The Story of Stuff

Stuff that we all should know about stuff.

About blogging.

I was a reader and follower of blogs for a long time, before I had one of my own. There were few blogs, that I passionately followed. I thoroughly enjoyed reading them, and spent hours reading their entire archives. Sometimes, it's like I know them in person. 

Some of them are Priyamanaval, Jikku, Sleepless-In-IIMA, Sine-Qua-Non, Gapp, Sudhish and few others. Then there are many others, I discovered recently, such as debum, thamizhachi, english-tamil, niniane and many others. I think these guys are brilliant bloggers, with whom you can strike a chord, in one way or the other. I was able to relate with what they wrote. I could see, how much, I felt similarly too, it was beautiful when you see someone write thoughts, that run in your mind.

There have been times, when I have taken printouts of 'Sleepless-In-IIMA' to read during train journeys. 

Then I created my first blog. My intention was to write, like the ones, I enjoyed reading, and to also be able to write about what I felt, and to get honest opinions from people about what they felt, about what I felt.

I went about writing whatever that came to my mind, and about stuff that was happening in my life. A few friends and fellow bloggers started visiting my blog and became regulars. I started getting few positive comments. As time went by, I started watching the number of hits I was getting, and it felt good, to know that I have some readership. It felt good to know that few people liked what I wrote.

Sometime later, I got my first negative comment, an 'anonymous' friend rubbished whatever, I wrote. It wasn't even logical disagreement to what I had written, doesn't matter, however critical. It was just some silly sarcasm and names calling. That pissed me off a bit. Then, then there were comments, that supported me, and bashed Mr. Anonymous and that felt nice.

But what was actually happening was, a limitation, some kind of a wall had developed in my mind. I knew I had a readership now, which I didn't want to disappoint. I wanted the same kind of positive comments. I didn't feel comfortable writing about stuff, that would bring in negative comments. There were a set restrictions now. I didn't like that. 

People in the real world who knew me, started developing an impression on me, based on what I wrote on my blog. People at work, who barely knew me for couple of months, drew opinions and impressions from what I had written in the past. I was getting uncomfortable with that.

Then, I went through a rough phase, had to part ways with two of my close friends. We shared the same set of friends. It was getting difficult for me to be in the same group, and hang out in social gatherings, where they were present, being in part of the same mailing lists, where they were present. I wanted them to vanish from my life, and similarly I didn't want them to know about anything that was happening in my life, be it good or bad.

Invariably, I stopped blogging.

Life went on, many things happened, I wanted to write, I wanted a space, where I could just be somebody with an online presence, and have no real-life connection, and most important of all, where I could comfortably, and totally be myself. InWantOfBeingMe was born.

Writing or Blogging is driven by many things, to share with the world about something that you are passionate about, be it technical or just a passtime, to entertain people, to gain more readership, to share with the world what you think, and get an opinion about what others think about what you think, etc, etc...

I was just thinking about all this, and trying to be honest with myself and identify with why I really blog. 

I blog for myself, I blog about things which I find real, which I think is humorous, memories that are special to me, all of which I can look back after a few years and smile at how much I have changed, or not changed.

I want to make a sincere effort at that, I will.

Calorie burning alcohol.

A friend (who has gained a few extra kilos from alcohol consumption during an extended vacation) and I were having a discussion about how working out and alcohol don't mix and that alcohol actually slows down the BMR.

He's working out, but is finding it hard to lose weight amidst his rich social life. He suggested, 'There are so many medicines, and operations to lose weight. Why can't they invent an alcoholic variant that can burn a lot of calories, so the more you drink, the more weight you lose !, and you get high anyway !'

We laughed a bit and succumbed in agreement that, no way is that going to happen, there's no easy way out. If you have to lose weight, you have to cut the alcohol, eat healthy and work out regularly. There's no other easy way out !

Then he went on to point out, that 'Ecstacy' was originally invented and sold legally as an appetite suppressant. Similarly, Viagra was originally invented to treat cardio-vascular diseases and all folk, who ingested it for treatment, ended up being hard and durable :D

He sincerely hopes, someday there will be an alcoholic variant that'll help burn calories. :D

To smile or not to smile.

Both your eyes meet. A sense of familiariy ensues, you'v seen each other few many times at the gym, have cycled on stationary bicycles next to each other, have ran couple of miles on treadmills  next to each other.

You contemplate between smiling and and mouthing a 'Hi'. A half smile begins to emerges out of doubt, she looks at you for a moment, then turns her glare elsewhere and walks away. You are thinking, "damn !" and walk away, hoping your half smile emerged only after her glare shifted elsewhere.

What I really want to be ?

I envy Sachin Tendulkar, because he does what he's passionate about.

I envy Mani Rathnam, because he does what he's passionate about.

I envy my colleague in my work place, because he does what he's does with so much of passion.

I envy my friend who's in the Indian Airforce, because he is proud of what he is, and is passionate about where he is headed...

I envy the watchman in my aparment, because he is passinate about gardening and takes care of the plants and the apartment so well, he seems to love what he does.

When, I was much younger, I wanted to be a doctor, not because of the realisation that I could save lives, but because, my uncle was one, and he was well-liked and respected by everyone in the family. 

Later, I wanted to become an engineer, because my dad was one and was well-liked and respected by everyone in the family. 

Later, I wanted to become a pilot, join the NDA, because my brother wanted to become one, and he couldn't, becuase he had an accident and was rendered medically unfit, so he wanted to make me one.  The airforce pilot tag, appealed to me. I wrote the screening test, and failed it. I was disappointed, but joined some college anyway. 

College was mighty fun. I never really re-looked at my options of joining the airforce. College got over, even before I knew it, I wanted more of it, so took up post-graduation and joined college again. Sometime in my 1st year, the idea of joining the airforce surfaced, I took up the basic 

screening test for the officers cadre and failed again. 

Later, college got over, I got placed in my first job, reality struck, it took sometime for me to digest and accept reality, but yeah, I got over it and found my job pretty cool. It sounded really cool, to even tell somebody what I was working on, that exited me. I was happy. I was learning, things were going on well. I was passionate about the technology that I was working on.

Time went by, I got another job. My next job was in a different city, I had to move out of home, for the first time, and be on my own. The indenpendence that seemed exiting in the beginning, only increased my dependence on home and mom. However, I was exited about my new job and the technology, so that kept me going.

My new job took me to a new country for a brief stint. I met a friend, through a common friend. He had an admit in Oxford, Stanford, Dale and a few other ivy league universities. He was working for the biggest investment banking firms in the world, and was going to quit and take up college. He was soft spoken and polite. I was impressed yet again, I loved his life, his routine. I wanted that MBA from an Ivy League university.

After a while, monotony creeped in, my work didn't seem to exite me anymore. I was bewildered and became withdrawn, seeing people doing things, not knowing really why they are even doing it ! I was pushed into a shell, just going about doing stuff that I was asked to.

It was during this time, that I started appreciating films and film making. I had evolved from just watching movies for the sake of entertainment, to understand the kind of impact they made on people. I watched with exitement, some films, and was in awe of few film makers. I was impressed at the kind of content they could create, the imagination, the mix of reality, the kind of visuals they were capable of creating, the emotions. It dazzled me. I wanted to be a film maker.

Then, I went through a rough phase, parted ways with someone who was a dear friend & guide. My love for films and film making and all these things that had happened in my life, took me to the next stage of believing I could make a film. I had a script. It was easy, It was my life. I thought I had a beautiful script. I wanted the real-life characters to play their parts in my film. It was easy for everybody, all they had to do was be themselves. I began to talk to them, convince them, train them, to not to be camera shy.

Friends & Family decided that I was crazy. They got worried. I approached a producer to narrate my script and the cast I had in mind. Seeing my background, he wanted to put me on a test. He wanted me to shoot on video camera, a talent search event he was doing for heros and heroins for his new film. He wanted me to bring my own camera crew, equipment, and wanted me to cover the back-stage, the feel, the pulse, the vibes of the participants, the show in general. 

I realised, he was taking me for a ride, he just wanted to cover his show on camera for free. He was interested in the footage. I never returned his phone call.

I then narrated my script to a debutant actress friend, just to get a vibe of what she felt and if I 

sounded sensible enought and if I could go any forward. She did what she could.

At the end of it all, I made some friends, rather aquaintances, which made up for interesting 

conversations & some learning about how the industry worked. It only made me realise, I wasn't getting anywhere. I have to admit, I didn't give it my best shot. I didn't try hard. After a few failures, I gave up. 

It's going to be sometime now, I am going about doing my job, going about my routine, trying to get better at what I do for a living, to learn, to grow, to evolve. I wouldn't say life is bad, but I am still searching.

Post-holiday coping.

Am a little dazed. Everything is in slow motion. After driving around for some 1000  odd, kilometers in the last 4 days, meeting friends and partying, attending a cousings wedding, again meeting up with the same friends and partying, and then having to get back to work today, definitely has had it's toll.

It was great to meet friends, party and then sit down with them to reminise old times, I totally love that, the un-adultrated laughter that ensues. It's beautiful. It's electric.

As, I quickly got home, showered and as I was driving to the destination, knowing I am going to meet them there, the boyish exitement, I could feel running through me, is something I cannot express. 

Now, that it's all over, I am at work, and I feel dazed and slowed down. I think it will be tommorow, when I can get back into a pace, and start racing against myself. I have to, I will.