Things work by the law of opposites most of the time. At least, with me they do. Which is why my internet connection conking out has resulted in me wanting to blog. Give a human being a computer with a functional internet connection, and chances are Crazy Taxi will be the centre of attention, but take it all away and what arises is a desire to write. Sheesh. No wonder wars happen.
I feel very stream-of-consciousness right now, perhaps due to the fact that there's an overloud music system here in the cyber cafe, playing overloud songs to the surfers as a consolation for the battered keyboards not having any of the letters on them. Not one. It's great for your confidence to press five random keys from memory and discover that they do, in fact, spell out a functional word. Speaking of which, one of my favourite hobbies is to try and pronounce the combinations provided for word checks on Blogger comment boxes. What are the chances that the word won't sound like an angry Polish expletive? And speaking of chances, what are the chances that the same song you heard in an auto last monday will start playing today, also a monday? It's not a popular choice at radio stations, at least it shouldn't be. I mean, dekha hai pehli baar, saajan ki aankhon mein pyaar is not the song you want to listen to when you try to type on a keyboard without letters on it, while the guy next to you keeps using Yahoo audibles. It isn't the kind of song you want to listen to anytime. If this is some test of endurance, I'm failing. I want to burst into tears, right about now.
Speaking of tears, it rained all day. It rained in the morning and I wore non-slippery shoes, which didn't really help because I slipped and fell off a bus, and tore my pants. I then went back home and changed, but this time I forgot my umbrella at home, and I only happened to remember it as I stepped out of an auto a good distance away from the university gate, with sheets of rain pouring down. And while I was trying to digest this fact, another auto ran over the side of my foot. My sneakers saved me, but the runover one looks rather sorry now. I hate vehicles. Cars especially, trucks next, and buses come a close third. The only thing I like about buses, public ones in particular, is the numbers they have. Imagine having a conversation with another bus-using friend that goes: "What today? The S-9? Too bad, I got the 45B instead, not too much trouble". It's like you're discussing secret missions, or military strategies. That does not mean buses are kindred. It seems a singularly stupid invention on the part of mankind to create a metal machine that you can command, and go berserk with on roads, and kill people with. Oh wait. There are other similar stupid inventions on the part of mankind.
I'm thinking about mankind. Becoming deep, aren't I? Speaking of which, I spent a lot of time today thinking about my life's philosophy in terms of ambition. Everyone has one, I think, except they vary in terms of preference. Some people want to get rich, others want to get implants, but the important thing is that they want. So I made a small list of what I want, which didn't make much sense because the items are all things I could do without. Speaking of which, do people who want fame realise what they're in for? It seems pretty tiring; I'd die if I was on reality television, it's like discovering that there is a god in spite of what you led yourself to believe.
Being moderately famous wouldn't be too bad, though. If you had something to verify that you were famous, but it didn't really make any waves or create any craters, that would be fine. Like getting yourself on a postage stamp. I mean, as a commemmoration. Otherwise the sentence just sounds strange. But if you could get an obscure country or organisation to put you on a series of postage stamps, chances are some philatelist will have it in his collection. And maybe he'll sell it for a large sum of money sometime. That's a nice possibility. Or if you could have an inanimate object named after you. Like a new breed of semi-precious stones, or a bullet train maybe. That would be brilliant.
So my parameters for fame are: being featured on a stamp, and having a bullet train named after me. Speaking of which, the Song Playing Cyber-Cafe (SPC-C henceforth) now has an entire page in its register named after me. It's the second day I've visited it, and they've already given me an entire page in their register. I feel special, but I don't think they get too many customers. Maybe I should drop them a discreet line about the music they play. Bol radha bol tune yeh kya kiya is on now. I'm not really anti-antiquity, but there's only so much you can stand. Speaking of which, I'd better end this now. For my sake, and for yours.
God may play dice with the universe, but it's a lot more fun to play tag with your mind.
1 day ago
13 have survived.:
Wanting to be famous is just another way of wanting to be immortal. Which, when you think about it, is what we all really want, irrespective of our other desires.
a guy whose blog i read pretty regularly ( his name was Sam Maurer and he was in MIT) wanted to have an S.I unit named after him. How cool is that?
About the post, I have no clue Why people want what they want. But lil priyanka, you be wise! :P
Think this way : Because of you the cyber-cafe owners won't go the Lehman Brothers way.
And that should make you feel prouder.
If this is an indication of things to come, I hope you never get your internet connection back. And I personally always wanted a law named after me. As in, a scientific law, not something like the Sroyon Act. Eww. But the S.I. Unit idea seems cool too.
Well, I don't know why i WANT. i just do. i think we all just DO. like i want a new Ipod Classic. But when i get it I shall not want it anymore. It happens all the time. Think of it, you want fame, you got fame, and now once, you got it, you don.t want it anymore. Happens.
And jeez, to think of being remembered by posterity as an S.I. unit or something like that is scary.
I'd rather melt into oblivion.
And well, at least you know a number of things that you DO want.
like, For you pants not to split when you manage to slip of a bus, while wearing non slippery shoes on a very slippery rainy day, and make you run back home to change, and rush back without an umbrella only to get drenched in the rain, and have autos run over your feet.
OR, to not be in a cyber cafe which plays such music ( but then again, i have discovered, that it's easier to be creative when things are unpleasant. when they are too nice, or if they had bob Dylan playing, you wouldn't feel like writing at all.)
see, point is, that's really a lot to KNOW. i don't know half as much.
i shall stop now. i have realized that most of my comments are bigger than my own blog posts. *sighs*
i want a whole shelf in a bookstore. and i want to be the reclusive author who lives on an island and melts intrusive cameras with her malevolent gaze. fun.
Well, a lot of strange inventions have been named after people...including the dildo(devised by Henry Dildo):P
a) I H.A.T.E Buses and cars. I'm phobic about crossing the road alone. I usually hold someone's hand. *blushes* Autos, I like.
b) I really enjoy Dekha Hai Pehli Baar type songs when I'm in the mood for them. Have you ever tried SINGING them? With a group of kindred screwed-up souls?
I want to spew quotes like Oscar Wilde did.
*promptly shuts up and runs away*
@ rahul: yeah, except there are different ways to go about it :D
@ reeti: i was introduced to his blog a few days ago :D
@ wian: true. now i feel special and proud.
@ sroyon: but it's not like Sroyon's Law of Motion sounds any better :D
@ sohini: the iPod classic part is true. my father uses it more than i do.
@ heh? ok: ahh. yes. that is a very want-able thing. except i don't think i could accomplish it. you, on the other hand... :)
@ pom: you're kidding me about the dildo part, right?
@ dotl: of course! changra songs are fun when you're being changra.
@ spirited: well, you can do the second best thing. write Uncyclopedia entries.
I just found your blog, and i like. :)
btw, uncylopedia is the shit when you're bored.
i remember saying "dim-paruti dim-paruti" during that line of music after the first line of "dekha hai pehli baar"...
u know if i ever become famous,i'd hate to have a statue of mine,especially on a calcutta road,and serve as a WC for the birds!
@ genie: thankee, and yes, it is :)
@ lb: which is why bullet trains are a better idea.
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