Archive for August, 2010

Human Error ..

Posted: August 8, 2010 in Life so far!

I’m in a constant tussle with my mind. And the voices tell me (like they know it all) to wait for the moment when I’d wakeup of an alarm just to realize, all my life that I remember of, was only a part of a life-like dream and then I’d be stranded like a nomad, all woken up but still lost, who knows way too much to live at peace. I had already made my first enemy.
I wouldn’t deny their notions completely though, I did have an inkling about the seriousness of these voices once in a while – I mean, think of it .. Dressed in a nicely Ironed shirt and pair of faded denims, last week I board a flight to Goa. The thrill was over the limit. I took my seat, the not – so – popular middle one. I think that woman at the check in counter was giving the better seats only to the cute guys standing in queue. I could have ruined her fancies if that was true, but then in 2 hrs, I was about to breathe the air she probably didn’t get the leaves for.
While I scanned through the magazines, I see this guy right across my row, sitting on the aisle seat. He was wearing an off white shirt, with an expensive pen in his pocket; he looked like some Strategy Manager of some big detergent company. Neatly done but looked low on confidence. He is observing this airhostess so thoroughly while she enacts the whole emergency escape training (I mean come on, who does that!!).
Either he finds her too hot to get his eyes off her. Or he is genuinely trying to conceive what she means. You (Me talking to my voices) could be right, cuz then I’d be jealous of this guy, he knows more than I do and hence his chances of surviving an air-crash, are brighter than mine.
I am always thinking of Aircrashes when I’m boarding a flight. I peek out of the window and look for another plane floating right towards mine. The view is awesome, voices tell me :) !! and then I start building up my own escape routes. I’d be jealous of this guy sitting on the seat next to emergency exit – I always wanted to walk up to him and ask – did you pay extra for this one? I’m not too sure about that, but again, his chances of surviving the crash, like the other guy, were much higher.

That’s not it, there’s more when my voices reiterate my wocky belief – I work in an industry where your best friends are a sham. Brands, Advertising, Sales – It’s an endless self-defeating goose race. If you are not good, you suck. The catch is –there’s no definition of good. Or the way my boss says it, you are as good as your last deal.
You are stuck in a shithole system and the only way to get out is by swallowing chunks of crap.
To make it worse, the voices creep you out. They keep reminding you how pathetic you are, how your existence is only a reminder to your parents that to err is human.
That you are nothing but god’s unwanted children.

We don’t fight against anyone; we just love fighting to ourselves. We pity ourselves. We want things we don’t need. We talk of things we are told to. We are very pissed off.

We are not as good as they say we are. It’s a trap. They make you believe them so that they can shut you down one day. They call it getting ‘professionally high.’
Reminds me of a movie quote, “When you take away a man’s freedom and teach him to live in a cell, he seems to lose his ability to think in dimensions – he gets institutionalized”.

Sometimes I wonder if I was really born to fly or just living about the fact that it’s not the wings that will make one fly; it’s the will to fly that will.
In either case, I’m not flying, I’m just held captive by my own identity and my voices are having the last laugh. Those Rascals. (Also read: Scoundrels)
I knew I couldn’t prove them wrong until I was wrong myself. I still remember their introduction in my head was something like this – Hi; I’m a phantom of your own imagination. I say what you think and you say what I think, deal? And I promptly agreed. I thought it was a fair deal – And then their intoxicating party began, I soon realized I was like this club who officially hired these effing DJs under a life long contract with only one statutory warning (which I so stupidly missed) – “Come what may, you can not quit it”… And then they played their music.

Their volumes reached an “are you crazy” level in the freaking head.

I think my speculation as to why THEY existed was quite right. You know when they say, lets make the dogs fight for the fuck of it, I was soon coming to believe that’s all there was to it.
It was a 70 mm wide screen to them – and they demanded 3D drama now.
But sooner or later, I had to give it to them. It’s like they had a plan and it started to make sense in its own bizarre sort of way. In the process of denial, I was hit by what acceptance is. I thought of dying in air crashes only cuz I loved life so much. It wasn’t the loud noise in the head; it was my desire of WANTING the lack of it. I wouldn’t learn to swim, if drowning was never a question. The point is – most of us are missing the point.

Chuck quotes, “Until you find something to fight for, you settle for something to fight against”, I just couldn’t agree more. :)