The Pogroms of Happiness

Only when you have money will I be you. 
Only if you are successful will I hang around with you,
then and then only if you are me will I talk to you. 

I have heard this all my life and totally understand the statements, afterall the statements are the trappings of a modern materialistic life.  Its easy to understand what people want from you if you are the rich and famous, if you aren't well there's only blissful ignorance.  Imagine being shut off from every single person you have known your life because they have pained you.  Every single face brings memories of hurt that turn quickly into hatred.  I hate that face, so why do I have to talk to him.  That woman has only malice towards me and I have to say please and thank you.  No please and no thank you, I would rather go down and down and down till you can't see me and till you forget me, till you don't even find my mention in the obituaries, till I am banished even from your thoughts, like the car washer or the menial job worker who cleans your clothes and washes your dishes.  Till that moment arrives I can't really rise because your jealousy causes pain and pulls me down.  I have no money so why are you jealous of me, you must hate my face so much that every moment of my happiness causes a strong sense of anger in you.  You must really hate me a lot, I can sense it and feel it, go away screams your mind at me, and I will go away for I don't want this either.  NOT ANY OF THIS.

This brings memories of the tea stalls and small time biscuit shops, of "mathis", the eternal favourite indian snack.  There is some kind of magic in sitting on a crooked broken wooden 2 seater stool and just sipping tea and trying to forget hurtful memories till somebody arrives at the shack and the face or voice resembles somebody so much that I run to the next destination, not wanting to fight, maybe too confused and scared to fight, I just run to the next destination not knowing where it is.  Just godammit, let the night come, for the day brings too many memories.  I don't know how to spend my time and it is too expensive riding a car nowadays to visit far of destinations and who wants to visit ugly relatives anyhows.  So I walk and I walk like at least 5-10 kms every day, same area, different routes visiting different strangers selling their wares.  I have lost the sense of time, nothing exists as I just wait for the day to set and night to come and then there is one final meal and then sleep.  I have an Air Conditioner to sleep under but I don't pay the bills for it.  So I run, because life I think life doesn't want me to earn money.  I think I am looking for a motive, an answer to my predicament and some kind of rationalization, why am I so vague and unbonded, why do I hate my friends and family so much ?  I know the answers and I have them in me, its just that my mind is unwilling to accept them. 

I just don't have the skills - to earn money.  I have spent thirty years of my life, since I was born, doing something that doesn't earn me money.  And since I don't have money, nobody loves me.  I run away from this thought, seek solace in loneliness, when there is no solace to be found.  I am lonely and desireless.  Everything and everyone I desire is not with me anymore.
Set people free, so that you are not taken for granted.

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Rise and Fall from Grace

Back .. the study on [ renewables and energy ] took its toll.  I felt ill and tired for a day, but I am back here with renewed energy and a new focus.  Been wondering so much about [death], you might think its the only thing on my mind.  But I have other things on my mind - like peace and loving [ RIP ].  Crimes, I did commit, oh and not normal ones, we are not talking about crimes of the carnal variety or love of mammon.  Come to think all this talk I try to weave on this post is all about getting to the point that is so hard to reach as it is the point of no return.  Its like getting stuck between a rock and a hard place, so if I get free I hope there is a pool of water at the bottom to fall into.  Saving grace is that I do really so want to write about it.

It all started when I was young and doing well in the city of Mysore, a lovely haven in the south of India.  Till then I had a sheltered life, living in the city of Delhi with my mom, dad and sis.  Mysore changed some things about me for sure, one I began to be counted amongst the educated elite of the country and two I picked up this habit Kleptomania.  I flicked 25 books from a shop here and shipped them to a woman in my life in Delhi as her birthday present.  How did I do it ?  Well, when a disease takes over your body, the mind is also affected.  I moved to Bangalore, another metropolis in the south, and again books were on my mind, what was it about them and this time it was Tom Peters "In Search of Excellence" that I jacked in my denim jacket to begin with.  Loved the book but I think my soul had lost the essence of its ability to read and assimilate.  I didn't know then but I was seriously ill because my ability to rationale what was right and wrong had been affected.  I just went to bookshops and picked whatever book I liked and walked out without paying for it.  What was I doing, was there a purpose, who for godsake was controlling my mind, I needed help then and now when I think of it there was no help at hand because I was looked upon as somebody who was a leader - a handsome fella with brains is always placed on a pedestal by a lot of folks.  By I needed help then as I needed help when I came back to Delhi and started this thing of stealing stuff from my own family, my cousins, from their houses - "God!! , where have you led me to and what am I doing".  The thought that occurs to me only now when I think about and repent.  Who would have thought that this tall strapping lad had such a mean streak in him.  He needed to be punished, to be brought back to his senses and how is probably another story that I will write in time. 

Suffice to say that I believe whatever crime we commit we pay for in this lifetime.  There is no afterlife only ONE LIFE TO LIVE.

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