Amidst chaos lies our meaning

The title of the post must be self explanatory. I started this blog as a vent. A vent for everything in my head. On a few days, I'd sit and write whatever was floating in my mind. It brought in a lot of serenity, a lot of closure to the multitude of happenings. On top of all that, I realised what most people actually feel. Initially, I thought I was alone and the thoughts creeping up in my head was a part of me and me alone. Once I started writing, I got to understand that there are people who feel the same. I don't necessarily know if the blog made you happy or sad. I don't know if it made me happy or sad. I wanted to write and this was my platform for the same. I've found my love for writing. I've found peace and solace in it. I will continue to do so but on a different platform. A new beginning. Soon.  In my journey to understanding why I feel the way I feel, I realised that most of us are filled with a lot of disturbance. There's a lot of rage agains...

This one is inspired from Interstellar. One of the finest films ever made. One of my favourite. Coupled with Hans Zimmer, this movie defined a good film for me. The effort a movie director put in to make a film as scientifically accurate as this is inspiring. More than that, this movie has a plot that runs really deep. To me, time is nothing but a storage device where we store memories. It isn't standard. You can't define time. You only assume it. Like every other one, this storage device is also limited. You can either fill it with garbage or you can fill it with the best pictures, movies, songs and what not. That's up to you. That is something you have the liberty to pursue. You've all the time in the world to go out there and explore. To stop and observe nature. To take a minute of your otherwise hectic day to stop and look if you're actually happy. Many of us are in a meaningless pursuit of materialistic pleasures. Not to say that money is unimportant. It is...

Sometimes, I come across pictures that have the depth of a trench. This picture taps that part of me which displays some sense of humanity. Coexistence is a way of nature. There's no messing around about it. Somehow, in the growth of human history, coexistence became a matter of quenching man's ego. We're cruel. Better yet, barbaric. It's hurtful and annoying to think about what we, as a species have done to mother Earth, nature, and also fellow humans. Fast-forward to today. A news pops up on my phone. Expecting it to be the results of the IPL match, I open it, only to find myself absolutely disgusted about what we have become. An 8 year old is raped. Over 20,000 woman are raped a year. That's north of 50 women every day. EVERY DAY! It pains me to talk about something as sensitive as this but the path down which we're headed leads to the end of humanity. Or is humanity already dead?  

Yet another unrelated title. I'm getting really good at this. So uncanny. Anyways, I could leave the picture alone and most of you would infer a million things. Like they say, a picture speaks a thousand words. At some part of everybody's life, loneliness hits you. It hits you hard. Harder than Mike Tyson. Fine, harder than Ivan Drago. It's probably just a phase. All I'm trying to say is we miss out on the wonderfulness of life by complaining about what we don't have. Here I am, Guns N' Roses playing on my headphones. I'm writing this post on my laptop connected to a fairly alive internet connection. Am I actually lonely? Totally. I've found solace in art. I've started appreciating visual art and have been absorbed by music of late. Writing is the shell that is protecting me from the harshness of the outside world. It's a cruel cruel place to be. There's a lot of pressing issues I'd like to talk about. Social message. Social activ...

Nope. This is not what you think it is. I'm no advocate for religion. Before we break that down, I'd like to talk about hope. Hope, to most of us is just another four letter word. As kids, hope is the feeling you have when India needs a boundary of the last ball and MS Dhoni is on strike. As you grow older, hope morphs itself. Your understanding of hope is as fuzzy as the vision of a drunk doper. Yep. Double power. When you're in college, hope is that little thing inside you that consoles you when you're having a breakdown. It's that little thing inside you that convinces you to wait for an opportunity. It gives you that reserve confidence to fight back and claim your spot. A lot of what I'm writing is either directly or indirectly chained to the doomed gates of engineering. What if I never wanted this? What if I was blindsided into making this decision? What if I want to write? Am I still not a kid? Hope is that little thing that flashes in front of you...

I probably have to start using my own images before somebody throws the copyright infringement on me. All done in complete innocence, I testify. Nevertheless, today I felt like writing about music. For that, we'd have to take a trip down memory lane. Was the summer of '17. I'd pop on my headphones, listening to music on Spotify, as I enjoyed the serenity of Singapore's quiet roads. Those were the best days of my life. Though I was breaking my head over what to do with this massive commitment staring down my rather empty brain. * shudders *. Music was a means of escape. I'd go to the gym, take a long, refreshing bath and pop on my headphones. Such pain my ears have been subjected to. When summer was about to come to an end, I had but one thing to request. Wake me up when September ends. I'm very specific about capitalising. The internet is a mean and dark place filled with critics. I'm not taking my chances. On a lighter note, fast-forward to winter, ...