Day of the Ogre

Aaargh! So the anti hero is back. For all the excitement over brilliance, and the moment of epiphany when everything made sense, the day after has been the day of the ogre. Too many questions. Demand for specifics. Trend Reports. Analysis. Blah!

“You are headed for brilliance”, that’s great! Care to explain what this brilliance is all about?

Now only if I could explain brilliance to the buffoon.

If I could I would.

I cannot. It’s personal. I decide I don’t want to explain. I don’t want to explain it to the alter ego which is me and I don’t want to explain to anyone else who doesn’t get it.

My buffoon is going nowhere, it will hang around for a while, sulk in some corner hoping for an answer, and head out to find another raw nerve to trigger. The others who aren’t restricted within the confines of my cranial cavity will also stick around or go. Such is life.

And that’s the reason why I work alone.

The line is worn thin from all that use, and I finally get it. A different story, for a different day. For now let’s just assume I am one of those superhero snoots who don’t believe in sidekicks.

My life has turned into an eternal dance – 3 steps forward, 2 steps back, half a step forward, back. Every time I holler in joy for a cipher cracked, the course produces a new set of codes. The closer I get to the treasure, the obstacles bigger, tower over me. These supposedly bigger obstacles however, are not very menacing any more. It’s either a purpose, now not too far from being unveiled that numbs out the fear and pushes me to march on, or I have played this game too long, worked my way through the glitches and the maze is now just a predictable set of pieces that instinctively fit in when one has worked on putting them together, too often, for too long.

Faith and a few tricks is all you need to get through. An ogre who plays devil’s advocate is a nice pet; mine does the Polly parrot perched on my shoulder calling for crackers and some things inane, as I find my way through the last of the patches on my eye.

Sometimes he’s your plain old defence mechanism, the other times an echo of the self desecrating rouge program designed to disillusion you, but most of the times he is an alternate point of view, one that keeps you from stagnating, brings you closer to you.

End of the Maze. End of the story you think? This one maybe. But surely the beginning of a newer , more exciting one. Race you to the cup .... see where the portkey takes us this time.

Electric Whips, Iron Man and Me

This isn't a movie review. Just a lowdown on what it did for me.

Don’t understand how anyone can wake up early to go catch a movie. It’s just a movie for God's sake! I did wake up though, yesterday was my first - the first show of a movie on the first day of screening, and what a first! I walked out of multiplex, with a skip in my step and a wide grin pasted to my face. Don’t remember the last time I was exhilarated by a movie like this. Don’t remember the last time I was ecstatic about anything like this.

My senses are all cranked up as I hear the whips crack in my head. Iron Man 2, with its brilliance and its flaws has left me very inspired.

I have seen creative genius before. Many films out there, alternate universes, trailers of the potential that is, a life that can be. A book is probably a better trigger to my imagination, it gives me the creative liberty to do what I want with the story, go as big and loud as I want to and I am not restricted by another’s vision. A film like this once in a while however does more than it was meant to do. A visual treat with its double dose of brilliance - the brilliance of a reality created by special effects you want to be a part of and the brilliance of characters. Characters that you cannot take your eyes off, characters that leave you wanting for more.

Whip lash aka Ivan Vanko aka Mickey Rourke leaves me stunned. A genius of a character and very misunderstood, at that. Like many geniuses out there, gone to waste over an inane lost cause. The grace of a man of that bulk cracking his electric whips to a beautiful dance. I want to play the whips like him. Feel the power, be one with it.

And of course, then there is the Oh so narcissistic genius of Tony Stark aka Iron Man aka Robert Downey Jr. Very few people who can be narcissistic like he is, and be loved for it. Anyone who recognises the brilliance within is allowed to be proud, he better be proud. I do not understand humble brilliance. Well, I do understand it, but it’s not for me.

I am a borderline narcissist and I don’t know how to say that without the pejorative hue that comes with it, but I am very proud to be one. Don’t know how one evolves like that when the programming is to live modestly, be humble, and stay within limits. But I am probably one only because of the program. To never forget the humble beginning, but to also not believe in limits anymore. Not made to be mediocre.

Ever felt power that left you overwhelmed, scared and in awe of the brilliance all at once? I am in search of that exuberance. In search of the electric excitement, triggered by the whip lash, I want to crack along and feel that power every moment of my existence.

I know what I want to be when I grow up Mommy... I want to be Tony Stark and I want to be Whiplash, all rolled into one. I want Brilliance.

I'm the super hero just out from my coma. Struggling to remember my super power. Learning to be the super hero I want to be.

What's the Point?

It’s a difficult task putting yourself in someone else’s shoes.

When you have a point of view, about something, or everything, the world around you with a different view is usually a bunch of morons who cannot think right. So even if you learn to not throw your disgust into the other person’s face, the sniggering oaf in your head gloats about its super intelligence and ability to see what no one else can see. The others, who haven’t learnt the art of keeping the oaf in hiding, just get down and dirty, sling some mud, have a fist fight.

The more I see these debates and hear the endless arguments – good and bad, right and wrong, I can’t help but grimace over the fact, how pointless they are. And no! Not an argument for my point of view here; it’s just a point of view, as right or wrong as any other.

As hard it is prancing around in another’s shoe, it's worse when the shoe feels as good as your own. What a dilemma once you start seeing a point in the pointless, and the point being, how pointless it all is. The realization that while you see a tree, someone else can only see the sea. All reality, just a different window. In the thick of a battle, when one has a point of view to defend, how does one react to the army of arguments disappearing in thin air? What does one do when there are no more battles to fight?

I do not know when battles became a purpose of life and I do not know how and why people became so toxic, so destructive, but I do know that while I ramble away, trying to make a point it’s already all pointless. I do not have a fight left in me. The oaf in my head has long gone, and a void remains. Echoing an argument that was, the demons slain.

What more does one say to add to the pointless, to make it less point-less!? Just be, and let them be.

Black Sheep, White Sheep, All the Right Sheep

I am made in the Image of the Big Guy they say, and I am not questioning that fact. Although, for a long time now, I have felt the complexes of being the underperforming child of a brilliant parent.

I should have made it big by now! I should have invented that super gadget that changed the history of the world! Learnt to teleport ! I should have mastered telepathy at least!? The last 9 years were supposed to be different. I was to be Popular, Rich and Famous by now!

Wait! WAKE UP CALL ... Aren't you all of that already?

Well alright, let me rephrase - I am more Popular, Richer and more Famous than I was, but not as much as I imagined in my head. The bright side though, my journey hasn't ended yet. Being popular, rich and famous however doesn’t matter anymore. I have wandered away from the herd. I am on a path to find me.

The non conformist is born, not because he wants to be different, but because conforming does not make sense anymore, because he realizes he does not know how to conform.

From my side of the fence, I believe it’s easy to conform. The herd works well with the set rules – Sit, stand, baa, bleat, bull. You program once and program well, you now have a herd that will work by the program, no questions asked for many generations to come.

Contrary to popular belief, being a Non conformist is a difficult task. When one strays from the norm of the herd, there are no points of reference, no road signs, no data...most importantly no one there when you look over your shoulder, to nudge you and tell that everything will be fine.

You either follow the system or get branded as the one who will never succeed and branded you will remain until you don’t find your personal herd that will follow you blindly off the cliff without a bleat!

While you learn to have faith (almost blind that!) in the Big guy, in yourself and the infamous gut, you are left with only yourself to follow. This is a lonely road. So you wander, and wander some more hoping to impress, with some radical, with some charm, with a promise of a land so perfect, so far away.

Here begins another vicious cycle. The non- conformist creates an army of conformists. Some water under the bridge, the faith in real has turned into slavery; mind restricted by rules, objective a blur. Zero maintenance. The assembly line is working like a dream. No one questions anymore, no one feels. Repeatability and Reproducibility is the name of the game.

There is always a herd out there that will provide you with the security blanket and accept you as their own. This, till your anomalies act up and then you’re on your own once again akin the pied piper leading little children and Rats down the cliff, and some nicer places.

An anomaly,that's what I've become. A world running at break neck speed. Emergency brakes. Collisions. I have survived the crash. Now to cruise along in my power saver mode, taking life as it comes. No more screeches in my head, no more rusty wheels. Happy times.

A system can only survive when the constants overpower the dynamics. This system of the blinded herds is on the verge of a collapse. The so called “anomalies” are increasing everyday. This time will go down in history, as the time when the will to live free was larger than the safety of a security blanket. A time, when large masses chose to be happy, and took responsibility for their own personal happiness and it didn't matter whether you were Red, Black or a Blue Sheep, for you were happy being just that. The time has come.

Sleep In Peace

The line at the edge of my world is blurring. The fortress separating my real from surreal has been compromised. I live a dream, I am numbed, as I bob amid crass and perfection.

The struggle has come to an end. No more kicking. No crying for Justice. The soft sobs resonating in my head, a reminder of tears that long went dry, a reminder of the world that was, a world I knew, fast falling apart.

I can slice a piece of denseness around me. An illusion of peace, a barricade to all that resonates, the agitation and excitement alike.

What do I do with a slice of dense something? Sell peace in a Box?

If I was selling peace in a Box, if the concept was remotely possible, would you buy it!?

Are you ready for peace? Isn’t Peace stagnating? Isn’t Peace Boring? Would it be jumping the gun, to buy peace in a Box and never really know what colourful experiences the Agitation and Excitement would bring to you? Choose the blue pill from the Matrix fame, let the story end, live in your nut shell of a world, and believe in Peace or whatever you want to believe.

It is exciting to see glimpses of peace through the clouds of chaos in my head. I know though, I am not ready for the Permanence yet, not ready for that kind of calm.

Choosing such peace is choosing death, for nothing else can bring that peace. The day I have learnt it all, seen how deep the rabbit hole goes and my purpose met, is the day I will sleep in peace.