WarbleRambler

So I feel like writing. Lots. No deep insights, no analysis. This one is going to come out as I think. That was a warning, by the way for those who might read. Because most of my friends, when I voice out my thoughts stay kms away from my perimeter.

Well, life is ok. Going on. I wouldn't call it full though. I haven't drawn for ages. Usually both (Pre n me) when we get our clients (I should be kidding when I say clients, cos not one of them morons, had color or practical sense), we sit together and start scribbling / sketching and then combine the two and take the best and make a new design out of it (read - take off all the nice colours, use bright colors such that client agrees, such that anyone who sees our work would be rendered color blind immediately or in near future and hence we become famous, yay!). For this simple reason I (cant believe) actually miss my shitty job. Because whenever our sir used to get out of meetings with directors (another breed of morons(Would you believe, one of 'em said - sir, i want a design for an erotic song set *huh* - nicely worded sugar coated words for a porn song - Now that people, wherein lies the future of tamil cinema) ) and other clients, he used to give us also a set of rough instructions such that we could come up with new ideas. Though he used to 'borrow' our sketches, he made sure we drew everyday. Now I see all those sketch books and a sort of woe befalls on my face. Though I've the time now, I found myself sitting with the sketch book with a blank page and a pencil and not even as much as a single stroke staring back. (I'm certain, you guys are still stuck on the erotic song-set idea)
Actually the job helped. I learnt what should NOT be in a set. What design NOT to do. What prop NOT to purchase and how NOT a script should be. And actually, this is not just applicable to the job, but to people also. How NOT to behave/ work/ be unorganised.

I need to draw. I really need to do something with my hands. So what exactly I'm going to do about it, I dont know yet.

I realised that I've quite a few responsibilites now. Pre and myself always used to joke that we were never destined to earn too much money because it never stayed with us. Very true. Definitely for me. I for one if I see something that I know somebody would love to have it, will immediately splurge into getting it, even if I'm close to bankruptcy ( I remember when I had Rs.48 and the banker was giving me pretty odd stares when i asked for a new chequebook). I am quite a generous person ( a character that doesnt suit this millenium I found - Hey! Dont pity me, did I hear *tsk**tsk*). And never was in dire need of money for myself. Now when I see my niece, I want to get her so many stuff and slowly realised that I really need to start getting a constant sum into my account. And she is not the only one whom I want to pamper.

I am sick of budgets. I am sick of looking for discount rates and searching for things and gifts in a less costly store and calculating before coming to the bill counter to check and recheck whether I really need those items I put on my trolley on an impulse. I cannot go on like this. And I wont. And I absolutely hate taking loans from my friends. Because that is like spending the money you never know when you could replace. And even when you do get cash in the future, you realise that you've already spent it. I used to take my bike to the other ends of the city (for work ofcourse) simply because I would not have cash to take an auto. I've done two hour rides back and forth in disastrous rains and scorching heat. All this in the name of internship (read - Yoohoo! No cash plus beaucoup d' NOT - experience)

Ofcourse there are these relatives who are extremely curious as to know what I do and pop the question at every get-together, to whom I retort back, 'freelance design'. To which each of 'em ask for explanations. If there is one relative I've not yet been answerable to, I think that would be my barely-one-month-old niece. I mean, these are the same old iyer mami's who sit and chat with other mami's over indefinite cups of BRU kapi's (definitely a post coming up solely dedicated to them) come up with prosperous groom/bride proposals to unknown innocent lives like me and they ask career questions not for the want of knowing their ward better, but to store the information in their match-making part of brain (next to it is where our own brand of soapoperatic mega-serial scripts also lie ready to be commanded at a nano-second). I mean, these breed of female actually, are very satisfied when you say you work in Infosys/ Wipro (This is one helluva magic word) or any other software infested companies.. and nod their heads like Tanjore cows as if they completely understand the innerworking of JAVA and even assess your salary almost perfect than your HR executive but ask me (freelance design- how clearer can I get) about 20GB worth of Bournvita Derek O Brian quizz questions about what I do and how I do and where I do, all the while trying to guess if I fit their perfect plaster-of-paris-cast of bride in demand. To all those with 'whats-your-gothram' ridden diseased aunties, for heaven's sake and the eligible boy's, please look ELSEWHERE.

Ok, I am going to stop rambling on. I am going to concentrate on my ok side of life.

I am actually not giving it enough credit. Its doing more than ok. Life is colourful in more than ways than one. First, mom is being supportive about me being at home and not conquering the world. Music has become a new dimension in my life since I had not been giving the due attention all these years. And afore all this, (I have a lapse of right words here) discovering a new self, a someone whom I'm hardly able to recognise beyond wit / unwit (not a word, I know, but you get the flow dude). And I love the fact that I'm not being precise because I myself find the unpredictability that actually renders me incognito to myself. Does it make sense to you?

Well, I think I have reached the ultimatum in 'blah' itself today. Here is me, sans career plans, sans healthy bank accounts, sans any plans to achieve any of the former. . and I find people do love me, still. And spare time to listen to me. Can it get any more bare? Maybe thats where I derive my strength from. That there are no expectations (definitely not from iyer mami's) cast on me to overshadow my longings to experiment. Sometimes it helps and sometimes, not.

Chamaeleonidae

I am the murderer who heard your cry,
while my tyres rode on, tearing you,
was it plain anguish I heard,
of the dearth of the moments in your life?

Did I distort the kaleidoscope of your disguise?
Oh Chameleon, what colour did you choose to adorn death?
Was it plain blood red
or that black hole of hopeless hope
or the greys that decays the brightest nature?

Forgive me so,
for growing into someone with unwarranted beliefs
that, all other are insignificant beings,
when actually handicapped by an additional fifth sense,
while you had as much life in you as me,
maybe even more colours my canvas ever knew.

While we paved more roads, and forced you into oblivion,
while we called you pests, and cut more trees, guiltless.
And made you live in our cemented lives,
Did you choose that dark grey of the road to disguise death?

I am the murderer who heard your cry,
my tyres rode on, tearing you.
Frost bitten anguish I heard,
of the dearth of the moments in your life.