Tag: NaBloPoMo Nov 2014

Writing About Yourself?

“Write about yourself in 250 words.” A task I gave myself a couple of months ago. “Ah! This is going to be really interesting”. I exclaimed. And I sat down to write in my diary.

A few minute of “I”, “me”, “I ‘m” and I found myself completely lost for words;  the words that came by easily and took the form I gave my writing. The humour was at bay, seriousness failed to stop by, and emotions withheld from display.

It was very easy to say “I am so and so” and “I did this and that” and crack a joke at your own cost. But when deciding to write about “yourself”, I began to ponder. “Who am I?” “Am I what my achievements are?” or “Am I what people told me, who they think I am” or “Am I the person who speaks to myself when in solitude?”

I could not arrive at an answer. With every situation I was finding a different “I”. While at work the search was for an academic “I”, at home “I became truly myself”, and in a group it was I who selected an “I” that the situation demanded.

I could not believe that even when it came to writing about myself, the true self seemed apprehensive about being a story teller. It surprised me. Making a bio-data was easy but “yourself” had significance beyond the perceived.

I scribbled a few sentences as if they were my first writing assignment in life. Expressed in simple and lucid language, the complications of “I” and the frills of exaggeration gained with time were erased effortlessly.Those few sentences were indeed “who I am”.

My heart goes out to all those who pen down their true self, honestly and sincerely.

Feeling of Blue

“Monday Blues”. Every Monday someone or the other, without fail sends a message on “Monday Blues”. That’s exactly the time when I am thinking “it’s just another day”.

A search for “Monday Blues” returned to describe it “as a set of negative emotions that many people get at the beginning of the workweek”. Interestingly, the blue seems to be a contribution from “a type of music made popular by African Americans.”

“The ‘blues music’ deals with rather sad themes, and as a result leaves the listener feeling sad. This is the reason why the expressions ‘to have the blues’ and ‘feeling blue’ mean feeling sad or depressed.” (The Hindu, Education Plus, May 2006)

I could not help but think about blue, the primary colour; the colour of the sky and the sea; a shade associated with spirituality, peace and serenity.

My emotional connect with blue goes back to the day I stood before the paintings by renowned painter, Nicholas Roerich.

The various shades of blue spread over the canvas had a rhythmic pattern, and the painting appeared to blend the real and the divine. Of course, Roerich’s spiritual bend of mind reflected in his works. Yet, that may be just one of the reasons for the use of blue.

Though my knowledge in studying a “painting” has been limited, the artwork before me had captivated my thoughts with the blue. And I realised the beauty of its depth as unfathomable.

Apparently, the colour blue is said to have a positive effect on  our mind and body. “It invokes rest and can cause the body to produce chemicals that are calming and exude feelings of tranquillity”. However, too much of blue can create negative feelings, melancholy and sadness among others.

Probably, Monday blues has nothing to do with the colour blue. It may be just a feeling of disconnect at the thought of getting back into the routine. Or it may be a reason for someone finding it difficult to report to a job that s/he does not enjoy.

Whether it is “Monday Blues” or “Feeling Blue”, the fascinating blue is a colour that induces and inspires. And Monday is just another day.

Chasing the Thoughts

Wish I never sit to analyse my thoughts. At one moment my mind is busy gathering the ‘to-do’ list and helping to sort out the day’s activities, and at the same moment it also drags in thoughts that are ‘out of context’, especially at that given point of time.

These captured thoughts stay at some corner of the mind obsessively, and return at an apt moment to show “how significant they can be.”

Interestingly, each and every ‘uncalled thought’ that came by has contributed significantly. Probably, it was a concept feathering to take its unusual flight.

Rightly pointed out by a researcher, “naturalistic analysis shows how we can have some understanding of a concept without the ability to strictly define it.”

Indeed, “creativity is linked to fundamental qualities of thinking, such as flexibility and tolerance of ambiguity.”

But, how often do we appreciate our thought processes? I do agree that, it is not necessary for every thought to materialise into a concept.

It is even more difficult  when someone insists that they have never had a stray thought.

Some of us write down our thoughts that may vary from a single word to a paragraph. Some may even cite the page number from a book that had the ‘word’. And we sit to analyse the ‘thoughts’ at our leisure.

I have found it to be a  stimulating experience; or rather an interesting exercise as if playing a jigsaw puzzle or a scrabble. However, there is absolute chaos when it comes to brainstorming. But in the end, it takes a beautiful form with the right trims and the cuts.

Walk to Life

It was a Sunday morning. The Sun was yet to light the day to brightness. The slight chill of November was refreshing. And we were feeling the wind as we set on a bike ride.

The roads were rather quiet except for a few early risers. But the parks were livelier with “morning walkers”, and “strong believers of fitness mantra”.

There were some who walked their dogs, while the others jogged with music plugged in their ears, and some others who chose quieter corners to practice meditation.

We parked our bike outside one such park that faced the sea; a visual delight. Its endless broad pavement with planted trees on the sides, were indeed welcoming.

We were instantly drawn to a few elderly people who had stopped by to relax on the benches. Their faces reflected an inner peace and their friendly smile spread warmth. Though they seemed to be relaxing, they were concentrating on the slow exercises, moving their aging hands and legs carefully.

Their exuberance was infectious. Without realising, I found myself following their steps. My hands moved along with my feet; I slowed myself to unwind the tension that had built on my neck. An occupational hazard that, I am tackling on a weekly basis.

Surprisingly, we kept walking along the path with little distraction. We did not share any conversation, neither family nor the office. The only awareness was a kind of undefined happiness.

The sea appeared calm to the wind ruffles. However, our eyes were fixed at the undefined azure stretch of sky and sea. Incidentally, both of us were thinking about the infinite in our stretch of lives.

How many hours had passed by, we did not recollect. We were back on our bike riding, and the undefined presence of Sun as our “Guardian Angel” kept us company.