I can't come up with a title

What a stunningly crafted movie Hyderabad Blues is. I'm surprised I never got around to watching it in full despite it being 1. based on Hyderabad, 2. Nagesh Kukunoor's first movie, and 3. India's first Indie movie. Oh! boy I love it. And it brings me great nostalgia, for an Hyderabad that once existed, that I once knew and something I can't ever bring back. It let me peek into the lives of my uncles, who were among the immigrants before the Y2K, and the cost at which they left everything that they ever knew to arrive in the Land of Opportunity. Dollar Dreams and The Namesake have had that effect on me too. Leaving home is mandatory for every human. But everybody wants to leave home when they want to, not be pushed away. That is the pathetic truth of our times. I'm digressing. Elahe Hiptoola is a huge bomb in a small package. Its has been really long since I've seen an everyday woman look so carefree on the screen. Loved her.

Its been really long since I've wanted to write so badly. I know I ain't doing a great job but then that's because I'm rusty as hell. Even Garcia Marquez had to wake up everyday and type in stuff. What am I next to him, a mere mortal. Just found Agnee Manmani. Playing in my ears. Love it. Agnee has this knack of making music that is totally hum-mable unlike my other favourites. I'm so fucking confused. My life's in doldrums. Well and truly so. I don't know what I like, I don't know if this is right, I'm surprised at how boring adult life is, I am lazy as hell and I wish I could do something about it. Fuck, back to rants. This is probably the one thing that I do so well. I've been trying, emulating figures I like but it doesn't seem to be working out. So, I'll quit trying to be someone else and bring my old self back. Why the fuck am I turning into somebody I've always detested? Narcissistic. I want to write, a story, and I don't know what is stopping me. Growing up is such a pain. The independence is there but so are all the factors stopping you from enjoying it. No, not just the external ones. The much more powerful ones like responsibility, maturity, behaviour in the public and shit like that. And the great right to make excuses. You know what I mean. You would if you are stuck in the evolution of growing up. I don't know if my behaviour is acceptable. I don't know if I should change it. And I don't even know what acceptable is anyway.

There's all this furious energy about me that I'm turning outward. Maybe I should turn it inwards. Should answer a few questions. Anyway, where was I. Yea, growing up is such a pain. Every moment of life is a world in itself, every breathe contains miracles of the universe and every footprint of your existence has thousands of memories connected to it. Dreaming as a kid about the future is so much better than running away from the past as an adult is. Despite the good and the bad, past is scary. Either you want to change things or you know you can't be that you again. WTF. And why am I contemplating so much suddenly. I don't really know. But I'm fed up with my office, the kind of lifestyle I have right now, at the fact that I ain't doing anything that I want to, and for fuck's sake I can't stick to anything for more than a week. There was literature, music, work, rural development, travel and more shit. It is actually surprising how I manage to shelve everything, everything, that I start. And like all this fuck isn't enough, I crib about it up my blog. Well, on a positive note, all these bytes of memory will give some credibility to my existence. Like they say, it is better leaving shit behind than being totally forgotten. Like they say? Who the fuck is they? Ok, I just made that shit line up.

Writing down a To-Do list is easy. Following it is almost impossible, even though obviously, it contains all the things you've always wanted to do. It makes life worse. Not having an ambition is bearable. Having one and not working towards it is worse. I just wrote my 43Things last week or so. Not really ambitious but I want to get them done. Now, I know what I want to do, I know what will take me there and I also know that I need to start working towards some of them. And I still ain't. Does that make me deplorable? I don't know about that but it gets me depressed. All week I dream about the weekend and on the weekends, I dream about stuff I should be doing and condemning myself for not doing that. Amma thinks I need meditation. I think, I don't know. Am I abnormal? Or does everybody feel like this? All these super athletes, artists and others, how do they manage to do all they do? Love stuff after all these years. Find inspiration to wake up every morning to do the same thing that they've done all their lives, but a little differently, for the better. What do I lack? Ambition? Drive? Motivation? Or sheer indifference to life? The kind of shit I talk at work, my totally useless preaches that I'm known for, all this falls in front of my eyes. Whenever I look at myself from a third person point of view, I feel disgusted. And add to that, I found Eagleman's essay last week where what I understand of it is the fact that whatever you are, you are because of your DNA and you can do nothing about it. Sorta like Scientific version of Destiny.

Its been a long time since I've felt this shitty. All the time, I've wanted to be something, anything. Now, I am truly indifferent about it. I'm frivolous, easily distracted, shallow and truly a waste of God's greatest creation. Pretty similar to the life of Michael K. He was a genius though. He was able to drive away ambition from his thoughts. I want to read, I don't. I want to run, I don't. I want to play, I don't. They say there are doldrums before the storm arrives. My most optimistic self tells me, the storm arrives precisely because of the doldrums. They let the environment brew. I don't know how true that is, though I will soon enough.