The life cycle of possibilities.

When you're small everything is possible. And then you start to learn. You start getting conditioned by things and people around you. This knowingly or unknowingly starts narrowing down your perceptions and imagination. And before you know it, a slipper stops being a phone and the round box of cookies stops being a steering wheel.

Next you enter a stage of life where your ambition in life can change from footballer to army office after watching one movie. Your imagination is still rife and you start making boats out of paper, buildings out of lego blocks and castles in the air.

Then comes the age of dreaming big and trying to achieve it all. The age when young blood drives you to achieve a lot more. You start exploring ways to build the edifice for some castles in the air you had been dreaming of, if not all. And before you know it, you're in a hurry to make the most of whatever you have.

This slowly makes way to a phase where possibilities take a back seat and certainties start dictating one's life. EMIs, relationships, a steady life or as it is called, settling down. At this stage one aims more at retaining what one has rather than going for more. Then slowly naivety makes way for a well earned cynicism. And it all ends with the most certain reality of life - death.

Hence, it comes as no surprise that a creative person must be child-like. He/she must be able to see possibilities. A creative person hardly creates. He connects random dots, brings together unconnected thoughts and sees more reasons, implications and possible meanings to a given situation or thought. And above all else, he sees humour, hope and happiness.

So you should always try to look for possibilities when you can and make the most of them. Because once you grow old you stop seeing possibilities. Or is it the other way around?

55 word stories

I just realised that I have no post from this year on my blog. And turns out I have nothing to write about as of now. so instead here's a collection of 55 word stories I have contributed to http://55words.blogspot.in/ A big thanks to Vivek Tejuja to come up with the engaging blog for lazy writers like me.

Fear
Her husband treated her like dirt; only worse. Her ex-boyfriend could not see her plight; he was falling for her again. He asked her to come along and start afresh. She would never agree though she knew his feelings were true. The idea of freedom suffocated her. In fear she sought refuge

Zoo
Little Chintoo had heard a lot about the zoo and would do anything to catch a glimpse of it. In parks, on the roads, everywhere, he would just hear people talk about the Zoo. If only his mother would let him pay a visit. At every mention, she would scold him and say "They run the country in the Zoo. We dogs have no job there."

Airport
The beer was extra chilled and the ice was instantly broken. Ashish and Megha met at the airport bar and hit off instantly. The delayed kingfisher flights had landed them an unintended date. A good 5 hours later they had to part ways. They kissed goodbye as she winked and asked “Your city or mine?”

Relationships
They were in love once. But on that day, they ended it for once and for all. His mind was flooded with memories and thoughts as he drove to work after signing divorce papers. Dazed and lost, he stood outside his office staring aimlessly at his name board. It read “Bilal Mushtaq - Marriage Counsellor”

Boredom
Raju got up from his chair. He took slow strides as he walked towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge and gulped down some chilled water. He then walked back to his chair and sat. In another five minutes or so, he would pay another visit to the loo.

Alcohol
Mosquito 1: Let’s enter the house from the southern entrance. That’s the farthest from the mosquito repellant.

Mosquito 2:  Sounds good.

after 2 minutes of searching
Mosquito 1: Look what I just found? An arm!
Mosquito 2: Go slow. Don’t wake him up.
Mosuito 1: but...I...zzzz… (falls in a peg of whiskey)

Magic

He fell from the sky and landed next to a fully grown immature imbecile with six fingers. He was blue in colour, had three fingers and would keep screaming ‘sunlight’ in an irritable monotonic voice. The six fingered imbecile and his friends were awe-struck by his tricks. They named him… What was today’s topic again?

Fight
He was a born fighter, but he found himself helpless then. He would always give his best shot, only to fall prey again. On that fateful day, he decided to give it his everything. He picked himself up, dusted himself off and finally quit. Today it’s been 2 years since he overcame his cigarette addiction. 

Distant
They met in college. Their paths crossed. Soon they were on the same path. Some way down the road, things however changed. His insensitivity, her ego surfaced. They then grew apart. Now it’s been 7 years and they’re indifferent to each other. They’re on parallel paths, equidistant at every point - never closer, never farther. 

Fairy Tales
“He made his way past puddles and honking cars” the grandmother read out to little Diana. She continued “And finally, he reached the railway station where he would catch his train home.” Little Diana was bored of the Fairy Tale. She stepped out of her house and slid down a beanstalk.

Mystery
Suresh lay dead in a pool of pepsi. Besides him was an open book and a packet of chips. There were rope marks on his neck but no rope around. The windows were shut and there seemed to be no chance for anyone to have entered the room. Well, go ahead. Solve it yourself.

Monday
The whole world was going berserk with the start of another week. Everyone was ranting and tweeting about yet another manic Monday. But he sat in his jail cell unperturbed. For him Monday just meant a different Biryani.

Words
I sat deciding what to write and how. I then wrote on, but still felt something wrong. I changed the story, changed the characters, and changed the entire plot. Yet as I concluded, the word limit was crossed. I again edited, revised and reworked. I had finally completed my first story, exactly of 55 words.

Scream
She hated living with a drunkard male chauvinist. Alas! She had no choice. To channelize her frustration, she would occasionally scream into a jar. One day he came home drunk again. He took out his belt to hit her. As he lashed out the belt, its tip hit the jar and broke it.

Di Wa Lee

The evil Ra Wang joined his fist to palm and muttered ‘I bow to thee master. You are God lee!’ as he took his last breath lying outside his fort at Liangzhou. His 9 other heads looked on in confusion until all his 20 eyes shut for good. Lord Rang smiled with a glimmer of divine forgiveness in his eyes. His ‘arm of god’ move had done the trick, killing the demon who had kidnapped his wife.

He then handed over the kingdom to V.B.Chang, the younger brother of Ra Wang and headed back to his kingdom at Anyang in Northern China. Lord Rang was going home after serving a penance of 14 years of exile. During course of which, he along with his brother Lax Ming and wife Xi Ta toured innumerable jungles of southern China, lived a life of abstinence and sucker punched innumerable monsters. 

When the news of Lord Rang’s return reached home at Anyang, celebrations were in the air. And so were fireworks. The scent of gunpowder and incense filled the air as households brewed lavish feasts with generous amounts of Ajinomoto. The streets were adorned with Chinese lamps of all shapes and sizes. From little spherical red lamps to gigantic Dragon shaped lanterns, the city was a staggering display of lamps and light. Children and elders alike, gathered and chanted Di wa lee, we’re happy our king has returned. 

The festival would go on to be known as Diwali, the festival of lights. And till this date, Chinese fireworks fill the skies, Chinese lamps fill streets and Chinese flickering lights twinkle at homes, even in India. To be more specific, especially in India. The only thing, left Indian about Diwali was the legend around it. So I thought of doing the honours. Now let’s take it all the way by exchanging boxes of chicken Manchurian and wishing each other Di wa lee!

What's on your mind, what's happening, etc.

Social media has very often been projected in many ways. But here, the point I’m trying to make is how social media actually makes us altruistic.  And no, I’m not talking about those pictures you can share to save an elephant’s life or that like button you can hit to kick a corrupt police officer. I am talking about how social media has made every event and moment in our lives worth sharing.

When you see a beautiful landscape, you no more sit back and enjoy it as the selfish you in the pre-social media era would. Instead you incessantly click pictures to show the world how beautiful the scenery is. Such is our unselfishness that we don’t just show them one or two pictures but 700 pictures of the same place. And we don’t stop at places. We know the sufferings of those who can’t enjoy the same delicacies as us, so we instagram their pictures, add a filter and click pictures of coffee to help them overcome the boredom inflicted by 700 pictures of the same place.

We are so inclusive even in our celebrations that when the football team we support scores, we don’t just selfishly celebrate at home, we celebrate with the world by tweeting “YESSS!!!“  or putting up a facebook status like ‘What a goal!!!’ Or even better, we like or comment on such statuses to join the party. We are now in an era where we like things we used to merely acknowledge before. That’s how concerned we are about other’s feelings.

Some people take benevolence to another level altogether by helping their toddlers and pets express themselves and share their experiences (or what is believed to be their experiences) through specially opened accounts for them. The other day a friend’s 2 year old son replied to one of my tweets. The kid has grown so fast! Now if only, my friend would.

Our compassion breaks all boundaries and touches an all new high when we even acknowledge the needs of stalkers. While walking into a restaurant, we just don’t walk in. We put up updates on Foursquare as a noble gesture. Because we understand that stalkers too, have feelings.

Inclusiveness is the key in today’s world. Meeting one person does not make us forget the rest of the world. We continue chatting with the rest of the world on our smartphones after greeting that person. Our lives are not just our lives, they are several parallel Big Boss/Big Brother shows that play non-stop on computer and smart phone screens across the globe. And it is our duty to do everything possible to keep it entertaining and fun as a service to mankind.

Now that I’m done with penning down my personal views, I will go ahead and do a selfless act of shouting about it on all possible social media. Thanks for reading. Please join the selflessness by sharing.

Me

Since when did I turn a deaf year to the tides.
Since when did Sunset become a stranger.
I don’t remember our last conversation.
But since when did I stop talking to me?

Was I running behind dreams
or fighting my insecurities?
Either way, I was stuck in a vicious circle.
But why did I turn a deaf ear to me?

Friends became facebook profiles
and numbers I never dialled.
I have no complaints, I was always a loner.
But I wonder when I ‘unfriended’ me.

Lethal agreement

Srijith hereafter referred to as 'I' or 'me' as the case may be, is as of now and or ticked off by the overusage of words in or and legal documentation and hereby expresses dismay at the verbose and loquacious agreements (with additional clauses in brackets to accentuate the complexity) and is pissed off at the usage of in and or instead of punctuation marks to lengthen sentences with no reason whatsoever and herewith agrees not to agree to anything hereto.

Further, I admits that he, time to time, is in complete awe and admiration of the art of documenting clauses that lis pendens if and of complicate and make redundant, sentences and trap one in a verbal labyrinth hereof therefore causing the Reader to hereby forget the beginning of the sentence as and of s/he reaches the end of the clause herewith.

Me solemnly agrees that any unencumbered lis pendens herewith is unencumbered. It is further agreed upon that despite the innumerable inexplicable clauses mentioned herewith and the extent of valuable time conspicuously consumed in vain whilst reading and or writing the above, anything and or everything aforementioned remains subject to change.

An unconscious effort

Have you ever wondered how stories help kids sleep? Even ones that make no sense, whatsoever. Sometimes you can make up stories and watch them sleep away happily. The funny part however, is that we continue doing it even once we grow; at least I do. Perhaps we don't get someone else to read out stories or don't even read them ourselves. We just form pictures in our head that follow to form a story, again one that makes no sense whatsoever. And then in due course of time, we'd be snoring our way to glory.

Recently I was trying to draw such pictures in my mind and in turn doze off. I was dead tired that day as I had been travelling the whole day. Surprisingly, I found that it was easier for me to imagine a picture when I was physically and mentally drained as compared to several earlier occasions where I had failed. What caught my attention was the fact that it was actually easier to imagine pictures when the mind and body were tired.

It got me thinking about how conscience actually hampers our imagination. We all experience that its easier to come up with more creative thoughts and better jokes when we're with our best of friends and not in front of say, bosses. Isn't that because we're less 'conscious'? Isn't it precisely why kids come up with the most creative thoughts. In fact the most creative of people are those who remain child-like despite showing the world they've grown up. We all have sensed our brains thinks wilder when intoxicated. It's rather fascinating how a tired brain seems to work more than an alert one.

I found one probable answer in Aldous Huxley's essay, the doors of perception. It states-
In one of his studies eminent Cambridge philosopher, Dr. C.D. Broad states "The function of the brain and nervous system and sense organs is in the main eliminative and not productive. The function of the brain and nervous system is to protect us from being overwhelmed and confused by this mass of largely useless and irrelevant knowledge, by shutting out most of what we should otherwise perceive or remember at any moment, and leaving only that very small and special selection which is likely to be practically useful."Quite a revelation. Isn't it.

That might answer why the less conscious brain opens up more to imagination. But having said that, how do we channelise our thoughts and remember or note them, if not through a conscious mind? Well, there goes yet another confusion of a restless mind.