Searching for ideals

Something I wrote in my diary about a year back -

...I think there lies our search for God and idealism. We always want to rely on someone/something better than us, a perfect person, a Superman. For little ones, their father is God. The ideal being, and they rely on their dad - they really believe their father can do anything, and its mostly true for their small world. We look for support to people who are stronger than us, are not shaken by circumstances, dont have the weakness we find so troubling in ourself. And we strive to be them. And thus the struggle to be strong, to be free. And if, by some chance, we discover that our ideal person has his/her own faults, they are no longer ideal. And we look for other support. We find much of it in great men of history and they become the guiding light for our actions. God is the best concept which provides that ideal.

But we have to find strength within us, plug our own holes, be our own masters - thats the only solution.

Aint it funny?

First people kill their instincts,
Then wonder why they lack the killer instinct.

Something I wrote on orkut

From my past relationships I have learned-

• never try to be good
• dont borrow judgements, make your own
• expect the best, but only from yourself
• if someone wants to leave you, let them
• a guy and a girl cant be true friends
• one goes, another comes.

and..

uchit doori banaye rakhen.

Dualism

I felt pain, wrote a poem..
I feel pleasure when I read it.

Do you understand?

She called me to ask whether I would come to the party. I said I would. She asked what was I doing at the moment. I said I was writing my diary.

Had I written anything about her in my diary?

Yes.

Would I bring my diary for her to see?

No.

Please?

No.

Please, give me a surprise. We are friends, aren't we?

Ha ha. See I dont share my diary with anyone.

After much effort.. she said.. ok.. I understand.

Thats what people do when they can do nothing else. They understand. Had she really understood, she wouldnt have asked for the diary, and even if asked, wouldnt have asked more than once.

2 short ones

A case for truth

Lying, sometimes, must not be counted among sins..
But telling the truth, is much more likely to convince.

A pessimistic view

I am a sinner turned saint,
Only to know much difference there aint,
In all the pain endured in vain..
Good guys winning.. thats not certain.

I am..

I may make you laugh and not be your
friend,

I may make you cry and not be your
enemy,

When everyone is around,
I may just not be found..

But when alone in the night.. in the darkness..
You see a light..

That is I.

Stoneheart

Today..

It was only half jokingly she told him that he was stone hearted. He laughed.. knowing well that it was by the medium of jokes that bitter truth was most easily conveyed. He had recently finished (in1day).. a hindi novel which was supposed to be very emotionally taxing..but he was barely touched, forget about being moved. He went to see an emotional movie (Baabul) with his parents, but the only happiness or sadness felt was felt in winning or losing points in playing Sherlock Holmes with his dad...they would predict moves, intentions, and even dialogues of the screen characters...were always right..it was only a matter of who deduced things first. He laughed and hugged his mum when she came out crying from the movie. Had he really become feeling-less and stone hearted? His mind went back to a few days ago....

That day..

He sat on a pavement, near the Gold Souk building in Gurgaon..waiting for a senior to pick him up. Suddenly a searing stab of pain shot through his head. His eyes burned as tears welled up in them..and he found himself crying bitterly.. as bitterly as he had ever cried.. in a matter of seconds. During such fits, he observed, he could think very clearly, his mind would be detached, he could think clearly and analyse why he was crying... the chain of events which had triggered this outburst. Maybe thats why people feel good after crying... thoughts become clearer. But all this had no effect on his actions.

He let out a yelp of pure pain. His detached mind wondered how others would feel if they saw him this way. How would she feel? He, among the bravest, proudest among them, an inspiration, reduced to a pitiable sight.. in a few moments, without any apparent reason. His thoughts went to her again.. in a perverted sort of way, he would like her to see him this way..but of course, he would never let that happen. He needed a hug right now..a shoulder to cry on.

But he was alone. Could not meet the senior in such a state. He quickly took out the scraps of paper from his pocket.. they were his solace in times of solitary pain. He started solving math puzzles.. magic squares, numbers soothed his mind.. made his thinking much clearer.. magical indeed. He was okay now.

Back to Today..

He had not felt much for the characters in the novel or the movie. If this was being stone hearted, he was happy that way. He now always carried some puzzles at the back of his mind.. to work on whenever he found his mind going astray. He wanted to stop giving a damn for people. Why did he think he had to protect his friends? Were they not well enough without him? Why did he think he was indispensable? Everything passes.. was that not the ultimate philosophical axiom? But feeling is what makes us human..he thought... but if being human means being weak...he wanted none of it..he was the strongest..the hard headed.. the stone hearted.. idealistic..and feeling-less.. and with these thoughts of strength.. he drowned the feelings of the pain within.