Suspended Animation

I'm on autopilot, just going through the motion
I'm alive, but in suspended animation
I'm not present, I'm lost in contemplation
I feel so small, I've lost all sense of proportion


There's no real problem, just my warped perception
What's wrong perhaps is my misguided interpretation
All stemming from an unrealistic expectation
But I can't free myself from this unhealthy obsession


No dearth of advice, each with good intention
I hear everything, nothing elicits any reaction
Disappointed, they accuse me of procrastination
They never understood my consternation
This nemesis of mine is my own creation
I'm stuck in suspended animation...


P.S
I've been told that the rhyme is a constraint but I think I've used whatever space I could within it to put across the idea.

Rediscovery of Faith

I’d say I was born into faith and later grew out of it, though not completely. I believe faith, for the majority, is an inheritance. It’s existence pre-dates our own. In a manner our parents proselytized us. I was born a Hindu and raised a Hindu. It became my reality. I was ‘introduced’ to a lot of dieties, all of whom apparently were very rich coz they had ‘properties’ everywhere Mom and Dad took us for family outings. I was taught to pray to them coz that was what you had to do to make your wishes come true. Of course, I had no reason to doubt any of this… mothers never lie, do they?

It was all well until I was put in a school where I had to stand up and chant a variety of hymns three times a day. The new ‘obligatory’ tag that came with prayer took the feel-good factor out of it. It became more of a chore. By the time I was done with that place I’d been unwittingly de-proselytized. The process was aided by a new awareness that intentionally I’d not been ‘introduced’ to a few ‘other’ Gods whom some of my ‘other’ friends got along well with. Other catalysts were the realizations that miracles were too few to be convincing and that the rhetoric surrounding answered prayers were based on a flimsy premise.

Then came the rebel phase. I took it upon myself, seeing as how it was my constitutional right( Article 19(1)(a)   ;P ), to question everything. Meanwhile, God was forgotten. Well, not quite. Break-ups are messy and I wasn’t ready for one. Me and God were just not-talking-to-each-other. I would taunt with status updates like “theist by force of habit” and later I’d try and propose a truce with “atheist who prays occassionally”.

This self-centred state of mind served me well for a few years. I thought I was about ready for the inevitable break-up….  but suddenly Identity cisis struck when I went from being a final year Btech student to a jobless Btech graduate. For a while it felt like the whole world was conspiring against me. It scared me. It felt like my existence was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. I felt powerless. Occassional prayers started becoming frequent. I started doing the touch-your-forehead-and-touch-your-chest thingy regularly when I passed near temples. I kept telling myself these were nothing major. It didn’t necessarily mean I was deserting my rationalist contemporaries.

But today I found myself taking off my shoes and entering a temple. I prayed with folded hands. I didn’t even stop my hand from reaching for sandal paste and applying it on my forehead. I don’t know what I am anymore. I know I’m far from being ready for a break-up. I’m afraid I’m entertaining thoughts of marriage and settling down. Maybe it’s time to get over my commitment phobia.

Trance…..

Am I dead…?

I can’t feel my legs… or my arms… where am I…?

Don’t panic… don’t panic… breathe… just breathe… wait… I can breathe… I’m not dead… I’m not dead…..

Oh god it burns… my chest… feels like I’m breathing fire….. Fire!!! am I a dragon now…?

Wait… how…? re-incarnation…? is this shit possible…?

But why a dragon…?

Dragon… oh… oh, Khaleesi… Mother of dragons… embrace me… and protect me… hold me against your ample bosom…..

No No No No No stop… why am I thinking of Game of Thrones now…?

Wait… if I could just open my eyes and see where I am… come on now… lift them… come on… you can do it….. Fuck! eyelids are so damn heavy…..

Shit, it’s so cold… someone please switch of that fan… Fan! Oh my god, yes… I can hear the fan…I’m in a room with a fan… but… which room…? my room…?

No… can’t be… the floor is so cold… and damp… huh…? why am I lying on the floor…? and why is it so damp…? it’s freezing my ass..

Wait… my ass…Oh shit! where are my pants…? my clothes… where are my fucking clothes…? No No No No No… can’t let anyone see me like this… cover up your junk you fool… come on…

my arms… can’t move… my arms… Noooo… No No… stop… don’t panic… breathe… Noooo… No… can’t… can’t breathe… head… spinning… Noooo… please… stop the spinning… stop it… please… I can’t… can’t stand it… can’t breathe… I’m floating… spinning… floating away… this is it… I’m dying… floating… into oblivion… I’m coming… I’m coming George Clooney… wherever the hell you floated off to… I’m coming… there’s no gravity anymore… there’s no nothing anymore…

F    : Dude, wake up… come on man… wake the fuck up…

Me : Hmmmm….. my head… hurts… where am I…?

F    : You’re at my place and you look like shit… was it your first time yesterday…?

Me : Uh.. yeah.

F    : Thought so. You passed out on the floor. Now, put some clothes on and get outta here. You’ve got class in 15 minutes.