I am almost there, I've come close to deciding what to write about. No, it'll not be about how I struggled to decide what to write, I think i've already done that. I've not posted that on the blog - that's another thing. My search is beyond just the search for the right topic. Things were all messed up in my mind. I could have written something about everything that came to my mind. I chose not to. It would not solve the crisis. I, instead of picking a part of the mess, preferred to be part of the mess. Now, I am in mess, I am mess. . . more like a joker. Have you ever wondered what is it to be like a joker. "While you [audience] see Joker as a joker, the Joker sees himself as a performer". Some what like a Scavenger walking through the dirt that's thrown all around the City, who picks up things that we think are useless, unfit, worthless, just to see "if the dirt is worth anything". . . .
Until the moment the joker walked into the plot, my situation was filled with Chaos. I was on the verge of diving into the mess, He became the direction. . . . The Joker did not just walk in to the plot, he was invited. What came as a pleasant surprise was the Scavenger. My plot was more or less ready and my mind was ready to take a dip into the mess, directionless. . . then out of the blue, I got a text from a friend after a long time, a conversation about the joker. I don't remember much about the conversation. I don't remember exactly who sent the part which you read. Me or my friend ? ? ? How does it matter? ? ? one of us did. . . Isn't that sufficient. Well I guess my friend sent that and as usual I was at my contradictory best, I must have sent a lot of things, one among them could be "how the joker makes us perceive himself to be" ? ? ? Well that's not important now, I knew it the moment I got the msg - I believed it was true. . . .
Joker is the alter ego of the performer.
It so happened, the joker was invited into the plot and he accepted to grace the mess. . . Just when I decided to dive into the mess and be part of it, The Joker walked the Red Carpet. . .
Warm applause, Ladies and gentlemen.
In fact he deserves much more than just that but that's all we can afford. May be we can add a li'l glitter to the occasion and click some pics of the man with the flash on. . . in the darkness that surrounds as he stepped in. . . . The joker is now a celebrity. So is the Scavenger. . . You can think of the Scavenger, once the Joker's part or Act is done with. Both are Similar. We just have to see them a a different light. Light that's deep inside Us.
Performers are both. . . . or should I be saying ALL. We will figure that out.
Now, there are three characters in this plot. One is the joker - the celebrity, the scavenger - the thinker and last but not the least Myself - the mere self. As usual I start with myself first and then may be if my mood supports the cause I shall elaborate about the joker and a li'l about the scavenger. . .
It's an early entry into the plot for all the characters. While I write about the one character, I would warn you that the other two are not going to be mere spectators. They would begin there performance too. Its up to you to see it for yourself or wait till I show you by unveiling them layer by layer. . . You are lucky for the fact that I am elaborating about myself at first, otherwise I would be playing in your minds either in the role of the Joker or the scavenger. Now I am neither, unless I say I am one of them or both of them. . . For that You'll have to wait a li'l longer.
What's the hurry ? ? ?
Let's spend some time together and know each other before we jump into conclusions about each other.
Now that I am inside the mess, let me just show you what its like. A poor amateur like myself may not be able to do justice, while attempting to brief about the mess of life. It would be fantastic for all to see it the way they have faced it. Here's my amateur way of seeing it - Its an encounter of different situations. Situations kick started at times you are unaware of, but having to confront them all at once. . . . This is the moment, which I guess can best explain mess. . . .
I like the mess to remain messy, without getting any messier that it already is. I would not fiddle with situations, they are all intertwined with each other. I would wait for each situation to crop up by itself to claim its priority. The mess can only get worse if each situation is addressed independent of the other.
The situations that form the crux of the mess, is some what like the props that the joker is using to entertain the audience. The joker pulls one out of the lot, the other erupts and you, the audience split into laughter. Here the joker's intention is only to entertain the audience, it does not mean, he is not aware of the right props to pull. In order to keep you in splits he pulls out the wrong ones all the time, all the way till the end of performance. May be its the errors that he puts up in the beginning, which is meant to be a lesson to us, mere Humans' on how to handle the situation or how not to. . .
Now as he walks through the place, where a civilized man would never intend to, with his huge bag, carrying the load of expectation, out of the waste, useless, dirty things, his eyes searching for value in all things, The Scavenger walks. . . He knows, he walks through places and things which the world has banished or discarded from being utilitarian. He's walking through the shit and is optimistic of finding something to take back at the end of the day. He's putting a value into all things he's searching, with the worth of the Time he's spending. All things he picks up are deemed useless, worthless in the civilized world. Yet the scavenger walks into the other world, picks up the very same things - adds value to their existence, He redeems them, He's the Redeemer. . . .
While I wait for each of the situations to crop up by itself to gain importance at a given point in time, I begin to understand that i have something in common with the joker and the scavenger. I've to learn to learn from both the performers to face the situations and handle the mess as a whole. All the three of us are living more like one. Every time, I face a situation, the joker pulls a prop and the scavenger picks up a thing, we are in the same state. . . We don't know what to do with it.
I continue to walk with the situation, a few more will follow or will be left behind. . . .
The joker throws one prop and moves to the next - while the audience is having fun. . . .
The scavenger picks up things, puts them in the huge bag carrying the load of expectation, with every new 'old thing' he adds into the bag, the load of expectation increases. . . The shoulders become stronger, for the belief that he's carrying is 'HOPE'. . . .
At different instances, all three of us live each others' lives. We need to take a leaf out of the others' way of living and adapt it into ours in a way we overcome the situation that demands beyond ones' self. . . .
The joker and the scavenger are not the same but similar, they are contextual figures. They both come to exist at different times in ones' lives. Now coming to the point, where i said, What am I? ? ? A joker or A scavenger. I think, with the explanation I have for my joker and my scavenger, I've come to identify myself with Who or What is apt for me. . . . Well, I won't suggest one for you either. . . For you to see, if you are a joker or a scavenger, I suggest you to define your joker and your scavenger before you decide for yourself. . . . As i told you earlier in "a light that's deep inside you". . . .
At the end of it, If I may say in the lines of Quentin tarantino, this might just be "my first masterpiece". . . .
The plot ends right up there. . . .
What's beyond this, is just an exploration to find out if the scavenger, really is a thinker. While I was writing that part of the description, I had no idea why I called him "a thinker". Then the question in my mind was so strong that it forced me into thinking all the time and now I am beginning to believe that you cannot call someone who thinks that things deemed useless, worthless in the real world, to have value- value that's beyond reasoning, just plain belief - as anybody but "a thinker". . . .
Jun 11, 2010
OK, first things first. yet another dedication. This time its not a silly one like the last. Its dedicated to her, someone who's out there reading this. I don't really know her. All I know is that she exists, she's alive and she's living. I am not a saddist, that you may think, why would i dedicate a post on exploration of/to end to someone living. . . . That's for you to figure it out.
If you're willing to read what's written further, then I would like to warn you, that you'll be at least a few minutes closer to the end.
This is one of my favourite lines from the movie "FightClub", the hollywood movie. That's rite, there's a hindi version too, this time its only the name that's stolen. May be the makers knew, its impossible to reproduce a movie of that magnitude. . . .
"This is your life and its ending one minute at a time". . . . ain't it true ? ? ? ?
my life is ending too and how, have you ever wondered. With every word that's being written, the wait in between to think of the next line, every moment i raise my head to check out that hot chick walking past me, watching that li'l kid, from the window, as he sells balloons to another kid just to earn a living, while tapping my legs and swinging my head as I enjoy the music that's being played into my ears, adding sugar to my coffee, drinking it all sip by sip without any hurry, all this while and further on till you read and finally till the very end, My life is ending, one tiny minute at a time. . . .
I am just crazy, I won't stop it at this. I will continue the exploration to find more about the end, till the end. It's not an exploration, to imagine how the end would be. I am not interested. I know it is certain. Neither am I curious to know when is the end. Somehow, deep inside me, I have this belief that says the End is Beautiful. . . .
How would one define the "end" ? ? ? ? If I were the one, I would simply - "This is it". Something after which there's nothing. I know the clock is ticking, every passing second of my life. Ever since I walked into the coffee shop, hopped from seat to seat and while I am sitting now on the stairs outside the shop, after all that you've read, My Life has come an hour close to the end. I was only trying to define the end.
I understand there's repetition, but you were not forced into reading that. You just had to, to realize that I am re narrating what was said before. What would be the fun in life if we knew what's in store for us before we lived through the moment. . . .
Just another question - How is the end going to be like ? ? ? ? I say, it would be as beautiful or as horrible as you see it. . . .
If every moment of life is inching close to the end, how is it that one can prolong the end. I don't know. . . .
The man in the sky, the myth, has never let anyone know the secret to prolong the end. . . . But the smarter ones like myself, inch close to the end, by believing that I have "lived" through those moments. All the moments while I write this - "this time I give you an option to quit reading, let me see if you take that, its repetition once again", as I think of the next line, When I check out that hot chick, While tapping my legs and swinging my head to the tunes, while I sipped my coffee, Every moment till now and further on till your read the end that i write and all the way till the very end, I will continue to Live. . . . Every moment. . . . minute by minute. . . .
As I told you a while ago, the End is as beautiful or as horrible as you see it. . . . It all depends on how well we lived those moments that brought us close to the end. What we did - 'while we lived' - if only we did Live, will define our Life as a whole and the end in particular. . . . Now looking back at those moments that we didn't live, will only make us not live in the moment and take us a li'l more closer to the end.
If you're still reading this, I hope you've lived through those moments, everytime I re said the same thing over and over again. . . . The beauty of my End would depend on "How I make You Feel" while I lived, not while I waited n slipped closer to the end. . . . The summary of one's life is "the Conclusion" that one draws from "how one lived" till the "End". . . .
How you live is upto you and this is how I know to live. . . . Now, either a li'l more closer to the end or having "Lived" a li'l longer after writing this, while you're reading this and further on, till the END. . . .
Jun 3, 2010
ಮತ್ತೊಮ್ಮೆ ಕನ್ನಡದಲ್ಲಿ ಬರೆಯುವ ಆಸೆಯಾಗುತಿದೆ. ಏಕೆ? ಏನು? ಇವೆಲ್ಲ ಉತ್ತರವಿಲ್ಲದ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳು, ಆದರೂ, ಆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳು ತುಂಬಾ ಪ್ರಮುಖವಾದವು. ಮತ್ತೊಮ್ಮೆ ಏಕೆ ಎಂದು ಕೇಳಿದರೆ, ಅದಕ್ಕೂ ಅದೇ ಉತ್ತರ, ಅದೂ ಸಹ ಉತ್ತರವಿಲ್ಲದ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ. ಇದುವರಗೆ ಬರೆದಿರುವುದನ್ನು ಓದಿದರೆ ಇನ್ನೊಂದು ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯುಟ್ಟುತದೆ. "ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ" ಎಂದ ಕೂಡಲೇ ಮನಸ್ಸಿಗೆ ಅನಿಸುವುದೇನೆಂದರೆ ಆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೂ ಉತ್ತರವಿಲ್ಲವೇ ???? ಎಂದು. ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯನ್ನು ಹುಟ್ಟುಹಾಕುವ ಮುಂಚೆಯೇ, ಆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ಇರುವುದೋ, ಇಲ್ಲವೋ ಎಂದು ಲೆಕ್ಕಾಚಾರ ಮಾಡುವುದು ತಪ್ಪು. ಇದು ನನ್ನ ವಯಕ್ತಿಕ ವಿಚಾರ. ಇನ್ನೂ ನಾ ಆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯನ್ನು ಕೇಳಲೇ ಇಲ್ಲ, ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ ಏನೆಂದರೆ - ಇಲ್ಲಿ ನಾನು ಬರೆಯ ಬಯಸುವುದು ಕೇವಲ ಉತ್ತರವಿಲ್ಲದ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳೇ???? ಆದರೆ ಈ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ನನ್ನ ಬಳಿ ಉತ್ತರ ಇದೆ. ಹಾಗಾದಲ್ಲಿ ಉತ್ತರ ಏನು ???
ಉತ್ತರ ತಿಳಿಯಲು ಎಲ್ಲರಿಗೂ ಹಂಬಲವಿರುತ್ತದೆ. ನನಗೂ ಇದೆ. ಇಲ್ಲ, ನನಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ತಿಳಿದಿದೆ. ಆದರೆ ಉತ್ತರ ಬರೆದಾದ ನಂತರ, ಉತ್ತರ ತಿಳಿಯುವ ಆ ಹಂಬಲ ಸತ್ತುಹೋಗುತ್ತದೆ. ನನ್ನ ಆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ತಿಳಿದಿದೆ ಎಂದರೆ, ಆ ಉತ್ತರ ಸರಿ ಎಂದೇನೂ ಅಲ್ಲ, ನನ್ನ ಉತ್ತರ ತಪ್ಪಾಗಿಯೂ ಇರಬಹುದು. ಉತ್ತರ ಏನೆ ಇರಲಿ, ಅದು ನನ್ನ ಉತ್ತರ. ನನ್ನ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ನಾನೇ ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಸಿದ ಉತ್ತರ, ಅದನ್ನು ತಪ್ಪೆಂದು ಹೇಳುವ ಹಕ್ಕು ಯಾರಿಗೂ ಇಲ್ಲ. . . .
ಇಷ್ಟೆಲ್ಲಾ ಸಂವಾದದ ನಂತರ - ನಾನು ಆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ಹೇಳದ್ದಿದರೆ, ಇಲ್ಲಿಯ ವರಗೆ ನಾನು ಬರೆದದ್ದಿದು, ನೀವು ಓದಿದ್ದಿದು, ಎಲ್ಲ ವ್ಯರ್ಥವಾಗುತದೆ.
ಈ ಸಮಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಇನ್ನೊಂದು ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯನ್ನು ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಹುಟ್ಟುಹಾಕಿದರೆ, - "ನಾನು ಆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ಹೇಳದ್ದಿದರೆ, ಇಲ್ಲಿಯ ವರಗೆ ನಾನು ಬರೆದದ್ದಿದು, ನೀವು ಓದಿದ್ದು, ಎಲ್ಲ ವ್ಯರ್ಥವಾಗುತದೆ - ಯೇ ? ? ?
ಈ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೂ ಉತ್ತರವಿದೆ, ಪ್ರತಿಯೊಬ್ಬರಿಗೂ ಅವರವರ ವಯಕ್ತಿಕ ಉತ್ತರ ದೊರೆಯುತ್ತದೆ. ಆದರೆ ಅವರವರ ಉತ್ತರಗಳು, ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯ ಎರಡೆನೇ ಭಾಗದಲ್ಲಿ ಮಾತ್ರ ಸರಿ ಇರುತ್ತವೆ . . . ಹಾಗಾದರೆ ಮೊದಲನೇ ಭಾಗ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯಾಗಿಯೇ ಉಳಿಯುತ್ತದೆಯೇ ? ? ? ? ಇಲ್ಲ, ಅವರವರ ಉತ್ತರಗಳು, ಅವರವರ ದೃಷ್ಟಿಕೋನದಲ್ಲಿ ಸರಿಯಾಗಿಯೇ ಇರುತ್ತದೆ, ಆದರೆ ಮೊದಲ ಭಾಗದ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ಸರಿಯೋ? ? ? ತಪ್ಪೋ ? ? ? ಎಂಬ ನಿರ್ಧಾರ ಮಾಡುವ ಹಕ್ಕು ಕೇವಲ ನಾನೋಬ್ಬನಿಗೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ಇರುತದೆ. ಹಾಗೆಯೆ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯ ಎರಡನೇ ಭಾಗಕ್ಕೆ ನನ್ನ ಬಳಿ ಇರುವುದು ಕೇವಲ ನನ್ನ ಉತ್ತರ ಮಾತ್ರ, ಅದರ ಸರಿತನ ಅಥವಾ ತಪ್ಪುತನದ ನಿರ್ಧಾರ ನಿಮಗೆ ಬಿಟ್ಟಿದ್ದು . . .
ನಾನು ಕೇಳಿದ ಒಂದು ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ಹೇಳಬೇಕೋ? ? ? ಬೇಡವೋ ? ? ? ಎಂಬುದರ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ನಾ ಇಷ್ಟು ಉದ್ದ ವ್ಯಾಖ್ಯಾನ ಬಿಗಿದರೆ, ಇನ್ನು ನನ್ನ ಉತ್ತರ ಎಷ್ಟು ದೊಡ್ಡದಿರಬಹುದು ? ? ? ಎಂಬ ಭಾವನೆ ನಿಮ್ಮಲಿ ಮೂಡುವುದು ಸಹಜ.
ಅದಕ್ಕೂ ಮುಂಚೆ, ನಾನು ಇಷ್ಟೆಲ್ಲಾ ಬರೆಯುವುದಕ್ಕೆ ಮೊದಲು, ಕನ್ನಡದಲ್ಲಿ ಬರೆಯ ಬಯಸಲು ಒಂದು ಚಿಕ್ಕ ಕಾರಣವಿದೆ. ಮನಸ್ಸಿನ ಯೋಚನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಮಾತ್ರುಭಾಷೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹೊರಹಾಕಲು ಸುಲಭ ಹಾಗು ಸಹಜ ಎಂದು, ಎಂದೋ ಒಮ್ಮೆ ಓದಿದ್ದೆ . . . ಅದೇ ಕಾರಣದಿಂದ ಬರೆಯಲೂ ಆರಂಭಿಸಿದೆ.
ಆದರೆ ಹೊರ ಬಂದಿದ್ದು ಯೋಚನೆಗಳಲ್ಲ, ಕೇವಲ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳು . . . . ಉತ್ತರವಿಲ್ಲದ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳು. "ಇಲ್ಲ. . . "