To women over 30

I take it back. I liked Turning 30! It was eerily similar to my life so far. Loved the bai...she reminded me of Malti di. OMO...I miss you. She does cry a lot in the movie, something which is tough to understand for someone who hasn't gone through that level of heartbreak. Saw a woman protagonist I could identify with after a long time.
It's a more important issue for singletons still, I think. If you are well set on the career ladder, totting kids, or happily married, this milestone isn't so scary.
What if you're alone, stuck in a job you dislike, unhappily unmarried? It's all in the head. We all know people who are unhappyily married, who whine even if they are well set.
We should be more than what we do, or who loves or doesn't love us. Rather than living in a vaccum, waiting to be filled by a job or a significant other, we should fill it ourselves, bit by bit, minute by minute. And before we know it, it will become a habit.
I know some wonderful thirty plus women who are single. Some say men feel threatened by their success. Others are vertically or horizontally different. Still another is the stereotypical man hater.
How have they coped? Some are single in the city, others live in parents. Still others live in the same city as their parents, but separately.
They're all great fun to be with. More so than many married women i know, who can only talk about their children, maids, and houses.
We do maid talk too, and house talk. Some of us are close to nieces, nephews, and strange kids.
While I'm on the subject, I know some fantastic 40 year olds, people in their fifties, sixties, and twenties.
What do they all have in common?
Cognitively, they're as fresh as children.
When I was twenty, thirty seemed a long way away. I promised myself I would write a novel by then. So far, i have a few short stories. I'm already planning goals for the next decade.
40's the new 30.
The twenties are for dreaming. I think the thirties are for rediscovering those hopes, and working towards making them come true.
We've learnt to be more self reliant, but also realise we need people. Occasionally.
Even physically, age reflects what you think.
yours,
29+

Maya, the Screen

Turning 30! is to be avoided. Wish the same was possible with actually turning thirty. A thought- mental age differs from physical age, like kairos differs from chronos. There is good kairos and bad kairos- by which I mean, events which give us pleasure and events which sadden. The latter is better from a growing point of view, but not one we submit to willingly.
Reading The Penguin Edition of The Upanishads, specifically the introduction. Got interested after listening to Parthasarthy speak on the Isha Upanishad. Prefer these to self help books, which nag. The Upanishads merely glory in the joy of God, wanting you to experience the same. Treating others as if we were all one, what a simple way to do good! More as I continue on the journey.
We live as we dream. Alone. Conrad.
Inner life must be lived alone, like we die alone. From the afore mentioned introduction.
Poetry and religion are even more similar than psychology and religion. So even more interesting to me! Reading a book I felt like marking after a long time.
Both must be felt, and are tough to describe. Another line I liked from the introduction- poets make the abstract concrete. So do the Upanishads.
It's a pity religious questions make it tough for them to be taught in school. With a science driven world, we just haven't kept up. We can't declare ourselves obsolete. Technology will just have to wait while we understand ourselves.

The dot to the line

A line expects to get somewhere.
This, too, is a line.
The earth rotates without a prayer
Gets nowhere, that's fine.
Days dawn, dusk in night
Content to be, that's right.

Why then, do we expect telos
Can't we be content with kairos?
Greedy, we want kairos all the time
Too lazy to make it,but we want to dine.

Rememberance of things past now

"Kairos" (opportunity, time, chance).

The original bronze allegoric statue made by Lysippos stood at his home, in the Agora of Hellenistic Sikyon.

Epigram of Posidippos, on the statue of Kairos by Lysippos:

Who and whence was the sculptor?

From Sikyon.

And his name?

Lysippos.

And who are you?

Time who subdues all things.

Why do you stand on tip-toe?

I am ever running.

And why you have a pair of wings on your feet?

I fly with the wind.

And why do you hold a razor in your right hand?

As a sign to men that I am sharper than any sharp edge.

And why does your hair hang over your face?

For him who meets me to take me by the forelock.

And why, in Heaven's name, is the back of your head bald?

Because none whom I have once raced by on my winged feet will now, though he wishes it sore, take hold of me from behind.

Why did the artist fashion you?

For your sake, stranger, and he set me up in the porch as a lesson.

In Defense of English Honours

Support came from an entirely unexpected quarter- the Times of India. In yesterday's main section- not even Education Times- I saw a headline designed to gladden my heart- English (H) the most sought after course.

What delighted me was that the article was substantially correct- namely, the course develops your analytical skills, you end up studying history, sociology, anthropoly, economics along with good writing.

It's heartening that people have now begun to recognise that.

Not that I took it for these reasons- I just loved literature, then discovered most of my class had taken it for the same reason. We were in collective anguish in third year when the party came to an end.

Studying about minorities and being in one- that too, a minority of one- in bschool were two entirely different things. Sometimes I too would think that my major in College was a waste from a vocational point of view.

Liberal arts- whether history, philosophy, economics- to a lesser extent did help us become more articulate.

Passion is by it's very nature, inexplicable. I had difficulty understanding how someone could take up history or philosophy. I guess therefore on some level I understood why my bschool batchmates looked at me as if I had horns.

But at the end of the day, passion makes it all worthwhile.

As Langston Hughes said, What happens to a dream that dies?

We must resuscitate them.

Or be dead men and women walking.

डर के आगे जीत है

I was told once that when you point a finger at someone, three point back at you.

They’re called Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva.

You can create, maintain or destroy your status quo.

Fancy flights

There is something about the womb of an airplane, the tribal attendants, the atmosphere which lets us enjoy soaring, staring as sun yolks trickle through blues.

Shankaracharya

Vivekachudamani is full of gyan that I liked- perhaps because I have not come across this brand earlier.

How to tame the flesh, free the spirit.

I liked it.

On Living Free

Too many people compromise on their ideals as they age. Security fears that exist as a child too often impact the adult. Too many people run from the dark side of the moon to embrace illusions.
It's never too late.
We live in our minds, live with ourselves before we meet the world.
It is hence important to do.
Or else, you die.
To forever hold your peace.

On life, the universe and everything

It's important to meet your hero in the magic minutes of the morning. That's when the dream world changes in the real world. That's when you can try and make the real world the real world.
No need to write The Great Global Novel ( Pun unintended) in one day flat.
The world's a global village.Provincial in ideas. It needs something to hold on to if there isn't someone to hold one to.
I usually bathe at leisure. Today the thoughts banged on my skull, demanding to be let out and live. A different kind of headbanging.
One can't write in the dream world. one can only write about the real world at length, about how it should be the real world.
In writing, one has to lose the I . Because one has to make it interesting. Make the reader and the writer both live, and thereby want to live.
It is a schizophrenic world. One must try not to let it split one in half.