Just read in the news, a guy in China who was described as the ‘unhappy pessimistic man’ burned himself along with a bus. Now I did not read the details so I don’t know much about the casualties or the reasons behind his actions but I’m sure no one in this world just wants to commit sins like these. They are compelled. Their surroundings compel them do something unconventional, undesired and sometimes deadly.  I know, I agree we all go through our share of pain in life and one must know how to endure pain and be strong enough to hard work his way out but the fact is, not all of us have similar life circumstances; neither do all of us have strong heads like rare. Sometimes the process of enduring pain goes beyond the understanding of its presence in one’s life and that’s when we give up.

Nafisa Khan

Nafisa Khan, An Angel

Few days ago, someone really talented gave up; Nafisa Khan (or otherwise known in the industry as Jiah Khan). Now I did not know her personally so right here I’m going to cross all my moral limits to comment on this incident. Knowing Nafisa’s superficially reality, I could easily comment that ‘why would someone like Jiah Khan do something like a suicide, she had everything she needed, didn’t she?’  

Sometimes, in fact most the times the reason of someone’s suicide is not resources, relationship, money, power or fame; though if you think about it either of these elements for sure lacks in the life of that individual but the real catalyst of someone’s suicide are/is people.  Human specie has come a long way from living in caves, jungles to suites and corporate jungles. Even though our way of living life has been constantly changing, we’re still greedy and needy of one small simple human phenomenon, attention from humanity. Yes, humans for sure are attention seekers; we need attention of our peers, of our loved ones and of the one who we care about; precisely why we rarely do something that doesn’t seek attention. Think about it; right from your facebook status, to your party invitation, to that email you sent yesterday,to that friend you helped, to gift you sent to your partner, to this blog post I’m wrote…they are all now a natural way of seeking attention.

Seeking attention doesn’t always mean someone needs to praise you or recognize you or keep you at the center of his world. You just need one person, one freaking person in the entire world that understands your one move that you executed at that very moment. It’s simple; we don’t want anything that we do, overlooked. I think that exactly is the point of humanity or living amongst a human race.

Look at Nafisa’s case, it’s not about resources; only if she had the right people in her life, she would be totally partying right now somewhere in Juhu.

But not all of us are lucky enough to have the right set people in our lives, I hope you’re.

If all Nafisa wanted was to positively impact and influence the life of that one person and to seek the warmth and understanding of the same; she has it now, from many but unfortunately it’s too late.

Nafisa Khan, You’re one shine that will always sparkle.

Rest in Peace.

Julian Dalbert once wrote:

“I think there is something about placement of words. I can understand words that are arbitrarily placed but not the ones that are systematically placed. Well, Arbitrary and Systematic are a matter of perspective which itself could be arbitrary in essence. May be this is what alcohol does to me; makes arbitrary systematic and systematic arbitrary. Sometimes I wonder what I write to you is arbitrary or systematic? But then if I knew the answer I won’t be writing again would I?
Isn’t it amazing…how a set of arbitrary alphabets can form a systematic word and how a set of arbitrary words form a systematic sentence? And beyond that how a set of systematic sentences can mean something completely arbitrary?”

 

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Somewhere in Aizawl, Mizoram; a father explains her daughter the essence of traveling.

“Rosa, let me advise you on something consequential about Crossroads. Amidst  your travel you will often find yourself at alien crossroads that you have never fancied before some crossroads are enchanting, buttoned up, beacon’d and restrained while others can be dangerous, haphazard, umbrous and abrupt. But your journey must go on.  You will often find beggars and usually find yourself imploring for love, you will mark this tricolor aurora that dominates your movements or vitality and obliges to keep you impervious; Be meticulous my child, it might defraud you.

At Crossroads you will also encounter mortals, don’t judge them by their cast, color, creed or sex but judge a kin who offers you a service for no cost. Don’t get intrigued by the satiny colorful cars that you see along the road, most of them are black in essence. Always give way to people who deserve to overtake, don’t be invidious but remember there is always mondo to learn. Be faithful to your co-passenger, he might be the only one who can overhaul your transport when you really need it but also remember there is always another crossroad coming up ahead along with a tenuous kismet of grappling an exceeding co-passenger.

Be patient! Crossroads can be tricky; traffic, accidents, broken roads, direction affairs you will confront them all…have faith in your essence,it might take time but you will always be able to overcome the unwanted. Believe that. Try walking down the promenade if you care to, its time consuming but sometimes it’s acceptable to go stall. Enjoy the countdowns. Listen to Music. Whatever you do, make your travel an offer that no gypsy can refuse.

  • When the Artist rises high enough to achieve the Beautiful, the symbol by which he makes it perceptible to mortal senses becomes of little value in his eyes, while his spirit possesses itself in the enjoyment of the reality. (As quoted in “Hawthorne and His Mosses” (1851) by Herman Melville)
  • The greatest obstacle to being heroic is the doubt whether one may not be going to prove one’s self a fool; the truest heroism is, to resist the doubt; and the profoundest wisdom, to know when it ought to be resisted, and when to be obeyed. (The Blithedale Romance (1852), chapter 2)
  • It contributes greatly towards a man’s moral and intellectual health, to be brought into habits of companionship with individuals unlike himself, who care little for his pursuits, and whose sphere and abilities he must go out of himself to appreciate. (The Scarlet letter)

 

Few of my favorite write-ups written by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Nathaniel Hawthorne (4 July 180419 May 1864) was a 19th-century American novelist and short story writer, best-known today for his many short stories and his romance novels The Scarlet Letter, The House of the Seven Gables, The Blithedale Romance, and The Marble Faun. (Wikiquote)

 

 

Ships in the sea
 
 
She swifts and squashes right over, like an essence of purity
Creating an urge of completeness in the loneliness
Raves my existence makes it belong to thee 
Is it just her nature or is she a part of me? 
 
Sometimes she forces her way in and out
I tremble and fumble way beyond 
Absorb thy harshness of using me 
Is  it just her nature or is she a part of me? 
 
The wrath of nature; the destiny call 
She falls and dies deep in may soul
Bits and pieces only left to see
Is it just her nature or is she a part of me? 
 
It can’t be helped; this is the relation that we share
Sometimes it’s love; sometimes despair 
It might be her nature but now she is a part of me
There is a reason they’re called ships and me, the sea!

The clouds smile as the silver lining glows and with the sway of the wind one can know; it’s time, the lights will flash and fade away. It’s time to approbate and embrace; the elegance of flowers and cardinal power of rain. The songs of a mermaid and chroma of the rising sun; the caramel in a chocolate and the fragrance of thy magical essence. It’s time, to get up from the sleep to sleepwell and time to bid your old self a farewell. Breathe in for love.  Breathe in for magic. To let go for thy self you hold on to someone you need. The scent of her hair; and that aura of thy care. We need it. We heed it. It’s time to vindicate your self.

It’s to time to lay your armor down. Fall in love.

(inspired by Don’t Wait – Dashboard Confessional)

Also Read: I don’t mind falling forever.

Bintan
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Once upon a time there was an Adam and then there was this ‘Eve’;
At times they acted random; otherwise they would always believe.
That there existed a Mandy and her Paddy in a parallel Universe
and lived an English Monarch with his taste diverse
“Luke, the first”, acclaimed the football player
The German, first misconceived as a Gay and now a slayer
Sebastian they called him.
I won’t make fun of him. It’s not fair.
Eve’s parallel universe would be incomplete without Cynthia
I couldn’t find a rhyme for this one so I’m writing ‘Reindeer’
She almost forgot about Mr. Lobo
The one she would ditch Adam for; her favorite hobo.
Soon, the reality and her parallel universe are going to merge
Paths of some individuals might converge or diverge
Irrespective. Tonight we party full on
In this shady yet nostalgic place called Bintan.

Past two weeks have been quite agonizing. Not because I had too much to drink or too much to work at office but because I had lost a sense of direction in what I was doing. This indeed was frantic; more like those times when women undergo emotional breakdowns. It was scary.

The obsolete reason of this ‘unplanned periodically’ behavior was Julian; The Manifesto. I had no idea how I want to put an end to these series of thoughts. It was almost endless; like the free flow of alcohol at China One in Clarke Quay.

I have tried to use my own writing style (termed as “Broken & Lost”) to construct this Julian’s Creed. Being lost; was the most simplest of the learning that I received while constructing this Manifesto. Talking about being lost; I still have no idea of “How it’s going to end”; the fact is, to such a profound concept, “thought” there is no achievable end.

Facebook Event Julian Dalbert: https://www.facebook.com/events/222160114590694/

Samsung-Next is what!

Oh! this chilly aircon; with a chill of Heineken beer froth,
then why does it feel so gushing, why does it feel so hot?
Is it time already to architect, is it the time to plot?
no more the feeling of being lost; no more being all rot
no more it is about our past; the battles that we fought
it’s time to do that binary search; work on that bubble sort
because someone once made me ask myself,”Next is fucking what?”

They were flying  The White Gang
Gliding like shurikens in the air
One could ignore the size not the sheer number of it’s pair
 
The flying white
White from a duck, the human face submitted to it’s grace
string like elements; the end of human race.
 
What was this?
This is how it started; this is how it was going to end
Be careful with that glass you don’t really wanna offend
 
Why the bang?
Bang was the sound when the weapon hit thy mighty head
It was worse than we expected; worse than what we read.
 
So white?
Encapsulated with white ammo, we wondered what was right.
I could hear the AngMo guy shout,”welcome to International Pillow Fight”.
 
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