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It was probably the rain or simply the walk home or the gentle patter gleams on tar roads. Anyway, I decided that I should start a diary about the marathon.
I started today on a sleepy note. I worry that each day may start this way. I was up for a five mile run. The weather looked rather gloomy. It looked like a tired earth that was waking up and rubbing its eyes. I brushed my teeth until I heard it squeaking and ate my old ye’ faithful granola bar. I was all set to run but I had just woken up too early! So I just patted myself away to doze off for a couple of minutes. As the entropy of time might have it, the minutes drifted away in excess of what I should have slept. I rushed to destination Alma mater thinking that I would perhaps be the only one running. It looks like others thought the same way too. Stretch, stretch, pant pant. It seems to be the only words ringing in my mind while I run. So aweseome foursome decided to break the five mile barrier today. If running is fun, I think today was a great example of that. I’m rather disappointed that I didn’t pick up the one cent coin on Florida and Fourth. But that’s alright. I’m sure there are others that are waiting for me at vending machines and parking lots.
I wanted to write a story for a long long time now. Somehow I cant seem to get myself to do that. Is introspection the key? I remember O.Henry saying that stories are hidden everywhere. I looked under my pillow but none seem to be around.
I like decadent brownie, not because of the brownie itself but the charm of the word ‘decadence’ . The word has a fascinating sound to it. A slight hiss as the word tapers away. I wonder what it exactly means. So I look it up.
The word means degeneracy. Its funny that words sometimes mean things that they aren’t supposed to. Doesn’t decadence invoke a sense of grandeur? A royal standing of sorts. Someone chose that it not be the case.
Mozart plays in the background. Symphony no.35. It isn’t my favourite. But it will have to do for the moment.
I have to run five miles tomorrow. Do the math. its a lot of miles. Not if you are a python though. Funny that I read recently that a python tried to swallow an alligator in Florida.
Florida always seems to be a state of anamolies. Be it the year 2000 or the year 2007.
My new liking for music is Jazz/Blues and an obvious first pick in this category was Louis Armstrong. I think I’m going to like this a lot. It leaves me in a pensive state, a fading world and darkening sky. I couldn’t help writing about the lyrics of a song called: Just a Gigolo
There will come a day
youth will pass away
then what will they say
about me
When the end comes I know
they’ll say just a gigolo
as life goes on
without me
For some reason, the fact that life does indeed go on without me made me sad. The inconsequence of existence.
(To read the rest of lyrics of the song, click the following link)
The voice of the people. I should perhaps write more about this. Politics in Venuzuela is very interesting:
On the completion of Harry Potter, I find myself quite excited to continue to the next and the next. It is at this point of time that I can start hearing the voices of many of my friends saying ‘I told you so’. Something I like more than talking about movies is talking about books. Reading Harry Potter instigates this web of thoughts where I cant help but see and draw similarities to things that already exist in popular culture.
Dumbledor is disappointing at the very end where he hints at knowing about the course of events. It reminds me of the Oracle in Matrix who can sometimes be very annoying. Something else I didnt like towards the end was the fact that Harry does away with Quirrel with his powers of love or something vague of that sort. I wish J.K. Rowling could have been a little more imaginative at that point. Considering she was fabulous all through the book, it was a spot of disappointment to me.
The sense of adventure, thrill and suspense that she brings to the book is fantastic. Her sense of keeping sentences as uncomplicated as possible makes the book highly accessible. Its no surprise that kids can stick to the voluminous size of her books. Magic is always good. It captures the imagination of all ages. Perhaps this has to do with the fact that anything that disobeys the laws of physics is something which fascinates humans. Its surprising that I wrote about Crystal maze in one of my earlier posts and then I end up reading of Harry’s adventure to retrieve the Philosopher’s stone. It all seems so familair! Oh well, its off to book two for me now.
As much as I want to keep reading occasionally reality reminds me that work beckons. It is at this point of time that I so wish I had a spell for my Ph.D.
Life has few ‘thrills’. I mean thrills of the sort that one gets on a roller coaster. I think one needs to work in an organization such as the CIA to experience the chills and thrills of nick of time. Of course, this isnt possible and hence i make do with those in everyday life. Finally I have finished all my finals for this semester. Submission was at the end of the day and I turned it in at 11.58 PM. It was a moment shrouded in great excitement as I hit the ‘Send’ button. Now, I actually know what James Bond feels like. Lets just call me 007 shall we and I can only hope none of these numbers are a representation of my grades!
Many years ago there used to be a game on the Star network called Crystal maze. I’m not sure why it whizzes past my mind now. However somewhere deep in my cerebral lobe, it has sheltered itself agains the vagaries of time. Anyways the poetry apart, crystal maze is a game of skill and mental ability to find the crystal. Its actually the tag line for the series itself. It involved some young folks and a Patrick Stewart type host who used to lead them from one maze to the other. The game had all kinds of puzzles and props and the idea was to beat the clock to solve them. It reminded me a lot about how I would imagine 16th century England to be like- full of dunegons and dragons. I wouldnt have been surprised if one popped out in the middle of the series. Knowing my age then, I would have probably clapped as the dragon ate someone’s head off! Anyways, if you dont beat the clock you are doomed to the chamber for life (or until the game ends)
The puzzles used to be quite fascinating to see and i remember trying to build something of that sort. Of cours it involved a series of switches that finally lead to a ball rolling into my hand. It was rather pointless and I cant understand why I displayed such a great extent of juvenile delinquency.
Its funny to see how the conept of contests on TV has changed and has become less and less intellectual and more to do with either beauty or strength or a strange mutant form of perseverance. Right from reality TV of the sort of Big brother, where it seems like the aim of the show is to be as bitchy as possible, to American idol where charisma and persona helps, or one of those shows where eating cockroaches or worms causes an adrenaline rush, I wish more shows of the sort of Crystal maze came around. And of course, in the midst of the maze one could hope that the Patrick Stewart look alike would say – ‘Beam me down Scottie. I have a dragon to kill!’
Ever since I started reading Harry Potter, I have started feeling that the charms of being a wizard. I have this compelling desire to turn every monkey I see into a rabbit and make my tooth brush do my dirty work. Dirty work in this case obviously being squeaky clean teeth. Of course to venture into talking about why I like my teeth is an indulgence that I cant afford at this time. It feels strange to read Harry Potter when the whole world is already done reading and analyzing the book, cover to cover and beyond. It makes me feel rather nervous that this is a book that I have to like. So far I must admit that I have taken a natural liking to it. It stems mostly from my affinity to children’s fantasy. I enjoyed Enid Blyton in my younger days and loved her wonderfully affable characters. The Faraway tree series is something that made a huge impact on me. I can particularly remember Moonface and Saucepan Man. Enid Blyton was perhaps not so innovative in her choice of names. Obviously, Moonface was moonfaced and Saucepan man had an obsession for saucepans. This is an avenue in which J.K. Rowling scores brownie points like no other writer. There is charm and panache in every name she chooses. Her sense of imagination is brilliant. Station nine and three quarters, diagon- alley??? I particularly enjoy the choice of Diagon alley. Each one of us has probably used this word while studying geometry a zillion times but never saw the alley in it. It always was the straight line that went across the edges of the square. Of course now I can write a book Mathematic Alley, Probab Alley but they will all be by lanes in Diagon Alley!
I think there is a conspiracy related to my ipod playlist. How could the Pink Panther theme be followed by Schindler’s list and then lead to John William’s Jurassic Park theme. Lets see if I can capture the essentials of the irony.
The Pink Panther theme is a Jazz/Blues piece which brings the idea of Peter Sellers to the frontal cortex of the brain. Of course either that or you need to think about a pink animal that walks upright and looks like a cosmopolitan panther.
Schindler’s list makes me think of dead Jews. Its a beautiful piece almost destined to be played on the piano and emmanates feelings of hope to humanity
Jurassic park= Dinosaurs
Frank Sinatara has panache like no other singer has. The depth of his voice and the mushiness of the lyrics make you almost believe that things like love actually exist. Excuse the momentary blip of cynicism. He has this sense of idealization of such emotions in his songs. I cant imagine who would actually come up with a line like:- “I won’t dance, don’t ask me….”
As much of as one is tempted to express sarcasm and say ” I won’t” , Sinatara’s style takes it to a whole new level. The other song which strikes me as being particularly bad but again, one where Sinatara saves the day is ” Fools rush in”
“Fools rush in where wise men never go
but wise men never fall in love
so how are they to know”
Incidentally it echoes sentiments of a famous Alfred Tennyson poem:
” I hold it true what’er befall
I feel it when I sorrow most
it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”
Lets see if I can add some icing to this:
“Oh black box of love
full of darkness and grief
why do I yearn to see
such monstrosity”
Hmmm thats a new style of poetry called gothic poetry. I’m kind of starting to like this.
