All that people want to create is something of beauty. Something perfect, immaculate, pristine, pure. And they succeed too, if most of them, in the end do beget a child, thats exactly what they have created. But the child also inherits the imperfections and failings and genetic predispositions towards improper tendencies. And over and above that, the parents also fail, almost always, to give perfect upbringing to their kids and they turn then, less than perfect.

Its an infinite cycle that we repeat. Have repeated, will do, ad infinitum.

Those who deviate from this way of creating beauty. Those who dedicate themselves to some other pursuit, their work, their passion, their bodies, anything other than focusing on the whole plan to create beauty through reproduction, also end up creating things which might be perfect and pure and beautiful in the beginning, but which deteriorate and degrade deform and become totally different than what they started off of as.


In this, we have to understand, is the basic fact. The act of creation is not supreme in itself or the final one. Its the act of maintenance that goes a long way in keeping things in order. Its not as much as cleaning your room but keeping your room clean. Because we all are fighting against attrition by entropy and in this battle, creating things of beauty is not enough. You have to invest energy in it even after the creation in form of fixing it and keeping it in its form.


The individual in the mob, going on a Witch-hunt in the 21st Century

You are a kid, running around the fields with wide open eyes, letting all the lights and colours and happiness to pour in through those windows to your soul, enriching it, making it fuller. People are simple, they look at you and smile, almost all of them do, unless they themselves are far beyond redemption. No one lies to you, at-least not directly. Everybody likes you and wants to play with you.Life is good.

You slowly start to grow up. You enter the school system, meet and make friends there. Most of them are starting off with as simple and honest hearts as yours. They share their breakfasts with you, play and stick by you as much as they can. Junior school still has a certain glow in form of that ignorance and innocence burrowing through from much earlier childhood , still not tarred with the things yet to come.

You move to high school, you start seeing people around you change. By the time they start growing hair on their faces, you observe them caring less about things they earlier seemed to care about . From honesty to true friendship to reciprocity in relations, all of these things start to turn and twist and take malevolent forms(at-least in your eyes) and you are looked down upon and laughed on, for still believing in things that you do, and are labelled ‘naive’ and ‘a loser’ for trying to stick by whatever was pure and genuine in you.


But the fact is that all this while, for all the time you have been trying to remain pure, those same vices you despise around you, sneaks in your subconscious through the backdoor, making their way in and laying dormant there. The more you hate it outside and see it in other people, the stronger it grows inside you, taking control of who you are. It grasps and squeezes out the life from whatever that you might’ve wanted to protect, that thing for which you started all this charade in the first place. And then at one point that which you are keeping inside, the low flame, engulfed in all the darkness that has grown around it which you yourself have facilitated, extinguishes, and that’s it. At that point the devil enters your soul. Despair and fear enters too, which soon transform into panic and insanity . Most of the times it is misdirected and misguided and generally comes out in form of disillusionment, insomnia and irrational and impromptu rage. But then one of these days, or rather nights, because its midnight and you lie twisting and turning in your bed, unable to sleep, you see an angry mob chanting and marching through, outside your home, with pitchforks and burning torches. You jump out of your bed and ask one person in the mob where they are headed. He questions back in amazement, “Don’t you know.. ? that witch who lives down the street, it’s all her fault, why we are so lost and why our town is in such misery.”


The smoke emanating from the place where your flame once glowed, tries to restrict you, tries to stop you, but how can a burnt out flame lighten better judgement? It doesn’t exist. So you get in the mob, rather gleefully and someone hands you another one of those torches. Your transformation is finally complete. You have reached the end of your road.


Every living Nihilist is a Narcissist

Sometimes we feel troubled not because we have thought up some bad thought. Or are afraid of something outside of ourselves. No, none of that, what we are actually scared of, is facing up to the facts, to articulate, truly, what we are feeling and have experienced, because any such articulation would conform to whatever we intuitively already know. And the actual pain is in that minute understanding of our own unique miserable situation.


But what are you supposed to do, when the actual trouble that you are facing is, is to decide how to think about all of that in the first place. Which interpretive framework to apply to correctly, or in nearly correct ways, explain all that is happening to you. If your trouble is that you are afraid to articulate that you actually don’t know, or more appropriately, cant tell about anything with any surety ? A person, who faces the latter kind of problem is more lost ,lost and adrift, in life, than the kind whose problem is that of the former type.

Because the second kind of person is a faithless man, in the truest sense of the word. Not an atheist, not a sceptic, NO, none of those, but a true nihilist. And such a person is, if living, would be a narcissist. Because when there are no abstractions he can conjure up to believe in, his default biological settings take over, and that too in the extreme, and the straightforward answer for him is to be selfish and egoistic and narcissistic to survive and continue living as a nihilist. There are no other ways for him to be.

I am not saying every narcissist is a nihilists but every living nihilist is a narcissist.



What is it exactly, when people talk about it romantically, “Go with the flow.”? What is that even supposed to mean exactly..? The nature of human will is to take firm stands and oppose forces of nature including other human beings. To be firm and unmovable is a quality worth aspiring for, not the polar opposite of it, or it isn’t..?
And what if the thing which we call ‘Love’ is just a superficial, abstract phenomenological development out of the dominance games we play in the society as a means to chose for the best gene pools to be transferred to the next generation..?

But,in the end Who knows definatively? Who could be taken as arbiter of truth? Who can claim such and still not proclaim himself a god? If survival is the only characteristic of existence, I think ‘Mother Nature’ won’t mind losing hundreds of ‘Divine individuals'(as they are known across the individualistic societies around the world) in the bad gene pool, to a good one with a couple of high performing brutes, with ambition strong enough to even shatter mountains with a glance. One which has traits and qualities which facilitates existence of humans in their harsh environments in the coming future and not to hinder this natural process.

Unrequited Love

          There is a certain aura to love that didn’t last, or even didn’t take off, to begin with. There are so many possibilities… , unknown, untraced, left back in an uncharted territory, which was never explored, never came to be, never materialised in the real world. No wonder, it has been of so much importance in lives of people all throughout the ages. Right from poets of such repute as Dante, to writer of such stature as Marquez. This chimera, has attracted attention of, and consumed many people in its liar, over the years.

People are generally drawn towards the unknown, towards places they couldn’t go, to things they were never able to do. We are wired to explore the chaos of existence. And such relationships are our forays in that domain. In the domain of the unknown. If you were with someone and now no longer are, that fact in itself, represents to you , deep down in your subconsciousness, all other worlds you could’ve inhabited where you could’ve been with the person whom you are no longer with. All those unknown worlds beckon you. They draw you towards them. And you feel enticed by them, entangled in them, unable to and unaware of the need to, move on.

Something similar happens when you love someone and he/she doesn’t love you back. That person become the representative of unknown, or in many cases, unknowable, in your world.He/she represent everything that you are not. They represent a world so far removed from yours that you think of all the things you could be in their world, or they in yours. But nevertheless, they signal to you the chaos that lies outside the boundaries of your knowledge, of all the things outside your field of existence, that which you are not, and probably could never be. Places you could never be at, or hardly reach. OF STRINGS OF FATE WHICH YOU CAN NEVER EVER IMAGINE TO UNDULATE.


But that is where we go wrong.. in my opinion.. Because improvement is an unending process and perfection never comes, and even any proximity to it doesn’t come at snap of a finger, but sometime might take generations. There is that saying which goes something on the lines of, “Opposites attracts, same repels”, but in the search of people who are too much different than yourself, you are in a way, challenging a dragon of chaos which is far much bigger and stronger than you are ready to handle, and that dragon could eat you. And that happens with a lot of people,.. in their relationships, the dragon of chaos swallows them alive. So, not to say that the struggle is futile, the search meaningless and the feelings that you feel, unreal.. but sometimes you have to recognise your current boundaries of being and the the limit to which you can stretch them. And yes, that limit might be infinite, but this life is very short, and time is running out fast, and you have already lost a lion’s share of that.

So better move on?

True Love

Do you believe in this.. ? The idea of true love…? That something is so pure out there, so great and so unconditional that it is something that which can save you from yourself…? From your own shortcomings and your own failings…? 

I mean you can very well believe in something like this and still feel inadequate , incomplete and irredimable. Because nothing saves you… , nothing comes along and lift you up by your bootstraps. You have to do all of that yourself . You have your god, and your own unknown self, to an extent, to fill off the gaps of inadequacies and shortcomings in your owb life to live more freely, more openly, and to confront the realities of existence. 

Something, at which, you might be good or bad at. To confront the realities of existence. Depending on your personality as you would have been at that given moment in your life. Because that’s how it is supposed to be. To be and not be at the same moment when it comes to things like this. To be a shareholder in and be a part of a life you mightve never ever thought of for yourself in the long run..? Right…?

(Note – The picture is of the character of Carmela Soprano, from the tv show, Sopranos, a character, using which, all these themes I talk about, are explored in great detail over the course of the show, and something that made me think about all this stuff)

Existential Balance

The struggle in the social domain, I think , on an interpersonal level, is to find a balance between the Darwinian power struggle in the evolutionary realm, and the bonds of compassion and understanding we forge with strangers to form an in-group, in the long term, where we can rely on each other, and trust each other and mean something to each other in this life.

The struggle is always there, on an underlying level, the primordial , animalistic struggle to dominate over one another. At the same time, there is an urge to form connections with people around us, to live harmoniously and peacefully, and if possible, to whatever extent, blissfully, juggling these balls of tension and cohesion concurrently and finding a way through existence.

Sopranos Existentialism

Sopranos shows us that only if those people ,who are living the most accomplished of lives in fields where they are confronted by the existential suffering of being much more acutely than the rest of the population, could have the insight and the vision, or develop one to become self realised enough to become aware of their “condition”, then the idea is presented with much more authority and rigour than when being pontified by a pot smoking, pot bellied virgin, nobody , who lives a miserable existence.


You are sitting in a vehicle and always looking toward the front , of things coming your way, or you anticipate them coming your way. Never looking at the things passing you by.

 Those things which you are anticipating to come, approach slowly at first, then rush towards you and pass you by in a blip, but by the time they approach you, you have already lost interest in them and your focus of attention has shifted towards the next upcoming thing. This is the basic difference between a child and a grown up travelling in a vehicle. While the child is mostly enamoured by his immediate surroundings, the thing passing him by in the present moment, adults are not. And even for this they are not to be blamed, they have already lost their keen senses of perceptions, needed to live in the here and now, long back, and even if they try to focus on their present surroundings, they won’t be successful due to their short attention spans.

Melancholic Nights


In one of the rooms which are made specifically on the rooftops, away, aloof from the world, where even the winds come swirling in unsure and unconfident strides.. where only those kinds of antisocial people reside on whom rest of the world has given up hope on, and more importantly, those who have given up hope on the rest of the world, in quite nights when a cold wind is gripping the world outside,making the ceiling-fan in your room unnecessary, something which might’ve obstructed you from noticing other, fainter sounds ever present in the background. The same winds forcing people deep into their cosy beds and quilts, in arms of their loved ones, babies and pets snuggling up to their mothers and owners and lovers trying to disappear in their partner’s bosom, by hugging them tighter than they usually do, you hear the sound of some distant horn blown on a far away road, carried all the way to you by the gushing winds, along with the howls and cries of dogs and other nocturnal animals , living out their daily, often overlooked,  primordial struggle for existence, and maybe a guy talking over on his phone , softly, yet quite distinctly as he paces up and down the narrow passageway by the side of his house,his conversation over phone made all too clear by the dead silence of the night, and you can make out he himself is talking to someone he loves, someone in whose embrace he might like to disappear in, in these cold nights.

Sounds of distant horn of trains leaving and arriving at the nearest railway station reach you too. All these ambient ‘noises’, which remain more or less the same no matter which city, which part of the country you are in , as part of an ever existent background setting,unchanging, at-least in comparison to our time frames , i.e moving and changing too slowly for us to notice, still always present there, right at the corner of our perceptions, our daily struggle to pay the bills, our worries and hopes , our success and failures, our dreams and our realities.

Only on these special cold nights, when everything stands still, except for that cold breeze that is blowing outside , you notice these sounds and realise that your place in the world is not defined by the post that you hold in your office, or the money that you have in your bank account, but by the people you collect along your way in life. Because only those who truly care for you, make the world for you.. rest of it is just .. ambient ‘noises’ and surroundings , unconscious and uncaring of your existence or your absence in this vast vast universe.