It's 11.44 now, అమ్మ's asleep and Boll Weevil's playing in my years. Everything set for a long post, a long list of revelations, complaints and questions. Ok, hang on, let me stop the song. I can't concentrate. Yea, I re-position my chair. Good now.
So what is it that I want to talk about. A lot of stuff. This line's been stuck in my head, looping over and over again since the last two days or so. First, I'll take it out of the system. You know, people talk about 'being human', about 'all those imperfections, little mistakes etc. which make us human', about 'admitting imperfections'. I spoke about such stuff. I was far too lost out in the cliched world and that was probably my resort to convince people that compromising is okay. Well, since I've said those words, I take them back now. If we are born human, and want to stay human, blushing about all those imperfections, then what is the whole purpose of our existence. I wrote this about two days ago, "they say if you try to be someone else, it's a waste of the person you are. if you die the man you were born, where is the whole purpose of your life. and what does it take to be the person you want to be?". Now, I take a step forward and say, there is no harm in aspiring for superhumanness and no glory in accepting compromise. I don't know why the system has changed so much. As తనికెళ్ళ భరణి was pointing out in an interview the other day, "ఒకప్పుడు మందు తాగటం అని చెప్పడానికి సిగ్గు పడేవాళ్ళు. ఇప్పుడు నలుగురిలో తాగకపోవడం అనాగరికం ఐపొఇన్ది". Why the pride in acknowledging weaknesses. Not that I do not do it, but here I'm also asking myself the same question. Not that people should be cowardly about it, but then shouldn't they atleast have the desire to overcome them. Correct all those they's into we's.
I'm not sure where I heard this, I'm guessing in కోతి కొమచ్చి audio samples but it flows truth. Hang on, let me listen to it again and transcribe it. Here it goes,
ఇవన్ని సరే గని, వీటన్నింటిని మించిన రుచి ఇంకోటి ఉంది. గడిచి పాయిన కష్టాల కథ, ఈదేసిన గోదారి, దాటేసిన గండం, తార్ రోడ్ మీద ఎండలో జోళ్ళు లేకుండా నడిచి నీడకు చేరి సేద తీరిన కళ్ళు, ఈ కష్టాలు అనుభవిస్తున్నపుడు బాధగానే ఉంటుంది గని, అవి దాటి పోయాక వాటిని తలుచుకోవడం, వినేవాళ్ళకి అనుభవాలుగా చెప్పడం, ఆ హాయికి కొత్త ఆవకాయ కూడ సాటి రాదు.
If writer's are those people who can make the heart of the readers beat faster, can make them pant, can make them tremble, can make them cry and can make them shag(though arguably making somebody masturbate is easiest of them all), then ముళ్ళపూడి వెంకటరమణ stands right up there. Something is wrong, I can't focus at all. I lack that purpose and focus to finish this post. Will do it tomorrow. Night.
Ok. I'm back. Was really sleepy yesterday. So, let me finish this post first. A lot of ideas came out today, I'm jotting them all down. Been one fruitful day today in terms of the spectrum of ideas I'm listening to from within. There's so much more to write in this post. So, let's say I chuck it, come back to it later. Till next time, read Cricinfo. I recently discovered their great trove of sportswriters.
And yea, before I forget, I got myself a big A3 size poster of Khajoor Road. GOD.