Move ya baadi, Sheikh Yerbouti!

I find traffic signals very intriguing. They are these transits in temporal relastatics where people are forced to halt for a bit and dowse down the fireflies in their heads. Musically, its an ensemble of Halfordians who've continually listened to Freewheel Burning, Killing Machine and Turbo Lover for half their lifetime. The latest addition to the playlist being Breaking The Law! I admit to have found great thrill in jumping signals.
Its truly an art form how we scramble forward in signals and avoid plonking into each other despite such microscopic degrees of proximity.
I also think beating the signal is about the next most focussed human activity ever, after sex. The duality of this sentence is justified because we're all in a mad hurry to get home after sex.
I mean if we put half as much grit and focus into our jobs as into beating signals, we'd be fuckin world-beaters! Again, duality. We'd really be fucking world-beaters.
The other thing about traffic signals is the vanguard. The people at the forefront behind whom there's a terribly impatient pack of vehicles all waiting for the green. I just love the look on the face of the unfortunate soul at the front when his vehicle refuses to start and the bus right behind him honks a hellishly loud horn. Man, thats a sadist's dream come true!
On similar lines is when you bang right into the rear of lady's scooty. She's being all feminine and ultra-careful, keeping both feet in the air and trying to get the balance going and stuff. Suddenly you ram in from behind and she's so rattled. I find that terribly cute!

But then again, you don't find too many people spending a lot of their time trying to achieve spiritual enlightenment by waiting at traffic signals. These blokes go on a vacation. So I've decided to be part of this elastic tradition and thus stop ranting about traffic signal dee-da-do.
Yes, its that time of the year once again. And this time it is postively going to be the mother of all vacations. GOA!!!
With Adi and Amar flying off to the US for furthur studies and with most of the others already with a job-in-waiting, it is likely to be our last trip together. For how emotionally disturbing that thought is, I'm sure we're going to live it up large.
My muse to walk along the beaches under a star-lit sky, pants folded upto knee-length, beer in hand and hawt-someone in arm once again frees itself. Hope she's not stuck philandering with butterflies in Timbuk3 this time.
So here's me signin off, looking forward to five days of fun, spirituality, beer, topless firangs and no baths!
Cheers!

P.S: I realised how much I refute baths. I'm suddenly glad that I'm not Roman. Now there's a country thats fuckin synonymous with baths! Bleh.
P.P.S: I'm sporting such an evil grin right now, you have no idea! Buahaha.

One!

Angie, I still love you, baby
Ev’rywhere I look I see your eyes

And say one of your greatest fears in life is being backstabbed by people you trust the most, people whom you live your life with on a daily basis. The concept of a backstab is admittedly subjective, if not warped. Suppose there is this project you are supposed to deal with for a time period. You implicitly assume that one of your best pals is going to pick you as a partner. When he doesn't and instead goes for others in the same gang, you interpret it as a backstab.
Here onwards you are variantly angry and depressed. So you resort to severe sulking and deliberate withdrawal.

I think mankind in general has a severe ego problem. Lets face it, a lot of people find this bizarre pleasure in sulking. We atomise our mind into thinking we are perfectly, absolutely, totally correct on all counts and it is upto the rest of the world to realise its mistake and send us huge love boxes with apologies, hugs and kisses. We seek solace in a kind of ethereal solitude for a bit, conveniently freeing the muse to care about and laugh with the very people we've long cared about and laughed with.
By the way, I think the term 'cold war' was coined because there was a lot of unbroken ice around. But coming to think about it, it can as well be the other way round. Brain-food, while I wait for the death of the wrong desires.

So, I saw Rang De Basanti. Yes its a terrific picture. It did to me what it did to most other viewers and reviewers around. It moved me and it made me think. Although it painted a comfortably sad mood-potrait in my mind, it didn't make me cry. And just as well! There is this part in the movie where DJ becomes soulfully reflective about the present being the time of their lives. About nothing staying the same with his buddies. About each of them taking their own respective paths after college. About no part of the prevalent fun coming around again.
Ordinarily I'd have flashed a sentimental look toward my friends at this juncture or even shed a tear. But I didn't. The ego and withdrawal instincts controlled me.
No this is not where I want to be. I want to rid myself of this stupid pointless fake apathy. I want to laugh with them again. I know I care, and that they care. I want to get back to expressing it. But I also wish that when that happens, they reciprocate equally explicitly.
Not because it massages my ego, but because it really breaks the ice.

Too big a picture to live by

Unchain the colours
Before my eyes
Yesterday's sorrows
Tomorrow's white lies.

We might not realise it, but we are governed by the politics of perpetual change. With time, we discover whole new dimensions of ourselves that we never knew existed. It overwhelms us. Thats what it primarily does. From then on, depending on the state of the mind before the discovery it may either enliven us or alienate us furthur.
There is this hypothetical "system" that bears the brunt of all of our existential angst. Feel depressed? Oh well, the system is fucked.
I think, up until one point in life we're all an outrageously pompous race who cannot come to terms with the fact that we are the cause of ourselves. Then suddenly, there is a primal surge upstairs. Realisation that everything is irreflexive and legions of minute mutually exclusive events that are communicating sensitivity into you. What follows is a beautiful self-actualisation process after which you end up with a clear sense of exactly what you didn't want to know.

A double egg-roll and Orange Gola can make it all the more beautiful. Relaxatives.

In a nutshell, I was thinking and a thought hit me. It is staggering in its simplicity.
What is so positive about living like there is no tomorrow?
Is it not clearly more positive to live with a sense of positivity about tomorrow?