The happyness of pursuit

Disclaimer: this article is not to be generalized to every relationship. It is just what the author has mostly seen happening. Also it shouldn’t be related to the author herself.

Before I broach the subject of my article let me clarify this has nothing to do with the marvelous movie with the miss-spelt emotion. So all you Will Smith fans can take the back seats or consider this:
Almost all college puppy-love-stories can be described in 6 words in the respective sequence – pursue, impress, love, reality check, survive and part. Now there I am not entitled to a prejudice such as ‘a pessimistic heart-broken woman just used like a toilet paper by her boyfriend’ because I, being able to understand the happiness that lies in persuasion, am quite content with my love life, thank you. Honestly, if Jenny hadn’t died a tragic death in the famous Love Story she would’ve been waiting at a bus stop to be picked up by the now forgetful Oliver thinking, “Where have those days gone when he used to be standing here with a rose in his hand?” Well all you Jennys, those were the happy days of persuasion when you were a hard-to-get-love-of-some-guy’s-life. This makes me wonder what part of a relationship do guys long for and what makes women dance with joy? Men are happiest in pursuing the love of their life, while women love to be pursued by men; the Y in happyness stands for yearning for men while for women it is to be yearned for.
Pursue, chapter 1:
In all those situations where it’s the guy who makes the ‘first move’, he runs from pillar to post to sweep the lady off her feet. The guy would call up at odd hours or drop a sweet message in between classes only to imagine the lady blushing out of all the flatter. He would walk her home even if the sun hasn’t set or save her favorite seat for her by reaching the class way ahead of time, although he wouldn’t give a dime to attending classes otherwise. And all those nervous lies blurted out to impress her like, “I hate coffee” when you can’t do 30 minutes straight without a cup of espresso; all those records bought to make her realize that you share the same tastes in music even though you hate pop, yes, I know it sound just like out of some movie but its just your best friend’s story honestly, or maybe your own.
Impress, chapter 2:
After days, weeks or sometimes month’s exercise of buying a bouquet of blue carnations every morning and dropping them at her doorstep the boy finally wins the girl’s heart and the girl finally succumbs to the small warm feeling blossoming in her bosom after all those things you did to make her feel like the most special girl in this universe. She slips a ‘yes’ at that lavish pocket-burning proposal-dinner you take her to. She, oh terribly in love, then goes and tells her roommate about her new relationship status and you, oh so terribly in love, borrow your next week’s allowance from your roommate.
Love, chapter 3:
Now the girl has no second thoughts about what she has for you; she never questioned you feelings for her anyways. All those questions from friends, “are you serious about him?” get an affirmative answer with a huge smile (whatever that means). A lot of things are obvious now, you two would come to college together, would have lunch together, would go for movies together, would have coffee (No, she hates coffee remember?), would talk each other to sleep at night and do all of this again the next day. Eventually, breathe into each others’ lives. Friends are there only to hang out when your boyfriend has to attend some inevitable family function.
Reality Check, chapter 4:
Oh come on! It can’t go on like this. The girl still thinks herself to be a sleeping beauty waiting for her prince to come and give her a wake-up kiss. The girl still imagines a bed of roses marking her path to the classroom, of course arranged by her love. Snap back to reality, not only is there no bed of roses; the routine calls have reduced in frequency. Those occasional text messages spelling I Love You’s have become rare. Girl, we ain’t living on cloud number nine. We ain’t one Soul two Bodies. Let each body deserve a soul.
Survive, chapter 5:
Survive isn’t exactly what this chapter be named. Sacrifice is more appropriate. That is just what both of them claim to be doing. Sacrificing things to appease each other; what for? The girl starts listening to songs that go like I-thought-I-heard-you-call-my-name, I-was-always-there-for-you or why-did-I-lose-my-mind? The guy’s playlist is no better – I-don’t-love-the-way-you-love-me, how-beauty-can-be-deceiving or walking-with-a-broken-heart. Need I say more?
Part, chapter 6:
This should not happen at all. Anybody can initiate the closing ceremony; if the girl decides to tell the guy that “maybe you don’t love me anymore” or the guy tells her that “I have to move on in life, look for a meaning to it”. Whatever. Bye.
The sheer adventure of doing something, anything for that matter, to chase what you want gives guys some sort of pleasure that surpasses the pleasure derived after achieving the goal. On the other hand, there is nothing more pleasing to a girl than a guy (more are welcome) swimming against the tides of the world only to reach her. The rest is quite insignificant. The real happiness lies only in pursuit.
But this is not enough to sustain a relationship…did I just sound like a shrink? Whatever.

Spirit

The principle of conscious life or a strong distilled alcoholic liquor, I am intrigued by this word. An abstract thing and a liquid very volatile and quite with mass and energy are addressed by the same word. Spirit - disposition or attitude in terms of vigor, courage, firmness - strong or meek. There you go, another meaning to it - something altogether new. Not really. Do all of them mean the same??

Spirit is used on wounds, to clean up the mess. Make the object pure and free of any vibes - good, bad, ugly, lovely, sweet, bitter, sour...any. Pick up a bottle of spirit, drain it down your throat. If you can't bear the bitterness on your tongue then learn to do so. This would help in the cleaning of your tongue. All the promises that you swore you'd never break - washed. Let all the taste buds get washed away - tasteless. You can feel the fluid burn your chest and drop into your empty stomach. Period.

Our spirit stirs. I believe the only thing that the liquid spirit does to us is give more inertia to our inner spirit. Now the catch lies in where does the inertia take us. Inertia doesn't take us anywhere, it just goes with us. No looking back. Thats where our third meaning of spirit comes - meek in spirit or 'that's the spirit!'?? Whichever path you tread, you'll keep moving on it because of the inertia that you have gained. It is upto you now - going helically upwards into a blissful trance or drowning spirally downwards into a blinding darkness that even sucks at vacuum!

Spirits...what can i say...

Preposterous Soliloquies

People think of me to be mad to enjoy some weeks of my year living virtually alone, but i believe it is nice to spend time with yourself where it is you who does the asking and it is you who answers too. and if you aren't one of those ubiquitous self contented yet charlatan souls who nag themselves, "how could you even think of the S word?!" (i mean sex. "how could YOU say it!?!!), you would realise how much can your mind TALK. And on top of that, talk SHIT.
If I am left to myself for one hour, here is how my soliloquy would sound - ugh..why am i writing all this shit anyways...as if they care...and even if they do either they would breathe a sigh of relief that they are not the only socially pervert souls that dare to think of the obvious or they would disown any kind of association with me...they might delete all the previous comments of theirs too...chuck the comments...speaking of the girls here...what are they trying to tell me..."you woman, you should be completely ashamed to not wear the dress as it is supposed to be worn (as if i am wearing my jeans on my head!), what about the dupatta? the 'flab-india' suits... you think you can woo the guys here by showing your bare bosom?! (oops not literally!) And what is with the blue nail color on your feet?! despicable! disgraceful! And don't even dare think we bear anything even close to envy in our pure (read pitiable) souls, for we have learned everything from the old and tested school of thought"...like i am dying to sleep with the guys here....and what's with THEIR look..."lady don't try to flatter us with the 'dilli' look"...whatever that means...ugh embroidery on the jeans....and that too on strategic places...does the embroidery mean "kiss my ass"??..... because i feel like kicking them....not for adorning that ubersexual pink, but for scratching their balls in pubic...look there are somethings that everyone does (ok not scratching their balls. females dont have any....no sorry perhaps...) like picking on their ears and noses, etc but its better to do these things in the confinement of your room with no other human (except for someone who just can't help being around in your desperate moment) around....that reminds me of one line i read in an aeroplane..."toilet at rear"....hahaha....it sure is....and then that threat in my toilet..."dont wet the toilet pan, or else i ll complain to the chief warden"....cheap warden...i have stopped using it altogether....why don't they have toilet papers...where did i read a guy saying "sanitary papers stay in place because of the slimy mucus"...gosh....theres a string of bullock carts on the road...moving on their own slow pace...man i can walk faster than them...does that mean i dont bullshit?...or i bullshit faster than them...how can the guy say fuck and not sex...maybe he is going to grow up to be one of those serial rapists..."do not walk on the grass. think you"....oh they mean thank you .... why does that rhym with kink you...a lot of things sound same...knocking of heavens door...pooping on the kitchen floor....quit playing games with my heart...quit burning candles with my fart....blah....my roommate keeps mommying me...even my mommy did not mommy me that much (not literally!)...."dont take a bath after your meal, you would have problems in digestion"...does she mean my crap wont come??...is my one hour over?????
As much as this intregues me, I am left to myself to wonder and perplex with my soliloquy.

P.S.- did you take that seriously? do i need to assure you its going through your mind as well??

an "ideal" mind is a devil's workshop

okay the devil corners you when you have nothing else to do. it takes over your complete metabolism and lets its venom flow into your blood and shatters the hour glass that was ticking taking its own slow time into boredom. phew!! while you lie virtually handicapped, succumbed to the nothingness of the moment, not even twitching your eyebrow to buzz off the mosquito inflicting that irritation on you, your sense of vision suddenly animates into a schizophrenic film on the ceiling, and for better view, even the ceiling fan would disappear (not that it was of any assistance, i can see that you are sweating). what plays on the film may be talked about later, or perhaps to keep to the title, may be talked about in another post, but the 'ideality' and not the 'idlity' of your mind is worth pondering about.
going by the definitions, something is ideal when it is working (or behaving or being used) the way it is supposed to. a concept of something in its perfection. hence an ideal mind would be one using all its grey, white, black, whatever-colored cells to the fullest. why not? haven't you realised on regular days, when the proper functioning of your mind is required you tend to feel lazy, lethargic and what not. you would doze off in the class (i have no shame in confessing i literally sleep!) when it is expected of you to listen. aren't these evident signs of imperfection? on the other hand, when there is nothing to do, sleep wouldn't come to you, rather it would evade your eyes as if it would catch some infection from them. all your energy would be channelized into reminding you of your 'emotive' past - be it those walks by the beach or the pillows wet with tears (my my!!) or those people you love giving a good time in your nightmares! THIS i consider to be the state of ideality - your concentration focused onto the movie playing before your eyes, focused like a magnifying glass, burning a hole into the paper like the sun! HA! there you can see - the devil hypnotising you into believing that your friend deserted you because she thought you were a loser, or that you would meet with an accident if you set foot onto the road, or whatever you dare not think of in your lightest times. the room becomes a thrillarium - not only can you see, you can hear (with the Dolby sound effects too!), you can feel (ouch!), you would become glib at smelling the odour of your fears too if you keep exercising boredom often.
i believe one should check a person's IQ (or SQ or EQ any alphabet followed by a 'queue') when a person is completely bored out of his wits!! not when he is to do a 'boring' questionnaire.

trying my hand on it..

this is the first time i am posting something without prior editing and thought. i wonder how would this chapter of my blog do. readers be kind and encouraging. :)