Reflections On…

However, today I saw a couple of people who were examples of the saying, “A face only a mother could love.”

These faces were not plain. Plain is fine. Plain is good. I’ll stop short of calling them ugly but they were… remarkably unattractive. You know… almost the sort where it’s so horrible that you can’t stop looking? But when you do look, you shudder.
And they were hanging out together…

I wonder if remarkably unattractive people figure out that their best chance at interaction is to find a similarly unattractive person to hang out with? Ooh… “Birds of a feather…” I get it…

Then there are these other kinds of friends (many times, friends made in school)… talking on IM with them is a chore, regardless of how long it’s been since we last talked.
They ask the same basic, unimaginative (and if I’m being harsh – lazy -) questions and it bores me out of my skull.
“Wassup?”, “What else?” “बाकी काय?” “अजुन काय?”   One can only answer these questions once… then they keep coming back up.
My stock answer is: “Nothing” “काही नाही”
If you’re not going to make an effort, neither am I. I’d much rather stare at nothing.

School friendships are caused by propinquity and little else. I’d say it’s rare to find someone you’re really close to in school because you truly like them. You come to like some better than others and these people stick with you. Other people are good for you… they let you vent, they lend an ear, they show you how ugly your face looks when you are being petulant. You want these guys to stick around.
Then there are those that are just… inane. Unremarkable.
Why do I call these people friends?
Why do I bother talking to them?
Unfortunately, as shallow and evil I might be, I can’t quite bring about myself to shutting them out entirely or too abruptly.
I wonder how telling these people that they are boring would work… I daresay pretty effectively… but that might just be too mean. (What happened to my being evil?)

Then there are some people who hang around me that I cannot really bother to be civil to. I have not been outright rude to them yet but I don’t hide my impatience far too much… and even jocularly, I find a way to tell them exactly what I think… without actually saying it. Call me Mr. Passive-Aggressive.

Often I get asked, “Do you miss India?”

The answer to that question would be: No.

However, it does raise other questions in me.
Why should I miss India?
Am I expected to?
Must I?

Not missing India doesn’t make me some sort of evil unpatriotic NRI, does it?

However, that’s not *entirely* true. It’s not like I didn’t have a routine in 2008 when I wrote quite a bit.
The difference between then and now is the amount of time I spend commuting and out and about.
In 2008, I had a 50 km commute (both ways). 60 minutes spent riding on a motorcyle, on a highway, is a lot of time to notice stuff and to reflect on things.
These days, my longest commute is 20min, usually 10 min (depends on mode of transportation). Not a lot happens and I don’t get to muse a lot.
When I *do* muse, it’s late at night… too late to write.
Perhaps I don’t really look at the world with enough wonder.

Be that as it may… I *do* know someone who looks at the world with enough wonder or just is clever enough to spin really interesting observations out of day-to-day happenings.

So… please head on over to http://smugant.blogspot.com to read my cousin’s blog and to keep up with his random thoughts and ideas. He might even help you broaden your music horizons.

Perhaps it appeals to only certain kinds of thinkers. I do not know.
It appealed to me. I’m not sure how differently people think from me.

It starts off on an interesting premise, can get a little dire and depressing in the middle and well, by the end when you think you have the answer and think it’s pretty impossible to stand by it, you’re shown that the answer is simpler than it seems.

It all seemed quite obscene.

Aviation’s a bit of an interest, thanks to my father’s job… yet when I see these machines…meant to destroy and dominate… it brings out a loathesome reaction in me.

There were many models of aircraft carriers out there. They are definitely marvels of technology and industry. Yet, there was one picture on the wall that talked about “90,000 tonnes of diplomacy”. What rubbish! More like “90,000 tonnes of intimidation”. All I could think of while I looked at those miniatures was: “submarines, submarines, submarines, rah rah rah!”

This is not to say that a show of Indian naval or military strength will not offend me – it would offend me just as much.

Violence is a concept I have hard time getting my head around.
I understand Darwin’s concept of survival of the fittest, yet I somehow think that would be more due to diligent use of resources than through violence. If you’re a numbskull brute who can take my resources from me, but have no clue what to do with them… how long will you last?

There were newspaper clippings about the “Jap surrender” on a wall… a replica of the Fat Boy bomb…
Military might, stories of brave young volunteers, willing to defend their country… at what cost?
Sure, Japan were no angels in this particular scenario… but they are definitely paying the price even today.

If we were not a British colony, we might not even have been drawn into the war. None of the Nazi allies reached anywhere substantial in the subcontinent. Japan probably only came to the Andamans because they belonged to the British then.

If 1857 had been more coordinated, the Partition and current strife may not have happened.
Yes, 1857 would’ve been more violent… and I don’t know how that could’ve been a good thing because I definitely cannot get my head around the concept of wanting to hurt someone…

History is written by the victors and they glorify their soldiers and their dead.

How is death glorious?

It makes me shudder.

After wondering if my travel bug had been treated in this post yesterday, I went on a pseudo road trip today and was immediately reminded of the trip I took in early June to Miami, with PD.

Good times.

I may just have caught the road trip bug… and that’s not good.

Who has the car?

And if I can find the car?

Who has the company?
And who has the time?

Solutions to these problems might lie in finding a job here after graduation and exploring the place during time off… but then… I’m getting quite excited about the idea of returning next December and getting down to work. Well, next July is meant for contacting people and scoping out opportunities… Let’s see how the dice fall…

Or should that be bull entrails?

There were a LOT of churches, catholic schools, Lutheran schools….

NW Florida seems to immerse itself into God… they must be extremely spiritual and enlightened.

Or…

Going by the number of religious buildings I saw…