It reminded me of a hundred things in a swift
It talked of the thousand feelings I went through in one second
It told me how teeny tiny things matter
It told me how changes occur
It told me how time constantly makes transformations
It told me how stupid I was when I thought those things
It made me realize my responsibilities
It made me remember bitter bees
It made me see the sweetest of memories.
It reminded me of the laugh and the smile
It reminded me of that one person in my life
It reminded me of the games we played
It reminded me of the selfless love we shared.
It reminded me of the day I was high
It reminded me of the time I was drunk
It was all so different then things came so easily to us
It reminded me of the problems we faced
It reminded of the fights we made
It reminded of the other who got trapped
It reminded me of the day when I had the worst enemies
It reminded me of how things changed
From the one person I couldn’t live without to now.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
To where we are.
The great moments of your life wont necessarily be the things you do, they’re also the things that happen to you. Not that you don’t take action to affect the outcome of your life. You do take action. And you will.
But you must never forget that on any day you step out of the house and your whole life can change forever. The universe has a plan for you and its always in motion. The butterfly flaps its wings and it starts to rain. It is a scary thought but its also wonderful.
All these parts of the machine constantly in motion, making sure that you’re exactly there where you’re supposed to be at that second.
The universe.
I recently went to a planetarium and it made me realize the existence a lot of miraculous things that happen in the universe. The earth moves to make sure there’s day and night. The earth is exactly placed where it is, to make sure we stand on earth and do not fly away. Everything in the universe is planned. Everything for everyone in the universe is planned, to make sure we do just fine.
Everything that happens, happens for a reason, coz you were planned to be there at that time to make something happen, to make someone else be where they were supposed to be. Everything just fits in perfectly to make everything happen.
If I wouldn’t have this Saturday morning off I wouldn’t be writing this. If I dint attend this college I wouldn’t have a Saturday off. If I wouldn’t have been inspired by a screensaver of a building on my phone, I wouldn’t have even thought of taking up architecture as a career option. If I wouldn’t have bought that phone and have bought the other phone that I was supposed to buy then I would probably have spent every minute after that moment doing and thinking about something distinctly different.
See, how everything is the way it is, coz its supposed to be.
And that is what you call, destiny.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Life in the Maximum city
Whenever I abuse, my always-keeps-a low profile friend says... "hey hey hey, mind your language lady". So what is it with abusing...? When men abuse its considered to be cool and it makes them into “men”, like they werent men before, and with the gender that is kicking their butts in almost every genre possible... aww thats so cheap!
It could be true that certain abusing does make women appear indecent, but where did all the equality of gender thought go... Being non judgemental is such a boon... fellow Men, just grow up!
So what is it about being a good person and a bad person. If drinking and smoking makes people bad, what about the more inner feelings that may wish much worse for people.
So after all, is there a dictionary that specifies these things, or would you just believe and take what you understand of The Bible, Bhagwad Gita or The Kuran.
How opinionated can decisions matter to be ?
If I return to the topic I was supposed to follow.. How bad is it to abuse? Isn’t what you actually do, feel and realize matter more than the mere F word. I would love to know how you feel about it so please do comment.
As for life for women in the city, well, its got its pros, I have been bought up in this city and it makes me what I am. It taught me to "adjust" in any kind of atmosphere and squish in through numerous crowds and still find a place for myself to sit in the overcrowded trains. It made me that independent that if I wake up in an unknown place, I will be able to find my way out and be home safely. It made me that strong that i can find my way out of any obscurity in the easiest way possible. And, ofcourse, it made me that sturdy that I could survive through three years of architectural studies.
Well it does have its cons too. My mother will always be disapproving about me roaming around the city in the middle of the night even if mumbai is rated one of the most safest cities. A place where, all the possible crimes in the world have taken place, some probably known, most unknown. A place where 20% of the population lives on the streets. A place where people come to live their dreams and some lucky few and their children get to sit in a room with the ac on, and type their blogs with no other worries. A place where talks about lying, cheating, breaking up, patching up are heard from every corner of a narrow gali. A place where being egotistical, pretentious, fake makes people “cool”. You feel its no big a deal if you are lying to your parents or breaking someones heart. It makes you that hardhearted.
But as they say, you have to be that bindaas to survive in this maximum city or everything and everyone will take you for granted. You must keep quiet, at times, at the most obvious of wrong acts.. If thats what they call being strong, then it does take some effort and vigor to stand back in the crowd and watch the scene, doesn’t it?
Of course there are a million and more things about this city, every beggar, every taxi driver, every mill worker will have his own story to tell that you wish you could interact with all those people you found interesting and there would be at least one thing about their lives that would be worth narrating to the world. Things that I have felt everyday and always wanted to express but its countless and recollection of almost everyday of my life is a little too much of an exercise so I am going to just leave it to this : You need to see it to believe it. You need to experience it to feel it.
It could be true that certain abusing does make women appear indecent, but where did all the equality of gender thought go... Being non judgemental is such a boon... fellow Men, just grow up!
So what is it about being a good person and a bad person. If drinking and smoking makes people bad, what about the more inner feelings that may wish much worse for people.
So after all, is there a dictionary that specifies these things, or would you just believe and take what you understand of The Bible, Bhagwad Gita or The Kuran.
How opinionated can decisions matter to be ?
If I return to the topic I was supposed to follow.. How bad is it to abuse? Isn’t what you actually do, feel and realize matter more than the mere F word. I would love to know how you feel about it so please do comment.
As for life for women in the city, well, its got its pros, I have been bought up in this city and it makes me what I am. It taught me to "adjust" in any kind of atmosphere and squish in through numerous crowds and still find a place for myself to sit in the overcrowded trains. It made me that independent that if I wake up in an unknown place, I will be able to find my way out and be home safely. It made me that strong that i can find my way out of any obscurity in the easiest way possible. And, ofcourse, it made me that sturdy that I could survive through three years of architectural studies.
Well it does have its cons too. My mother will always be disapproving about me roaming around the city in the middle of the night even if mumbai is rated one of the most safest cities. A place where, all the possible crimes in the world have taken place, some probably known, most unknown. A place where 20% of the population lives on the streets. A place where people come to live their dreams and some lucky few and their children get to sit in a room with the ac on, and type their blogs with no other worries. A place where talks about lying, cheating, breaking up, patching up are heard from every corner of a narrow gali. A place where being egotistical, pretentious, fake makes people “cool”. You feel its no big a deal if you are lying to your parents or breaking someones heart. It makes you that hardhearted.
But as they say, you have to be that bindaas to survive in this maximum city or everything and everyone will take you for granted. You must keep quiet, at times, at the most obvious of wrong acts.. If thats what they call being strong, then it does take some effort and vigor to stand back in the crowd and watch the scene, doesn’t it?
Of course there are a million and more things about this city, every beggar, every taxi driver, every mill worker will have his own story to tell that you wish you could interact with all those people you found interesting and there would be at least one thing about their lives that would be worth narrating to the world. Things that I have felt everyday and always wanted to express but its countless and recollection of almost everyday of my life is a little too much of an exercise so I am going to just leave it to this : You need to see it to believe it. You need to experience it to feel it.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Realisations in Architecture
When we enter into something new there is a possibility that, you either get a new outlook in life, or live life the same way, or it turns out to be something you would have never imagined to be. Architecture, without any controversies, falls into the third category.
Starting from the first day that I entered the classroom to now, when I am home after finishing my third year Architectural Design viva, my thoughts about architectural studies have changed almost everyday (by which I mean, every single day).
As an architecture student I realized that you will technically fail, if you decide to sleep (or accidentally sleep off) the night before a jury.
You can fall sick only at the right times or late submissions and overloaded work can cover up for the torture that medicines saved you from.
You start thinking, spending time in the library can actually be useful but it still doesn’t sink in.
You totally understand when someone says “I have a lot of work, I cant spend even an hour.” Coz most of times you are trying to make your (non architecture) friends understand that.
Finishing one sheet in 10 hours is an award winning accomplishment.
You realize that, after all there is a difference between drawing and drafting.
Without reading it, you can precisely guess the grade of the pencil or the thickness of a pen by just scribbling down a line.
You know the difference between block board and black board.
You know fevicol (SH) can stick anything and everything.
Glass Tracing is a boon.
Night outs are as easy for you as convincing a juror of an on-the-spot made concept.
Brain storming, torturous, full of sarcasm, you-are-worth-nothing lectures from terrorist look-alike professors are like music to your ears and make absolutely nil difference to you.
After 6 months of working your ass off on a project, you still go to a jury with zero expectation of any appreciation, all prepared to face any(ANY) kind of juror and have the courage to walk out of it with a smile on your face.
You believe any other profession is SAD.
You realize that gutters are not only the ones at the bottom but also at the top.
An architectural mishap almost gives you a heart attack.
When you go to a restaurant you are busy noticing the beams and columns while your friends are talking about latest movies and clothes and gadgets, with which you have been deprived due to an upcoming jury.
You do not wait for Diwali or Christmas, the one thing that you look forward to is the study trip. No studies on the trip, pure fun.
Going to subway or birdys after a jury gives you so much joy as to a lion free from a cage.
You eat, sleep, drink, work, travel, live with your friends such that you know each others grossest of habits and funniest of things. You make friends forever.
You juggle between fights, relationships, family, friends and WORK with utmost efficiency.
Architecture teaches you almost everything…from balancing (life and models) to living it the right way and getting through it with difficulty and still surviving it with a smile after every bump on the concrete road.
Starting from the first day that I entered the classroom to now, when I am home after finishing my third year Architectural Design viva, my thoughts about architectural studies have changed almost everyday (by which I mean, every single day).
As an architecture student I realized that you will technically fail, if you decide to sleep (or accidentally sleep off) the night before a jury.
You can fall sick only at the right times or late submissions and overloaded work can cover up for the torture that medicines saved you from.
You start thinking, spending time in the library can actually be useful but it still doesn’t sink in.
You totally understand when someone says “I have a lot of work, I cant spend even an hour.” Coz most of times you are trying to make your (non architecture) friends understand that.
Finishing one sheet in 10 hours is an award winning accomplishment.
You realize that, after all there is a difference between drawing and drafting.
Without reading it, you can precisely guess the grade of the pencil or the thickness of a pen by just scribbling down a line.
You know the difference between block board and black board.
You know fevicol (SH) can stick anything and everything.
Glass Tracing is a boon.
Night outs are as easy for you as convincing a juror of an on-the-spot made concept.
Brain storming, torturous, full of sarcasm, you-are-worth-nothing lectures from terrorist look-alike professors are like music to your ears and make absolutely nil difference to you.
After 6 months of working your ass off on a project, you still go to a jury with zero expectation of any appreciation, all prepared to face any(ANY) kind of juror and have the courage to walk out of it with a smile on your face.
You believe any other profession is SAD.
You realize that gutters are not only the ones at the bottom but also at the top.
An architectural mishap almost gives you a heart attack.
When you go to a restaurant you are busy noticing the beams and columns while your friends are talking about latest movies and clothes and gadgets, with which you have been deprived due to an upcoming jury.
You do not wait for Diwali or Christmas, the one thing that you look forward to is the study trip. No studies on the trip, pure fun.
Going to subway or birdys after a jury gives you so much joy as to a lion free from a cage.
You eat, sleep, drink, work, travel, live with your friends such that you know each others grossest of habits and funniest of things. You make friends forever.
You juggle between fights, relationships, family, friends and WORK with utmost efficiency.
Architecture teaches you almost everything…from balancing (life and models) to living it the right way and getting through it with difficulty and still surviving it with a smile after every bump on the concrete road.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)