3/20/12

De-constructing

i heard this term first time in my first day of law school : deconstruction : with Calvin and Hobbes as the background ;) i did not know a thing but loved calving and Hobbes too much to accept that i did nt know a word! and honestly i have deconstructed ever since, every idea, every thought and every book i have read. and i still enjoy that word : deconstruction!
and problem starts when we start deconstructing ourselves : our moves: our lives : our intentions , our Goodwill's out thoughts everything .. and what do we get in the end : one ball of fur : that can be hidden within the palms of my hands! and yes : i keep deconstructing and i keep thinking : and then comes the point : when we stand at the cross road and then decide whether to grow up or not! and answer has always been a big naaaaaaaaaaa. and will always be a big naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

i have got everything and yet ill sit in the room and get confined to myself. with every liberty in my hand i would not dare to jump off to amazon... with every wish to be fulfilled , it will still be restricted to thoughts ! whats the point . if i am supposed to re-live every day with an imaginary world that i would never enter : its like the woman who always wanted to live in the country side but never had the guts to jump off the city building .. she just stayed behind and yearned for it everyday .

so where was i ? yes, deconstructing . and well i started doing it woody allen : but he had sex and other fallacies for him to take care and my deconstruction looked really boring and pale in front of him . but i knew about human relationships. i knew about human weakness !and i too had a deconstructing story for everyone to hear .

if you keep going back to your childhood one tends to get tired, cmon, it was one of the best days of my life and i keep looking back . deconstruction does not seem to move from there. it stops and lingers and plays a violin to give me a smile on my face. and i do smile . cos i love smiling . and then i just elope to my wonderland and keep thinking why will i like to deconstruct , its not like i am going to learn anything from that , going to change anything from that . not being stubborn . just stating it : was too much in live with my life : to accept any of my myths as reality.

so where does it leave me : deconstructing : de-construct : de: con: struct : de: co : n : str:uct ... and goes on ! thats life ;)

and again i was plagued by the word : deconstructing : and this time it was a movie : deconstructing harry and woody allen as the background : and was too naive to accept that i knew what it meant!

3/17/12

madam bovary

with the french classic fm playing in the background, i had the sudden urge to write : have not written for months . and i would blame the fact that my muse got lost in my upheavals of ego. i would like to write : as i am feeling more than anything now days. i feel for the characters . am back to dreaming about paris , back to getting excited about prospects about being someone's muse and back to staring at sky. does life keep giving you these extreme breaks : and you keep getting these shots without realizing we are falling into the trap of continuous ennui.

with the books : it gives me a feeling that  am looking for a specific character in the books : a woman who is confused : and what level of confusion am i seeking is something i am still confused about . but the woman is confused. i like it when woman are confused and when they trying to justify their acts, their thoughts , their silly dreams, they fears. everything becomes like a elaborated scheme . yes : on one hand have madam bovary who is doing a fantastic job of giving me a great solace and on other hand woman writers are giving me the hope that there does exist this language of confusion. maybe i am looking for a language , and since i am not sure of the script of this language, i keep referring it to as confusion. cos when i was Foucault girl talking about my experiences and she talking about hers : it was all conundrum of thoughts : and i could see the pattern of confusion : just like madam bovary : whose sighs, hysteric convulsions : everything seem to make sense to me .
maybe its not repetition after all, its the inevitable which i have been procrastinating   . things keep happening and after sometime one does realize the pattern . and worse is if one refuses to accept the fate . and one pretends to fight the forces of the nature . and pretends that one is going to change this pattern. one is going to break away from the cycle of repetition. i do not know what is more scary , the thought of breaking the pattern or knowing the repetition and yet reliving it everyday.

so y is woman's hysteria playing such a big role in the backdrop of this repetition. the only thing that keeps me from drowning in my nightmares of thoughts.

if bovary wanted a life, she would have run away but the problem is she would have never run away : just like the Foucault girl , she would have never leapt out of Foucault world. she was right : french world was different from ours. and i was living a life which was neither based in paris and neither in london . i could never understand their pain and neither their romanticism, even though i felt it. and i am still feeling the same what i felt 5 years back. just the degree of it has changed and so has consequences. 

My Women!

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