stop run go

In the stock and commodity markets apparently all participants are assumed to have perfect information..so the price of a script is expect to reflect perfect information of all market participants put together.. but still prices go all over the place all the time.. so perfect information cant do crap to predict the future

so what do u do in real life when you don't have perfect information and still you need to make those big decisions.. what about those moments when your gut isn't screaming or even whispering what to do..

seems like i am building up to the new Adidas ad.. no it isnt that, to me it seems like lot of big steps we take in life are pure speculation.. AND if it is so, then why not just go for it and do what you like.. for it is speculation anyways!

pack that bag again

now it is a year since we left college.. a YEAR!

i am tempted to do a mental account of what i have done or if i have changed in this year.. nay.. i shall resist.. why depress myself. anyway i think people around me have changed more, surnames have changed.. jobs have changed ..

all I have done is go from one city to another, rather town to another. and now suddenly it is Kolhapur! even Kochi was in the fray. At one point in time it used to appeal to me, to travel and live in different places.. the rather romantic thrill of finding new stuff about new places.. shoot and paint the new sights.

it is enough to say that love affair has died down now. and anyway the dream of living in different places was not limited to the indian map. still, now i get the feeling that that is not the problem. i am just not wired for this nomadic life. Home, car, friends, familiar hangout places, domestic help .. i want all that! maybe even a dog!

yeah i want that dog.

now i still live knowing i need to pack that suitcase again.

memory trail

Some memories stay stuck in the brain, i wonder what made them stick rather than be forgotten in the flow. For instance there was this one time i was in an auto with a friend in Bangalore on our way to work, i remember pointing out a new store on Bannergatta road to her. even now sometimes this picture randomly pops up, distinct in its clarity. i remember the auto, the traffic, smells, dresses..

Similarly there is one in Chennai where i am driving down one of the small side roads close to my home. i remember the place, the weather, and the general feeling so clearly, nearly 8-9 years later.

when these thoughts come and go, the aftertaste is distinctly melancholic. they are not unlike waking up early morning and realizing truly how lonely we are, how small each of our problems and fears are and that we have to stand up to them alone. like being caught in the headlights of a car bearing terribly fast down on you. the sense of futility and realization of smallness that can only be felt in those few moments of sleep induced clarity. feelings that lose their tangibility the moment we wake up and they are forgotten

yes Mr.Picasso

“Everyone wants to understand art. Why don’t we try to understand the song of a bird? Why do we love the night, the flowers, everything around us, without trying to understand them? But in the case of a painting, people think they have to understand. If only they would realize above all that an artist works of necessity, that he himself is only an insignificant part of the world, and that no more importance should be attached to him than to plenty of other things which please us in the world though we can’t explain them; people who try to explain pictures are usually barking up the wrong tree.” - Picasso

“Unlike in music, there are no child prodigies in painting. What people regard as premature genius is the genius of childhood. It gradually disappears as they get older. It is possible for such a child to become a real painter one day, perhaps even a great painter. But he would have to start right from the beginning. So far as I am concerned, I did not have that genius. My first drawings could never have been shown at an exhibition of children’s drawings. I lacked the clumsiness of a child, his naivety. I made academic drawings at the age of seven, the minute precision of which frightened me.” - Picasso.

dual processor

i cant do just one thing at a time, you know.. cant view just one tab on explorer, I cannot watch just one channel continuously on TV, cant talk on the phone without doing something else at the same time..

When i open my browser always open 3-4 tabs at once, with as many different things i want to check out cause i cant wait for one to load and then read it. the basic funda s that once a tab is done i need to have the next thing ready...

When i watch TV i literally watch multiple channels at once, i master the remote so i can do this without looking at it, do you know all remotes even have this button that allow you to toggle 2 channels, so perhaps this isnt a disorder that is only mine

I have been like this as far as i can remember, when i was in school and i was expected to iron my own clothes each day, the ironing table was in a bedroom, a room that had no music or TV. so when i could i would drag the TV there so i could watch it and iron - of course driving the rest of my family to madness in the process. When i cook i read a book, i need music when i run, i day dream when i drive :), a novel is mandatory for the morning processes, company when i shop or go somewhere..

wierd eh

Paranoia

some nights when sleep does not come, time swirls around shapes change shapes memories play with the shadows and words want to be written down. when tomorrow looms closer than it is and what went by is still here. when all your dreams come back to haunt and moments become stationary.

thought process influenced by anxiety to the point of delusional irrationality. only to wake up into the dream again. when else can you reach out and touch; to have those feelings again that could never have been, when else can you hear words you once heard; things that seem unlikely to have been said.

through the ether of space i am suspended, the stars are under me and the river above. surging on, i see the wind and feel the moonlight. colors stream through me i thirst for the heartbeat to tell me it is real. that you are listening. that i am free, that i fly, that tomorrow i can face.

die

How easy it is to think it is all lost. climbing aboard a landing craft before the invasion of Normandy, a sergeant told the men that by the end of the day, nine out of 10 would be dead. on hearing that news each man looked around and felt so sorry for those other nine poor sonsabitches.