21 December 2012

Mythos - Update

Going on slowly. Word count for the day is at an embarrassing 300, but did a lot of research today on things that are not even that important for the book. Spent most of the day researching Egyptian & Slavic Gods.

Running into roadblocks here and there. But moving forward with each of them.

From a Croatian folk song on Perun - an old Slavic God - that's been running again and again in my head.

"...He grabbed three golden apples
And threw them high into the sky...
...Three lightning bolts burst from the sky,
One struck at two young grooms,
Another struck at pasha on a horse,
The third one struck six hundred wedding guests,
Not an eyewitness left
Not even to say how they died."

Modifying Griffith's legendary translated words used to refer to his Hindu version,
"He, Oh men, is Perun."

Another one on Amun:
"The Lord of Thebes spends not a whole day in anger; His wrath passes in a moment; none remains. His breath comes back to us in mercy..May your ka be kind; may you forgive; It shall not happen again."

I must add that I am so tempted to make it a book of poetry rather than a novel.
Some of the these poems I come across physically affect me!

08 December 2012

I'm Back

In the last few weeks, I had been deeply disappointed with myself.

When I looked into the mirror, I saw a depressed workaholic with no regrets, not sure about what he was doing or what he wanted to do. He was always looking to eat something or the other like the Panda. Was I upset? This was not the Aswin I'd known for the last two decades.

So, as I take the break to write (or at least start writing) my book, I am scared. I find it difficult to write - enjoyable, but difficult - after eight months of excel sheets. I looked at my edited story line and I didn't like to myself. I was not going to write that.

I missed the old me who would have no difficulties whatsoever when it came to writing. MS Word and Songs in the background were all I needed to live my life. Some food now and then, yes, but it was hardly a necessary condition.

So, when today, after packing bags,  calling cab and everything for my trip to a friend's wedding, when I decided to call it off at the last minute to make it to a meet tomorrow, I realised that I was once again the old, indecisive, go-with-the-flow me, not the 'but this is not supported by data' me. All this after I'd shaved after a zillion days and pressed the shirts for probably the first time since my parents left to visit my brother.

I'm back.

PS: The two friends who are getting married in the next two days might kill me on seeing this post. Neither read blogs, so I should be okay. Others who know them, sssshhh!

26 November 2012

The One With the Untold Story

The Greatest turning point in any guy's life is something he never talks about.

It's usually a love story.
Seen a million movies, I have.
It's rarely a Win, but mostly a Loss. Or Worse.

'What could be worse?', you might think,
'...and how does it affect him?'

In the same way it happened.
Or, in this case, didn't.

He obsessed, He dreamed,
He changed, He surrendered,
He believed...But then,
It never happened.

Nothing ever happened.

His obsession mocked him from beyond his reach...
Drugs laughing at a dizzy addict.
His dreams shattered, rocking his very existence.
The pieces were lost.

After all this, he couldn't even identify himself.
Of course, Sherlock, He had changed.
The one in the mirror was not him.
This was a person he'd hoped she would like.

It's a sad, sad story, yes.

Life, to him, has been on Mute since.
He'd lost his sound track - Her.
Oh, She didn't even know!
She doesn't know...or so he hopes.
The alternate possibility eats him from within.

A seemingly insignificant pebble was thrown at his heart once.
It broke him. Entirely.
His willingness to fight.
His willingness to live.

Now, he breathes in.
And Out.
But he does not live.
He feels nothing.

08 October 2012

Medieval Dreams.

Around 1995, I used to imagine that things would go back to medieval times - and people would fight with swords and shields again - that I would rule an ever expanding kingdom - with a couple of friends ruling neighbouring kingdoms - that every honest citizen of my kingdom would be happy - that I would have this majestic white horse, Chetak, the very image of which would bring hope to friends and fear to enemies - that I would have this uber awesome Queen by my side and we would rule most of the country some day. You know, every hero on screen had a girlfriend, or ended up with one. 

It was my Destiny. I was sure.

Around 1998, I thought I would be the person who would end up inventing the Light Saber. No one else seemed to care much about the infinite potential that the single invention would have. First, I had to create the laser guns used in the movies and then, the Light Saber would be a necessary defence mechanism and the Jedi way a necessary way of life. It amazes me to think how I believed that I would actually change the way the world worked.

I was destined to change the world. I knew that much.

Around 2002, I started filling school notebooks with stories. Stories that would happen in my dreams, that I would see on the streets that no one else cared to observe, that would be exaggerated a little to add that thrill or drama, that usually involved a bad ass villain, an honest hero and how one of the two overcomes the other. It wasn't necessary that the good guys won. I was a Darth Vader fan and I gave an equal chance to the villain. I controlled what I wrote.

I'd decided I'd settle for an Agatha Christie-like popularity instead of riding to war on Chetak. Sounded safer and a lot more peaceful.

These old thoughts, I think they were pushed to some unused area within my brain. There are loads of such areas, by the way. When I fell upon the facebook profile of the Commander of my Infantry units from 1995, it all came rushing back to me.

The Human Brain has infinite capacity for data and...hope. 
It's a shame we all prefer to get a monthly salary instead.

18 September 2012


Yea, yea, I have not blogged for a really long time now.

For all this while, I was waiting for something interesting to happen in my life. Given I spend most of my time at office or working outside office (from home, coimbatore and the like), there was nothing to blog about.

Wait. I am not sure if I am allowed to blog about work, but then, I'd not be interested in doing that anyway.

So what happened today, you ask?

Yet another accident from which I escaped with little to no spilt blood. The autorickshaw in which I was travelling was not as lucky.

A cab rammed into us from behind and I was thrown forward to the driver's seat - the driver hit his head on the front glass and the autorickshaw crashed into the median, shattering the glass. The vehicle, of course, is no longer fit to be driven.

I am mildly surprised that my laptop and phone are still working. 
Manage-able 'Spinus Painus' for now, but relispray would take care of it, no?

02 August 2012

What the World needs...

...is a little more inspiration.

I've decided to get inspired from anything I can take an inspiration from.

No, no, I am not talking about lifting music off another album and calling it an inspiration. I'm talking about discovering and re-discovering the endless possibilities ahead of us to make this the awesom-est time to stay alive.

Get Inspired. Stay Inspired.

Here's to fun.

29 July 2012


After like three months, my mind has started rejecting the notion of working through weekends.

In fact, as we speak, it's refusing to look at the numbers I generate on the screen.
Not good news for the guy who wants to stick to a job.

'No, Sir', says my mind. 'Go Read a Book. Or better, write one'.

Still wondering if I should control my thoughts or let it control me. Also, I am not sure if these are actually two different things.

Conflicts. Choices. Decisions. Life.

01 March 2012

Normal and Beautiful

To know what it was, he had to know what it wasn’t.

It wasn’t magical. It wasn’t the once in a lifetime event that would serve as the spark for the rest of his life. It wasn’t the story for the classics section, or for any other section in that huge bookstore he knew. It wasn’t a story to even be written, for alas, no one else might find it engrossing enough. It wasn’t the fairy tale he had imagined it would turn out to be. It was just normal.

He had talked to her a few hours back. He had planned every word he would have to speak to impress her, carefully considered answers to every possible reply she could come up with and all that, but had slid into that beautiful ride called spontaneity. He couldn’t care less about the actual content of the conversation, though it could have entailed a long, slow, lone death, several years from then. He couldn’t care about what she would think of him either. 

For when he was around her, he could care only about her.

He had always wondered what a perfect life would have. Inclined perfectly for comfort in that corner of his apartment’s terrace back in the coastal city, he would get lost among the stars and merge into the past, the future or the imaginary. He was particular about having that griffin and that wolf for pets. He thought nothing could be cooler. He wanted the weather to always remain what it was at sunrise, with that cool breeze, wondering if the solar energy would be enough to grow all the fruits he wanted in his own garden. He wanted magic to be real, with spells, telepathy and telekinesis just some more subjects to study in primary school. He loved silence and thought no sound can be better. He wanted life to have a melodious but rich theme in the background, to which he could dance whenever he wanted. He wanted people to all be the same, all being kind and courteous to others in word and mind.

In that one conversation with her, his idea of what the perfect world should be changed entirely. He thought it really didn’t matter what the world had. What mattered was what the world would feel like. Right then, he felt as content as he would if he had all of those wishes from childhood and more. All that his world needed was her smile – and everything else just became perfect.

It was just another conversation, a conversation he could have had with anyone else. It wasn’t about love. It wasn't about how they would live happily ever after in infinite care and unbelievable understanding for each other. It was talk that lasted more than a few seconds and less than a few minutes. He didn’t even remember what he had talked about. All he knew was that she enjoyed talking to him as much as he did talking to her. He knew it. He felt it. That was all that mattered to him.

He could not bring himself to believe that he had lived in this world all along. He was sure everything had changed. Suddenly, reality was more beautiful than every world he had ever imagined.