pull my cart

life is a series of choices between adjectives or possessions. like having money is not the same as being wealthy.

damu was talking last night about how some people can look at a bottle cap and come up with a business plan to make money out of its ridges. they don’t want to make the money. they just know how to ideate and want to get better at the ideation. the money is a by-product.

the other way of living life is to want the money and enroll in an endeavor to make it, then learn the skills necessary. u just keep getting better at making money and the by-product is knowledge of things you don’t give a shit about. visually the cart is pulling the horse… or is it donkey.

i think the fuck up happened in childhood itself.

when i was very young. my parents gave me a set of ideals to be. honest. smart. intelligent.

then came the time when they told me what i should possess. an education. a job. a toolkit for success on the financial and social graphs.

the switch from being to having. it was so subtle. i would fix it around 4th standard. coz after that you are constantly being chiseled to have an SSC degree. an HSC. an engineering degree. a job. a promotion.

after rediscovering the shallowness of my blind indoctrinated and completely believing drift, but having done nothing about it, i figure that my salvation lies in going back to the old method of being.

jedi’s think-feel-be philosophy has taken on enhanced dimension.

unwinding

i finally let the sun set on chapter 2 in murud. didn’t see a single sunset along the way. from bangalore, kemmenagundi, gokarna, goa, murud, kashid, mumbai.

couldn’t unwind though. kept looking for things to do, or say, or make people do, or organize, or arrange. the tight-rope walk habit from the past 15 months has taken it’s toll. life is getting dangerously reliant on packing a to-do list, like a relentless trance beat that doesn’t let you stop when you don’t want to go on; and then the music stops and your feet keep moving and you look around bewildered. you are tired and wired. but you cannot stop.

gray hair apart, i wonder if it mattered. to the company. to them. to me.

PS: reggae is cool. finally.

bombay duck

must every time in Mumbai be an eye opener of sorts. J keeps saying cities are nerve centres of energy flow in the country. in a city like Bombay, the flux is such a kaleidoscopic miasma that you cannot help but resort to the sunglasses. at first brush of course. the play of power. i catch myself trying to prove that i am a nifty driver even if i am driving an 800cc to a 1.3L car driver. an unfamiliar feeling. the wanting to prove to someone else.

dropped by andheri seven bungalows and lokhandwala yday. time was when lokhandwala was centre stage and the fame adlabs complex the high star of the area. right now with the number of buildings and complexes and highrises, that supremacy has been nullified to a great extent. the city is also coated in quilted roads. rectangular concrete blocks and slabs patched with tar blobs again in a square shape, and the latest cobblestoned paving variety that makes the car feel diarrhoea rumbles.

the concrete disconnects the earth from the sky even more.

i roll up semi-tinted glasses and wear full tinted eye gear and groove to 140 bpm music and soak it all in. the energy is inevitable. time to dance.