THERE IS NO TITLE! I am sad to think about one.

It’s been like 2years or so since I have jotted down something quite long, apart from micro content scribbling no other effortful matter have quenched my thirst to quest for something that the intellectually stimulating people call as qualitative. A numerous happenings took place in the span of time, a lot very painful struggles; mental, physical and financial have passed, love comes and goes, hatred stays and pokes, news timeline is trash that also can’t be ignored, the already growing intelligentsia  amongst a vast sphere is terrific but not very empathetic and kind.

In this regretful yet thought provoking pace , the most heart rendering plight have been my failed efforts to explain things, Aged 22 ,disoriented ,naive and stupid, I have been acting and reacting with zero plan. The most harsh and painful state is when you are stuck in an area that you soooo hated in particular, when you get to live with people whose mindset is what you are fighting against, to be thrashed by the one you wants to be hugged by, when you get to be laughed for being jovial, when self loathing becomes your anti depressant, this is when you need a ventilation.

I don’t understand what the experienced talk about success, I don’t understand what the successful talk about ethics, I do not understand many of the definition about things; be it denotative or connotative.

Poems are stupid, they decorate chaos in flowery and floral angle all the time, when you seek for an answer for your sad state, they tell you; Blue is the new ecstasy, they normalise pain. But when they dissent I don’t always hate them.

Paintings are for the intelligent ones they say, Nope! The rich already owns it.  There is no coming out of this; there is no escape from the system that has been ruining aesthetics.

There are words sometimes arrowed to you when somebody gets the peripheral idea about what you are, remember the ice berg theory? The way somebody looks, from their skin tone, dressing, circle that they belong to etc by just a glimpse, is listed as the privileged or non privileged, things we are unaware of, things we don’t understand are not evidences to enlist someone into the privileged category. I have been victim of bigotry, racism, sexual assault, financial issues, and an everyday struggle to breathe some unconditional love in the air; I do not want any squad to fix my title. I have mine. Prejudgements and prejudices would be chucked off anytime.

My definition of success when I was in std 6 was to successfully compile a campus newspaper and disseminate the grievances of students about the school authorities and management, I met my success from the initial appreciation for the effort to them suppressing my idea of gathering complaints against the institution. In std 9 I had the courage to stop the publication from simple praising and bragging of a money making institution. I was labelled as an empty headed stupid, a lazy chap who failed abruptly.

In std 10 I was brave enough to shout my score that was quite less from the expected, my teachers hated an 8.84 points for someone who is pretty vocal in the school, I knew me more than them so my 8.84 was the success score that ruled my diary that time. I do not have a favourite teacher, I have one that I hated so much in school, but my present goal is not a hate essay against anyone whom I least care about.

In  college too I wasn’t the privileged burger baby , being a south Indian in a place where a large mob is less racist to a cow is harder when you are also a non Hindi speaker, been surrounded with some African friends who were cool enough to mingle and stay .

When in an outer state, what you miss about Kerala is definitely the petrichor, your pet, Marx and his Comrades, some colloquial Malayalam , some shades of green, food and sometimes your family.  So, what you can do in a college with the funniest name ever, with lots of bragging and boasting about bollywood stars visiting very often, with people who think that chanting “what the fuck” 10 times in a sentence is a sign of modernity and good English, Vodka is sin but Gomutra is fine, is to ventilate the outrage in your mini research of subjects that you are sure is injustice.  Wanting to be around sensible people alone isn’t possible in any country anytime soon, we all saw what happened in the US Presidential elections, what is haha about it is that , my classmates and teachers who voted for Modi called US citizens irrational for having voted for Trump.

So yeah, like every drunkard with the 5th peg from the 4th bottle in hand says “I am sober and fine, absolutely alright”.

So when I faced issues brimming about anything and everything I learn about, I had to run back home where everything is fairytale and idiotic, whilst in reality where you stay is irrelevant and extraneous as god. It’s definitely what you do that matters. So I missed Kerala some months back, alright! I am here right now, like the grass is always greener, now I miss places I am unaware off, I do not find the petrichor very fragrant anymore, sometime it stinks too, my pet is all same and loyal even now, shades of green are fine, food is great, Karl Marx and his comrades are all here but definitely not very happy with things happening in here I suppose. Malayalam films with news value are rising day by day but also comic news channels cracks me up.

I almost got into a relationship where the guy cried and left. I called him a few minutes earlier and he said I am not too concerned of what to do in life, Duh!!! Little the guy know that every teeny tiny plan I have shared to people have either been a tintu mone joke for them and a panicky trail for me to cover up the risks that follows, little the guy know that I am trying only to be a good human and I will mourn and sob over the death of my kitten and you shouldn’t call me insane for that. My definition of sanity is different though.

Some days I eat a lot and scream at people for not keeping food ready always, some days I starve and is okay with it, like today!!!!!      . Some days I read rebellious content and stay alert waiting for the revolution, the change. Some days I crib, whine, nag, stay fragile and argue with the comrade I adore. I am opposite of me some days. Like everybody have some tinges of obsessive compulsive disorders that my psychologist friend called normal.

April had been amazing, I got a new phone and no longer feel like living in a cave, that’s when I lost all my contacts, back to the cave mode, fabulous! I downloaded kindle app, the guy who left had been wonderful in the February and March that his Marxian views and its branches instilled very good thoughts in me. Learning about Bastar was one. Kindle had been harsh to me lately, it provides sample reading materials only, but having a walking little human library like him was fun and I don’t miss that.

So beginning from what I had been I cannot say how much of a person I have grown to, Dreams have been fluctuating lately, some of them had been temporary and not fully taken form of a goal, Journalists who shout on TV are called heroes by many, whilst books on media ethics gives an idiotic grin at them, Politicians unleash demons to the society that even from the unborn child to the dead are succumbed to the tactics that the rich call normal, Lawyers lie, a lot! Judges are murdered and no one cares, Dissidents are killed and they call it normal.

But we have journos getting death threats everyday still fearlessly reporting truth, lawyers who do not want the judicial system to collapse, Judges who are vocal and are epitome of truth and justice, a large set of people who dissent, a larger collective who supports them.

 A ray of hope or a farfetched dream, anyhow this is a bad time, and majority have grown pessimistic that you can’t blame. Because, a large chunk of them; are losing hope, food, money and a roof above them, and me? I have lost all perspective and plans. The blueprint about life and happenings that I drew is now dusty and I have forgotten them all, I have grown forgetful, and do not remember how I begun this write-up even, let me scroll up and see...thus we all need a record of anything and everything to stay consistent to this game of the system, of the government, of all the foul plays and players, so that we could scroll up and see, whenever we get time! We do not actually have time, do we? That’s another trap. They have taken all the time into making us work and earn so that we breathe and survive, and they eat in bulk and live.