Intentions

Intentions are so relative. What's a good intention that is misinterpreted or what's a bad intention that works good for some.

cranium's boredom ballad

What do I do? Getting bored. Feeling lost. Bad results. Mom. Dad. I’ll write my journals. No I don’t wanna write them. Let me call her. No I don’t want to. Okay I’ll call someone else. Well, who do I call. Hmmm. No I don’t want to talk to anyone. I’ll go to Pune tomorrow. Nah. What’ll I do? I am short on money. Its okay I’ll borrow. No forget it. God help me. Govinda. I think I should listen to some music. La la la la. Rang de, dil se. No. English music. I don’t like rock. I don’t want to listen to the same old songs. Please no Don Williams. Okay My immortal. Fuck its so sad. Something better. Okay fuck the music, I’ll read. One page, two pages, three pages…god its so boring. Life is so boring. There’s nothing to do here. What do I do? I am lost. No Milind you cant think like this. Do something. What do I do? There’s nothing here. Computer. Internet. What the hell!! No one’s online. Gosh! no bloody internet connectivity. Darn, what a god forsaken place is this. Hare Ram Hare Krishna. Movie. Porn. No sexual drive. Disgusting. What do I do? Sleep. Shit. Fuck. No sleep. Mosquitoes. Fuck them. I’m thirsty. Water. Now I am hungry. What do I do? I’ll eat. I don’t have anything here. Wait I’ll ask someone. Fuck, no one has anything. No luck. More water. Sleep. Still no sleep. Walk. Talk. What to talk and with whom. Okay no talk. Some silence. Enough. Yes!!! Write. Computer. MS Word. Write. Over with writing. Now what do I do? Help. Govinda Govinda. More water. Again some water. Heck I’m not thirsty. Who cares. More water. Sleep. No sleep. Still sleep. Hare Ram Hare Krishna. Sleep. water. No sleep. Okay phone call. Talk. Now finally sleepy. Sleep.

Candy's Story: Part 3

The death had grieved Candy endlessly. The indifference of the people around her made her realize the intensity of the loss, which the death had left behind. After all, he was somebody who fought for those mute creatures who could not fight for themselves. As she sat by the window searching for a solace in the starry night, the universe conspired and the faithful night delivered Aperture to her, changing their fates in a matter of three hours. And thus, a journey began for both of them, when Aperture first saw his reflection in Candy, on that fateful night.

To be continued...

Candy's Story: Part 2

One day a great tragedy befell on Candy. And, off course, many more were to follow in the days to come. The guy from those animal documentary channels, Steve Irwin, died. Yeah, he’s the same moron who dangled his month old baby in front of the crocodiles. No, the crocs did not eat the baby. Well, talking about Candy, Oh, how much she adored Steve Irwin! Her life temporarily plunged into darkness. She could hear him say in her dreams, in his distasteful Australian accent, “wow, and check out that crawk. Isn't she byootiful?” To make matters worse, everyone she spoke to about his death gave a hoot to it. Candy couldn’t understand how human could be so apathetic towards another human’s death and especially when he is done a favour to the world by teaching the difference between an alligator and a crocodile. She found it hard to accept that life moves on. But that’s our Candy. Anyway, things were going to change for better soon, particularly, on that fateful full moon night.

To be continued...

inferno of a candle

When a breeze becomes a storm the very thing that is soothing and comforting becomes destructive. While the destruction happens, the distinction between the right and wrong starts vanishing gradually. As in the words of Robert Browning, ‘Our interest’s on the dangerous edge of things--The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.’ A candle that’s used to dispel darkness becomes an inferno consuming everything in its way and its brightness becomes blinding. At the very end of this destruction there is an uneasy calm. A kind of calmness that has the power to tear into the hearts and cause pain, which is even beyond that caused when a dagger is stabbed into the chest.

When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a shower of mercy.

When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song.

When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.

When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner, break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king. When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.

- Song 39 Gitanjali

Nothing in creation ever works to plan, including creation itself; And God had seven days to get it right

Let go baby!!!!

My daddy told me, when I was a young man,
A lesson he learnt, long time ago.
If you want to have, someone to hold on to,
You’re gonna have to, learn to let go.
You got to sing, like you don’t need the money,
Love, like you’ve never before,
You got to dance, like nobody’s watching,
Got to come from your heart, if you want it to work.

-A song by Don Williams

To let go of things is seemingly the most difficult thing for me. Any person worth considering would know that to be happy and at peace in life you have to let go of things time and again. Some of these things may be very dear to you. But nevertheless everything becomes old and everything becomes stale. They are like chewing gum. You chew it and suck out the flavour but eventually you have to spit it out. But I keep hanging on to them and it causes a lot of pain and makes me feel disgusted.

Every emotion or a relationship has a shelf life and a boundary. I know I must not overstep it. Yet I do it more often than not. I have wondered many times why do I do it but I don’t ever seem to be able to answer it. I am a kind of a person who cannot care less for those around. But when it comes to the scarce few I consider myself close to I just can’t free myself from them even if I believe I am dying.

My friends who told me "life is a bed of roses"

A friend to me is person who loves you for what you are. Who knows what hurts you and what makes you happy. Who is honest and who never gets bored of you. I once read somewhere that sometimes we put walls around our heart, not just to be safe from getting hurt, but to find out who cares enough to break the walls and get closer. I guess this just means we look for a friend who not only understands our behaviour pattern but who can actually read our souls.

I have had many wonderful friends. Some have become the cornerstones of my life, with some the dimensions of my friendship have radically changed while there are a few I have lost recently. All I wanted was they remain honest to me and be with me and understand me when I really needed them. Instead I was lied to by one. Another called me a depressing parasite. These were the very people who once upon felt they were lucky to have known me. The only thing that kept me going was that love and respect I have for myself and, of course because of the few others who stuck by me in my most needful and dreaded hours. These were the people who never questioned why I was troubled or what was causing it. They just stood by. They stood by to support me, to cheer me and to lift me when I fell. And I never realized this. I went hanging on to those who never understood me. I did so because they were the ones I thought were my best friends. I failed to rationalize that, it was me who cared and loved them like my own and not otherwise. I gave my time, my energy and my love to them unconditionally. But when it was their turn they coolly blamed me for the condition I was in. They said my ideas are too rigid, that I never opened up or shared my feelings and I was too emotional and impractical in life. They said I never shared their happiness and many a time dampened it too. They said everything other than ‘don’t worry I am there no matter what’. Some of them taught me life. They showed me that life is after all a bed of roses. By the way I hate roses. I agree honesty sometimes can be more painful and some of them were brutally honest. But then, this is how life treats everyone or that is what I firmly believe.

I want to thank all my pals for all that they have given me. I am sorry for not realizing this earlier. And to the “others”, people I still love you but I don’t trust you any longer. I beg of you to please stay away from me if I’m unworthy but don’t ever pretend. I rather love a person who I know hates me than fool myself.

i believe

I faLL aND I pIck MyseLf up.
I Lose hope yet I DreaM.
I aM Lost aND I fIND MyseLf agaIN.
I cry aND I Laugh through My tears.
I DespaIr yet I beLIeve.

Milind मिलिंद ಮಿಲಿಂದ್ മിലിന്ദ ് மிலிந்த் మిలింద్

Candy's Story

Once upon a time there lived an enigmatic girl. Her name was Candy. Candy was a perfect human being. She helped her parents in their family business. She took care of all the household chores like a decent child. She made friends easily. She was intelligent too.
Candy was loved by many. In fact, people found a lost friend or a lost lover in her. Anyone she spoke to, would start telling his life's woes to her and then expect her to do something out of it. So addictive was Candy that great friendships were broken for her. Even the eternal Gandhi would have breached his self-assumed celibacy and lost his comfort zone in her presence.

.....to be continued

Finally the Beginning

I have heard and read a lot of people saying that choosing a title for a blog you create just to pen down your ideas is the most difficult thing. I didn't believe at first. But then when i thought of starting my own blog it took me almost a month to actually come up with it just coz i couldnt think of what to name it!!! I mean, honestly, tell me have you ever thought of naming your diary. Not that i ever bothered to write a diary. Well one of the reasons for me not writing a diary is I always wanted people to know what I think (you see i cant pass on my diary to people and ask them to read it). So thats why the idea of a blog is something I absolutely love. What more, I can actually ask people to leave a comment (i will strictly moderate it though!!).

My blog is called Perspective because thats what it is all about--my perspective of life