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Siddharth's Daily (μ/micro)Blog

aspiring advocate or something

today. 3rd of july, two thousand and fourteen.

There are times. At these times, I know. I know the truth. I don’t need anyone to tell me. I don’t need anyone to explain the nature of life, existence, truth or my self to me. I know. I know that I will suffer. I know that I will be miserable for the duration of my life. I know that there is absolutely no escape from it, and that nothing I do can change it. I can suffer and agonize and manifest my misery in different ways and in different circumstances and through different actions, but the amount and magnitude of the suffering and misery, the quantum of it, as it were, is not something that I will ever influence or even be able to. This is the truth. It does not matter whether I realize it, it does not matter whether I have even an inkling of it, and it does not matter whether I at all respect it. It is the truth, and the truth will prevail. I do not say this in a fit of self tortured misery. I do not say this out of depression. I do not say this out of a twisted, masochistic form of self-glorification (to the best of my knowledge).
There are moments when you predict some things, and you feel a calm acceptance of its truth. A small example of the same is the Nadal-Kyrgios match that took place during the period that I worked on this. I realize that some might call it a ‘gut feeling’, but if anything it’s exactly the absence of a gut feeling that describes this for me. The calm sense of knowledge, of assurance, of sheer mundane acceptance, that accompanies a prediction that the sun will rise in the east (which isn’t something I’ve ever verified, but there you go). This is what accompanies the element in my mind which makes these predictions. I don’t question it. I hardly respond to it apart from acknowledging its existence. This lack of reaction of course being part of the larger lack of any substantive reaction to the thought, of course.
FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE! MISERY MISERY MISERY! DECIEPT DECIEPT DECIEPT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SCHADENFREUDE! SCHADENFREUDE! piss

kids.

Hi. What else to we have in the world apart from a burning desire to do something or another? Even if it isn’t a selfish desire and is otherwise motivated…

Sigh. I don’t want to talk about the nature of desire. Enough of that stuff. Lets talk about… roller coasters? I’ve never really been on a major one. I’m nearly 22 now. Damn. You definitely ought to have been on a good roller coaster ride by the time your eighteen or something, if you’re a part of that general paradigm of lifestyle. Which is to simply say, if you’ve visited amusement parks a few times in your life. There’s a bunch of things I think people should do before a certain age. Though this is much less a 30 before 30 list than it is a… lets say 50 before 15 list. Books, movies, music, playing instruments, singing and/or dancing, and certain kinds of experiences like paying the gas bill or the corporation tax or help filing tax returns, all of these are the kinds of things I’d feature in that list. It just makes you more of a complete human being is all.

It makes us better equipped to deal with the myriad situations we’d face when chasing those desires I mentioned earlier. Of course, one might argue that you’d simply learn to deal with these situations when you actually do face them while chasing your passions anyway, but it does seem better to face them in a more controlled environment first, preparing yourself, as it were, so that you don’t have as much at stake and are better placed to deal with random scenarios cropping up when facing different kinds of media or situations. Another argument would be that even after you go through this incubation period of sorts, a preparatory gauntlet as it were, you will nonetheless feel a sense of emptiness when you go forth into whatever you claimed passion turns out to be. However, the fact remains that the two are not really necessarily a guy thing. Sorry, I meant the same thing.

I ended up talking about how to deal with desire anyway. I don’t mind at this point. Have a nice day.

a double take at your last major interview

fucking hell. it’s simply so confusing. one day you decide that teach for india might be a good out-of-college option, and the next day you’re reading opinions and blogs talking about how it’s part of the neo-liberal structure that pervades the economy and society today. a corporate job was already ‘out of the question’, as it were, but no, wait, there’s a recruitment call from the only firm you’ve ever interned in in the only mainstream field of law you ever found interesting, surely you have to take it? surely? I mean of course you have at the very least that minimum level of humanity to look at your family’s situation and take a decision factoring that in as well, yes? Of course I don’t mean to insinuate that you don’t, of course not, wouldn’t dream of it. Heh heh heh. This is what life is about. Headaches and indecision. Crippling desires and iron-fisted morality. Hahahahah. You try and try and try harder and at the end of the shenanigans a clown comes out of nowhere and breaks an egg on your head. On the front half of your head, so that the insides dribble all over your face. Because that’s when you really start to enjoy the ride. That’s when you suddenly start earning enough money to start taking decisions yourself and guess what? You’re even worse at life than you thought! You laughed at your parents and all those other adults but never really learned from their mistakes, only to imitate them. So what do ou do once you’ve lunched alone and banged that shady hooker? Pick up that new project at work? That should add some meaning to your life, shouldn’t it? Maybe it’ll end up in that big jump in job prospects you’ve been looking forward to so much for the past month. Or maybe you’re going to be unsatisfied with the way people working with you are choosing to carry out the project like you were last time and make such a big conflict within the project that the whole damn thing is going to come crashing down the way it did last time.

But maybe I’m being too harsh on you. You deserve a chance. A chance to show that you can turn things around this time. <snort> Pardon me. Alright, I admit, I don’t think you’re going to turn things around. But I still wouldn’t mind giving you a shot anyway. I mean, any small change you make from where you were last time, that’s – that’s a step in a positive direction, right? So go ahead. Show is what you’re made of.

Just don’t fuck this one up. Ha.

Loma’s Matchbox

Glasnost

Written by Anshuman Singh, LLM.

We submarined yesterday in Wang’s room. Kshitiz, Wang, Loma, Bala, Param, Anand, and myself. Loma took a matchbox, played around with it for a while. Something occurred to him then, probably because no one was talking. A vacuum had to be filled. It was almost as if everyone was expecting a magic trick of some sort – waiting for something to emerge from nothing. He tossed and turned the box in his hands, and asked me, “Which side do you think the black heads are on?” Having said as much, he proceeded to topple and turn the wretched thing over and over, as though it had no bearing on the affair.

But did it? No one was playing to win, really, even though it was that very illusion that sustained the entire script. Once again, he asks, “Which side?” I point my fingers to the…

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why i said fuck you to the person i just appreciated. or didn’t.

so today i was simply imagining another conversation wherein… wait stop. I was rather imagining how a real conversation I actually had could have developed differently than it did. in the real one we were discussing a certain person. or rather how this person among others wasn’t informed about a relevant and important decision taken by the person i was talking to. i imagined myself suggesting, in response, that this particular person was worthy of their regard and that they could probably have agreeably taken this person into their confidence in the matter. i imagined how the person would have reacted if i had said it in their presence. probably with something like “aww how sweet” or something, i thought to myself. at which point i knew that i would feel that the right thing to do would be to say “fuck you” to them.

and then probably follow up with “don’t get me wrong. i do value your appreciation of me. but the thing is it’s a personal kind of appreciation you’re showing me. and the kind of evaluation i made of you in return for which you’re giving me this appreciation is professional, not personal. and i do value you personally as well. i do crave your personal appreciation. which is why if you give it to me for the professional benefits i give you, it will encourage me to give you more professional praise or benefit in anticipation of your appreciation for me. Doling out professionally beneficial material for personal reward? That’s corruption right there. That’s why i can’t accept your appreciation for me. That’s why, fuck you. Don’t forget, I do love you.”

Imaginary conversations. The spice of life.

Crackle of the Counter

Oh dear lord. This is more of a therapy blog than a daily blog. Well, so be it.

Is it work i hate, or existence, or is it what i do? Studying is something everyone does, but stidying the law? In India? In National Law University Delhi? Is it just that I hate? Or is it a larger category of studying, therefore qualifying me to be branded as lazy and unworthy? The not-so-latter question has some merit. The way they teach the law in general is absolutely pathetic. I don’t necesarily mean the teaching quality. But simply the way the entire thing is built. Fifty courses, worth some what 500 credits, taught over the course of 42 months of semester time. That’s a frankly undoable level of coursework that’s being imposed on a set of faculty and students who are unable to deliver. But maybe I am exaggerating. There are a lot of high CGPAs in some batches, and quite often the students do actually remember what they learned in previous courses and its ramifications. These two groups of students don’t always overlap a lot, but that’s alright.

Harlots and Hemingways, cheer for the great Sultan on Poorpur, who makes his way in his stately thingamabob!

A full five minutes standing in one place outside and then pushed away fearing someone was going to walk by twice and see how weird I am.

Stream o consciousness. Does this qualify? Do I need to spell right while doing this? How are the rules of grammar altered, if at all, in this form of writing?

Enough of this bull shit! I will leave all of this to rot and run away. somewhere far away where neither projects friends deadlines commitments or whatsapp messages (or indeed the lack thereof) can bother me. I will leave all this shit and flush it down, to die somewhere else, happier and hungrier.

I don’t even want to talk about it but… Okay, I won’t.

Time to take a shower.

ba ba buick ship

I’m back. The unit tests are over,  and the only sign that’s left of them is the horrible hangover i have of utter hopelesssness and sloth that they’ve resulted in.

Contrast this to a number of weeks ago when I was blissfully busy, engage in something or the other every single day so consistently, and filled with marvellous larger ambitions for life, all of which seemed palpably possible and doable. And now I decide to skip an exam as well as a class within half an hour when there’s still over an hour left for the class.

And it’s a funny thing, but it hasn’t been until I got down to writing this (and this particular paragraph at that) that I actually got to thinking about getting out of this rut of sorts. Before this point it’s just been a dazed acceptance of this state of being, with no real questioning or concentrated opposition to speak of. The process of putting this stuff down in words however does help in terms of thinking about it to the extent of realizing that it needn’t be a state to accept without question, and certainly not one to be unperturbed about. So writing this blog has some tangibly positive impact on my mind, it would seem. Whether or not it will bring results is something that will have to be observed in due time.

Does this still count as a daily blog if I’ve missed three days on account of the tests? Even if one was willing to make that allowance for a student, the fact does remain that I didn’t do a lot of studying during those three days that I spent away from the blog. I suppose an exception can be made seeing as it’s the first time it’s happened.

Mushrooms and Meanders.

Urgh. What the hell. I don’t need a fucking homogenous fruit of derbyshire man. All I need is the fucking trip. THE TRIP! HA! For the someone loney do we forget the stakes that are at play on the wheels of life wherein the families of all the big granaries will partake in their own happiness as well as others to make peace with the cause of the various hedge theives and harlots that roam the land looking for my penis and its irresistable charm.

Ugh. — Part ii

A little bit more on the engagement ceremony before I move on. The one person that I quite wanted to talk to was left unattended by me. She didn’t dance either, I’d noticed. Mildly interesting, I suppose. If at all.

Have i mentioned that i rather enjoy being an adult? There are just so many rules of etiquette protecting you from any kind of real interaction with people, it’s absolutely wonderful most of the time, except those times where you feel pretty empty inside, when it does nothing but exacerbate that feeling. All in all though i most definitely enjoy adulthood more than adolescence. Sweet fucking sixteen my hairy gonad-skin. Glad to done and over with it. Now i can actually enjoy myself a little bit. i don’t mean this in the way that it normally is, in the sense of an exploration as a consequence of newfound freedom. I enjoy it a lot more because there is just so much more to think about, so much to ponder, to care about, so many complications and consequences, and there aren’t a lot of things i enjoy doing more than pondering. Everything right from the minutiae of social interaction to career choices, the meaning of life, choice of clothing manufacturing sources, religion, the relevance of fiction in everyday life, your mind is just allowed to simply explode in terms of possibilities of what concepts to apply where. And i find this absolutely wonderful. And what’s all the more satisfying is that this is the way it’s going to be for as long as i live. I will always be accountable for the actions I undertake, and gives me immense satisfaction. Like what i do really matters. And what more does anyone really want than to matter, in whatever way that might be? Noone can take that away from me either, the unbreakable link between my sense of self and the things that I do, which just makes it sweeter. I do suppose that at this point I ought to be thankful for the opportunity to actually be able to take actions that make any difference in any tangent of existence whatsoever. What would I be able to do as a starving 8 year old with marasmus? Or even as a starving 22 year old? Responsibility. I do cherish it. I never thought I would when I was younger, but i really have developed an appreciation for it.

It’s great feeling to be invested in something, anything, caring about it, and aligning it’s purpose with your sense of your own. That opportunity to escape from your self and all the anchors that it brings, is simply irreplaceable as an experience. It’s almost like stepping into someone else’s nicer car, except that you have a stake here, and you’re still as fired up about whatever it is that you have that stake in. I highly recommend it.

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