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Thursday, January 3, 2013

Pen Pal

"Pen pal? What does that mean?", I had innocently asked my English teacher. Having studied in different schools at different cities, I find it hard to remember when and where exactly did I ask this question, but I have a clear memory of coming across this term in a classroom - or a memory hardened by my belief of it being true. In any case, the answer came as quite a surprise to me. Never before had I thought of a friend whom you had not met; a friend whose face you hadn't seen; a friend whom you hadn't heard; but just a friend with whom you had shared your life and got only experience in return. At first the idea amused me. It wasn't only a 'pal' who hadn't seen you but also a pal who knew as much about your life as you told him (using 'him' as the gender neutral pronoun); who judged on the small portion of life that you showed him; who couldn't shout at you; who couldn't see you create a world that you wanted him to see. A pen pal offered a person to lead another life, probably the one he would like to have led, and still have a friend in that fantasy world.

Despite the appeal of the idea, I never felt excited enough to try to have a pen pal. It was less due to lack of motivation but more because pen pals appeared a thing of the past, at least until very recently.

Fast forward into the present; pen pals might still seem a thing of the past in this world of emails and Instant Messages. Take away the pen-paper based letters from the custom of pen-pals, the visits to post-office, the long wait for reply, and replace it with emails and a new culture begins to appear. A culture so similar to that Pen Pals, that it is hard to believe that it had ever left our side. I am not sure if it was me, who was unaware of its ongoing existence all this while or has this generation revived something that probably should never have been lost in the first place.

So, have I been able to create the fantasy world I imagined it would help me build? No. Why? Because the correspondence didn't begin with the intent of forming long term bonds the only evidence of which were words exchanged over the Internet. Even before I knew I had found a friend in the person typing in those alphabets from another corner of the world, I had shared enough about myself to keep the friendship real and not just based on the person I would have wanted to be.

However, I have had the opportunity to learn more about myself. Written (or typed) words offer the possibility of re-reading your own words - a definite advantage over spoken words. This let me, quite unconsciously, observe myself as a person I knew little of. It let me be the observer of my own life and watch myself narrate it to another. I have been amazed, impressed and even disappointed by things that I have written.

Wittgenstein equated the writing of an autobiography with self-discovery. I would state that a pen pal serves the purpose just fine and probably is easier to come by. In this world where a person sitting in another part of the world is only a mouse-click away, I would urge people to find a 'pen pal' that can help you discover yourself.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

How many lives have I touched?

"The question isn't who you are. The question is : who did I turn out to be ? Who am I to you ? Are faded chalk marks and scratches on the floor the only evidence that I was here., or did some scribbled note, some fragment of a proof invert your perception of the world, even confirm it, cementing what you knew in your heart to be true with the balance of left column to right? What footprints have I left behind? Do they endure, or has the ocean of discovery washed them away already? How many lives have I touched? Have I touched yours?"
    - Charlie Eppes, Numb3rs (T.V. Series)

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Any thoughts - Part 1

How do you distinguish between what you like and what you want to like ?
Irritating question, right ? I know what you are thinking, "This guy's a nut-head. What does that question even mean ?" I won't blame you for having those thoughts because I am not even certain if there is a difference, but I have only a slightest bit of doubt.

A parent wanting a boy but ending up with a girl. The girl wishing to win the parent's love and eventually living most of her life trying to impress that parent, maybe even succeeding, yet doing something for someone else's happiness.
No, no that plot is in no way related to me (you should have guessed that since I am not a girl in the first place :P ). All I am trying to do is drive home the point that there are cases where someone unknowingly forces oneself to like an activity or an outcome. But this example does have the problem that the girl really does have the desire to please the parent, which in turn leads her to accept something she might not have. (I did point out that I am just 'doubtful' of this entire thing, didn't I ?)

What I am trying to get at is what if 'some' consequence of an activity is what pleases you but not the activity itself and I am unaware of this fact ? "What's the harm of such a confusion ?", you'd ask. What if your interpretation drives you to do that activity often but get away from the consequence that you were looking for ? Would you still be happy ?


PS : As the title suggests, I intend to have this share a series of posts. If I will go ahead and share all of them is not certain, considering my laziness and a history of short-lived ideas.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

What was once mine

Once it was just a portal of my thoughts,
Now a window into my head.
Once the outcome of a long process,
Now the initiator of those thoughts.

This OUTLET, which was once an escape spot,
Is what makes me feel connected to the world.

Those particular set of eyes drive me;
I haven't seen them yet, and wonder if I ever will.
Still I am left wondering, what they make of me.
It could be yours, or just another readers.
But it is not of each set that I care;
There are some that are important to me
And for them, I am here ! 

Monday, December 5, 2011

Crucible of thoughts

Thoughts of loss and achievement,
Hope and despair;
Fear and freedom,
Love and loss.

I know not what I think,
I know not what I fear,
I know not what I want,
As it struggles to come out.


Memories of the past
Interweave with the visions for the future.
A momentary feeling of achievement
Followed by a prolonged hollowness.


Words only pollute it;
Pollute the joyous moments from the past,
Or the painful memories lost
Amidst the desire to carry on.

Only if I could share my thoughts,
Let you in my head.
Only if I could let everyone know,
And bring an end to this pain.