothing at all, and later ponder on the blank page that could have had a life. That is how this space has taken shape in the last few years. I need to overcome my ADD as it applies to my writing. It's like a runner in a lull, with signs of a pot belly, tired legs, and a loose unathletic frame. It is unacceptable. A person like that defies the nature and purpose of his/her self. I had to bring the runner's analogy here, because that is both contextually and literally relevant.

I started the year with five simple goals, achievable at ease. I'm sticking on to two of them, and trying to bring back the third to life after it started sleeping in February. It's quite an improvement compared to prior years when I would've had ten ambitious resolutions, and asked in February 'what resolutions'! As it turns out, I'm becoming a man of few words and fewer actions! As soon as I wrote the last piece, I started on this one purposefully to see if I can kick back to life one of the unfollowed three goals so far. So, there goes.

Speaking of the five goals, running is one that's fortunately continuing! Touchwood!

Another short babble!

Rare. Isolated. November.

The reader in me nowadays pops his head up 'once in a super-blue-blood-moon' from what was 'once in a blue moon'. That's becoming quite an achievement. Nothing I have read over the years sticks in my brain, neither are the stuff I'm struggling to read these days. Soon, it'll be a rarity and a success if I read one good meaningful book a year. Bah! But in this comatose state, somewhere in a nook or a corner of my brain, there are a few passages, quotes, words of wisdom that manage to reverberate. Those are from the early years of reading, time when Nietzsche, Russell, Seneca were all gold to my eyes. Aside from the interesting fact that he ended up as one of the most important thinkers of 19th century for the kind of person he was, Nietzsche has been a treasure trove in the selective areas I have reached out to him for. (Now it's baffling to me that I read Nietzsche and Seneca simultaneously, that the former was all joy and pain and celebration and derogation and what-not of life, while the latter was all stoic. Seems I read just about anything fancy, like a dog keeping its mouth on everything (translate to Tamil with the right tone and you get what I'm talking about! Ha ha!)

In the wake of a long-drawn rainy day, last night was a string of incoherent moments. Two days of fever was letting go of its grip on me, the doctor's medication was doing its job. Still, for a decently strong dose, I couldn't sleep. I thought Ludovico Einaudi's 'Divenire', which has been a great peace-bringer to me on many occasions, would help calm my mind that was wavering among a million things. Lying on my back, looking up at the sky through my mind's eye, my fingers tried to imitate his movements on the piano, and the orchestra's on the violin. It felt real, so real that I could have actually been playing Divenire, Rose, Primavera, and all the other jewels of music in the album. Music is indeed so powerful if it sinks into your mind! Divenire was finished and yet sleep didn't come over me. It had been an entire hour of starting at the ceiling and playing piano and violin in the air! Oops. It was time for 'I Giorni'. That was finished too. Another hour. Oops again! But in those two hours, besides the piano and violin, Nietzsche's "hour hand of life" kept flashing in my mind repeatedly. 

Life consists of rare, isolated moments of the greatest significance, and of innumerably many intervals during which at best the silhouettes of those moments hover about us. Love, springtime, every beautiful melody, mountains, the moon, the sea - all these speak completely to the heart but once, if in fact they ever do get a chance to speak completely. For many men do not have those moments at all, and are themselves intervals and intermissions in the symphony of real life

Reading it for the first time so many years ago made a huge impact on me because of the profundity with which he laid out a truth - that how many of us end up being intervals and intermissions. It was something that stuck to me instantly and has never left me since. Yes, he was certainly wrong about 'speaking completely to the heart but once' part. Of course, they all do speak to us all the time. It's only that we have become so distracted and digressed in today's age that listening to them truly, even once, becomes a great deal. It's only that we have stopped listening to mother nature. But what a run I've had with all those moments of greatest significance - no dearth of love, springtime, melodies, mountains, moon, the sea. What more am I to be thankful for?

Beep! Midnight. November. 35 is just around the corner. The shock pushed me instantly into sleep. Goodnight.

The great and the invincible

Every time a man realizes his mistake, and people forgive him for that and take him in again, he becomes great by way of imparting his knowledge to them of how not to commit that mistake again. His experience is their teacher, and in that, he becomes their teacher! But, every time a man realizes his mistake, and people don't forgive him for that nor take him in again, and still he goes about imparting that knowledge to the very unforgiving lot, he becomes invincible. For, in the former, his greatness is a result of the debt paid more than full to the others' forgiveness, but in the latter, his invincibility is a result of a debt that does not exist but is still paid to even the unforgiving.

Now, isn't that a justification good enough to keep committing new mistakes?!

How I ran my 100DaysofRunning

The first thing I need to do to keep this place alive is to stop planning and committing to write. 'Will come back for more', or 'watch out' have not helped. Not to mention the latest - which is now a year ago! - coming back with more on my running journal. Not surprisingly I still have not done my first full marathon. I won't be doing it this year. And personally, that's a disappointment for having boasted quite a bit about my running. I procrastinated hard training till the thought of hard training faded away! So much for bragging that I'm a runner.

That said, 2017 has indeed been better than 2016. And 100DaysofRunning is definitely the main reason. It's no big feat by any measure, still, for once I would like to take pride in what I accomplished. For it revealed not how much I can take, but how I can take it, and keep testing my limits. How much is nothing. 5 kms a day, on average, for 100 days in the runners' world would probably not be that much different from 'hey, I've got a job in IT' 20 years after the industry has come about, and especially after it's past its heydays! (Occupational hazard, you see!). That's all there is to the how much really. But the how was definitely more interesting and revealing than I had anticipated. For, the moment I push towards how much, the mind competes with just about anybody I can think of. But when it comes to the how, it competes with just who I was till then. At least, that is how I want to take everything. I would like to live as if I have no competitors except myself, want to be better than the man I was yesterday. And running does help in its own way, help change my life, help change one small perception or motivate to do one small positive thing at a time.

So, here goes the mildly adventurous story of an amateur runner's 100DaysofRunning:

The first 10 days were easy because of the adrenaline of having gotten started and counting the initial excitement in days. The next 10 were again easy because I did the first ten without a break. At this point, I was also at the 100 kms mark. Then, as it is a common belief that anything you do continuously for roughly 20 days becomes a habit, the next few days, till the 50th day, were more or less routine. I mostly struck the run off as a daily chore. The days when I missed the mornings, I ran in the night. Some days, I missed the planned night runs also, thus scrambling at around 11.30 PM or so, to run  the min 2 kms/day mandate. From 20 to 50, the daily kms started trickling down, but a couple of professional half-marathons helped fill the gap in the average. Actually, I took the liberty of cutting down on the 5km/day just because of this. (And that definitely would figure in as a disappointment to a true runner to whom consistency is everything!). But you have to listen to your body. Some days it just cannot move, and it will not. Those were the days of just meeting the minimum mandate of 2 kms/day. And thus went the first 50 days. The 50th day was, as expected, a psychological barrier, for I was literally at the 'half done' point of a job well begun.

The days from 60-80 were the most challenging. By then, the routine was fully set, a habit was more or less in place, and the 'motivation thrust' had completely died down. So why would I run? To make matters worse, my body just wouldn't budge. Those were the days of intense pain. Some days, my legs would just keep trembling for hours at a stretch. I still ran. I just ran. In fact, I ran with the 80th day as the finish line in mind, for I knew the last 20 days would again be a period of intense anticipation and excitement to get to the finish. It's like the last couple of miles to the finish line in a half marathon, where one would forget the 18 kms already done, but run these 2 kms as if one were chased by a pack of ravenous wolves. At least, that's how I have run all my finishing miles in every half marathon till date.

Come 80. It's just amazing how the mind can rewire and the heart refresh when the finish line is in sight. It's like coming a full circle. The mind has its own way of teaching patience, not to hurry or be overambitious to do 10 kms every remaining day. Stick to the basics. It's not a race. By this time I had built more than the target average of 5km/day. All I had to do was just keep to the minimum of 2km/day and I would make it past 500. Thus, 80-100 was a breeze.  I wrapped up the 100 days with 511 kms. So, there!

On the 100th day, I felt a mild sense of satisfaction and pride on how I had come to finish it. More than that, I felt peaceful. And peace was what I was after, because these 100 days happened right after a crisis. In fact, I wanted these 100 days to help me stabilize my mind and heart, to help me beat the crisis. Anger and rage were getting the best of me, and I HAD to run to keep the anger away, to beat it to pulp. Some days, I ran longer, proportionate to the intensity of anger I felt, to the point that on a few occasions, sheer exhaustion would beat the anger. I ran. And thus passed the 100 days.

I heartily thanked Mother Nature, the God Almighty, for taking me through all this. For, many days it would have been impossible to move if I had not felt the invisible hand that woke me up from bed, that patted on my shoulders to simmer my anger and put the shoes on, that lifted me up in the middle of the road, that high-five'd when I finished running on some testing days, or stood at the finish line on two of the professional half-marathons during the course of the 100 days. It was all worth it. It was worth every one of the 100 days.

All of this points to the simplest of truths when it concerns both the body and the mind. No pain, no gain. I took a long break, for more than a month, and now I'm back on the road again. So, here's to more running! (Oops. I shouldn't say that, rite?)

Voices

For all the voices we hear around us all the time, the trouble is not so much as to decide whether to speak for or against, but, often, to decide whether to really hear the voices or pretend not to and keep quiet, the latter choice preferable more often than not. Sometimes, shutting up is a lot better than speaking up! 

Here I come, 30!

There are many cliches on age, but two stand out - 'Age - it's just a number' and 'We're always the same age inside'. Funny we get to take these (and all other cliche's) either so casually or so seriously that, on either side, there are deeper thoughts we miss to see in such apparent cliches! Since these cannot be generalized and one has to look for them oneself, I'm not stretching the point any more on what they ought to be. But here are mine. I'm no stranger to cliches myself. I have both given and taken tonnes of those. And this time too I can't help giving myself quite a strong dose of some cliches. Let's stick with a few on life that tie back to age.

Life has been good. Life has been gracious. Mother Nature has been patient and forgiving and merciful. As time has gone by, I now see another probable wind of change in the horizon for me. As much as I'd like myself to be grounded firmly on a few driving principles of my good and gracious life - stoicism, gratitude, contentment to name a few - there always come moments that tempt me to bend a bit here and there, and wish for things to be such and such, and want things to happen. Ah, if only controlling desires were that easy. And now how I wish the probable wind to turn real! And so, as I keep wishing and not-wishing, I wonder what I have done with that good and gracious life that has happened to me, if not something that I shaped here and there, least of all something that is 'chiseled by my own hands'! (ah, here's another cliche!). Well, I'm not a self-made man!

There's not a better 'circumstantially appropriate' time to look back on one's life than one's birthday. With my 30th a couple of days away, I'm doing the 'looking back' and wondering what have I done to call my life my life? What have I worked out on all the 29 years of existence (maybe the last two or three consciously living and not existing**, after crossing the chasm of identity crisis. Finally, I think I'm getting to existentialism!) to call something an achievement by my own standards? 

Education? Yes. 

Job? Yes. 

Meaningful work? 'Meaningful in what sense' is something that is still on the works! Let's stick with maybe

Societal belonging (outside of family & best friends)? Questionable, bordering on a No. Damn the society!

Love? Hell Yes, both loving and being loved, (although I guess I'm poor at the former compared to the latter!) 

Friendship? Yes, some exemplary. 

Philosophy? Maybe. Getting there!

Passion? Well.. maybe one or two. A few years ago, this would've been a resounding Yes. Now I'm wondering what my passion is! Sometimes I think I know (the probable wind of change may be one, should it turn real. Let's see), and at other times I wonder what they are. So, let's stick with maybe. 

There it is. A smorgasbord of  Yes-No-Maybe that captures my 29 years in 10 lines! Funny that some vital ones are Maybe's bordering on No's. Danger signs!

30 is a psychologically important time for me (don't ask why). I have a meaningful wish this time to firm up some of the above, starting now. I need more 'Yes'es. Here I come, 30!

** - Ok I promise I won't bring the existing vs. living conundrum again. This is the last time. Henceforth I swear to use existing interchangeably with living, so as to clear the air around my existential angst on surviving vs. living. Deal!)

On the continuum of 'Pathos'

Of all the feelings capable of being aroused in me, those of pathos form the perfect continuum. Pathos is a quality/experience that arouses mainly four different types of feelings. The continuum that I have identified looks something like this.


The three interesting discoveries, if I may call them that, in this continuum are:

1. The intensity of the movement of the feeling from its strongest to weakest state is directly proportional to the number of people it is aimed at. I empathize with my brother or a friend, and I carry with me the strength/burden of one feeling in two hearts. I sympathize with a set of people, say, destitute of basic physical & safety needs or devoid of social needs, and there I understand the heavy air of despair of that particular lot. I'm antipathetic to a social structure  that is dogmatic, trembling with chaos and on the brink of self-destruction. There I enjoy the company of very few men who think right but are largely antagonistic to that wretched society. (Simply put, we are the outlaws of an outlandishly outrageous system). And finally, I'm apathetic to a materialistic, insensible, incorrigible and unjust social system. And there I revel in my solitude while shunning everything & everyone else 
2. Empathy is one of the greatest virtues, of which most men are incapable. But the ones who are capable of gifting this to another soul will never stop feeling (and finding) themselves gifted.
3. Apathy is a weapon of immeasurable destructive power. The one who has used it will never be able to take it back and will find himself alone, with nothing but a curse of loneliness all around the destruction he causes. (if you read pt 1 now, you'll think 'revel' is probably not the right word to use there. But some of us do revel in solitude and not be cursed by loneliness, when we know how to use apathy in a just manner and not be left alone. We are like the water drops on a lotus leaf. We are one with the system and yet untouched, and we do cleanse the system now and then by just being there!We know how to be part of that social system and still make the right choices where we can!).

Rajaji

The philanthropist

I could put up with the uber-rich that does not donate a bit, and I do not know what to say about the destitute who shares his meager begged-out meal with another destitute. But I can never put up with the philanthropist who donates to the poor with an intent of getting a tax break out of it! And somehow, there is a solid system in place which actively promotes this!

Crowds

Irrational crowds annoy me. I would put up with any other kind. But the question is (to quote the legendary Col. Jessep) : is there another kind?

A resolution to change?

Ok. I get it. I think I need to change. As in, not change myself altogether, but change a part of me that could well do away with the seriousness. I myself think I should stop being so serious... serious about everything, serious about nothing (does that still count as being serious?); serious about life and about the million little things that shape my life; serious about my fucking philosophy (did I get the phrase right?), and above all, seriously avoid the serious, thoughtful, composed look I wear on my face all the time. Ok, I will change that look, but I won't use fairness cream to change the way I look. I don't care how I look to others, I only care how I feel about myself. Oops, I got serious!

Coming to the main point of this post: I don't like the resolution crap. Every new year, someone or the other definitely asks 'what is your resolution this year?'. If you don't know me and ask me 'what is your resolution', let me tell you something. It's crap. It's nonsense. Agreed, resolutions are about right things, things we think are essential/good to make oneself better. But, just as it is said that 'There's a never wrong time to do the right thing', there is never a right time to do the right thing either. There is just 'enough time' or 'not enough time'. It is illogical that one has to wait for the right time to do something, one just has time or does not have time. Mind you, this is applicable only for the right and reasonable things. Don't do anything wrong or stupid and then come back to me. It's not on me, got it?

Oops, I got serious again! Well, I don't think I can stop being serious. Live with that too! Thanks.

Rajaji

Are you people serious?!

Considering that I would've seen many of these posts myself over and over again, let's say, 25-30% revisits, that's still well above 5000 views! And discounting another 50% for machine views, that's still close to 2500-3000 views! Well.. Bless you souls who have stopped by this space, all these years. And be blessed even more so.. those of you who took the time to comment and provide feedback.