That rainbow! I found it…

I have always been a fan of the great, the super-geek, Nikola Tesla, and hence I have always felt sorry for him for the way he was unappreciated by the people of those times.

Anyway today I found a rainbow. Well, I should not put it so lightly, let me just re-frame it.

Today, I discovered a rainbow.

I know that rainbow is an already known phenomenon, but the one that we saw behind our company building; that was discovered by me. I and my friend were having our usual stroll after snacks, and like the source of many great discoveries – an unusual decision – I took an unusual decision of telling my friend that today we should walk on the seventh floor and not the fifth floor where we usually walk. And from that potentially ground-breaking decision, came the moment when I saw a part of the rainbow. I stopped walking, called upon my friend, who completely oblivious to the fact that I had found something, was still walking, and even talking. Sad!
Anyway, I called him and took him to the edge of the balcony where I could then see it properly.

It was there. All of the seven colors. “I can see the violet, I have never seen the violet, This one is so bright.” I yelled; he expressed his dangerously overflowing excitement by taking out his phone and clicking some photos of the rainbow; while I still stood there, awe-struck.

After a while, and many weird looks from people around me for shouting things out loud, we moved away from the spot. I saw a lady getting up from her chair inside the cafeteria and walking towards the spot. “That is my spot, she is going to see it now, I should do something to make her realize that I had found it”, such and many other whispers clogged up my brain fruitlessly, while I saw her calling her friends to that spot and soon it was a herd of people, looking at the sky like imbeciles, at the magnificent rainbow, with the violet thing, unaware of the person who had discovered it first.

“I should have done something, like, writing my name on a banner and hung it over there, or spray ‘Discovered by SJ’ with an arrow pointing towards the rainbow on the walls over there” I said to my friend. My friend laughed, he thought it was a joke; it was not.
I looked at him with all the seriousness I could muster and said “Those people near the fence, that crowd, they don’t appreciate my discovery, they don’t even know who discovered it. They are happy with it, excited, but the person who found it for them, is little appreciated. I… ” I looked high up in the sky before completing my speech “I feel like Nikola Tesla”
He looked at me, and laughed again, as he was browsing through the photos he clicked; of my discovery.

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It’s always the small things

Its always the small things.
The big things are easy to find,easy to spot; the big problems, the big fights; they show, they leave a mark very much visible even after they are bygone, quondam.
A broken smile or a clear frown, a slight limp or a visible scar, it can be seen. The effects of the big things show up and unlike the really small things, sharing or talking about it, doesn’t feel futile.
The small things are ignored; given the status of insignificant. The small ones, put those tiny dents, minuscule enough to be ignored. And with every small individual problem comes a small dent, in the mind or the person himself.

But we never share them, do we? Precisely, because they are small. A couple may have fights over the big things, but the really small things? It looks too childish an act to be bothered, or to bother someone, by them. However, small though they are, but every dent it imprints, is a dent nonetheless.

Then comes more dents, one small thing after another. And before you know it, there is one big dent, or maybe a huge crater, in you, and you go through a phase of frequent mental chaos and depression; I guess that is why they call it depression. You are now waiting for a trigger; subconsciously; or a conscious wait.
The trigger can be a big thing, or another small thing. And when you get the trigger, your conversation, your expressions start a trip to a crater that, you wish, should have never existed. You can now connect from the trigger, every dent that led to that depression. You never really knew all of those dents were connected so intricately, but of course they were, they are all on you. You are the connecting link, and now you cannot stop, but let go all of the steam that emanates from this crater.

And if there is a person who is at the receiving end of the steam, he gets not a draft, but a blow so strong that he is shaken. Neither you nor the person who is now shaken, knew that those small dents mattered, but they did.

What happens now? Well the person reacts in the way he would react when he is hit by a strong emotional blow. Some get sad, some angry, some might leave, while some might still stand with you. And even if the one who receives the blow is of the fourth kind, all the agglomerated dents together have impacted, on the person, as a big thing, and hence, it will show.

You now wish that a closed crater with such a trapped deadly steam should have never existed, but you can now only wish. Every dent, every small thing matters. Either by clearing it out or by sharing it, whatever be the method, it should be treated; for its always the small things that matters, the small dents that wreaks havoc; precisely because they are small.

Give me a weird creature

Give me a weird creature.
A creature that is not stupid for lack of brains, but because he chooses to be stupid.
A creature which has abundance, but chooses to ignore it for something trivial.
A creature with eyes to see, but a blind intellect.
A creature which, though can hear, cannot receive; though can touch, cannot feel.
Give me a creature that can forget the womb it came from, the land it thrived on.
A creature so bright, yet so dark at heart.
Give me a creature, that can kill its own kind.
But let that creature have a heart to know love, yet make it hard for it to recognize.
Give the creature, the mind to care, yet a memory to forget.
Make the creature the best that ever lived, yet the most deserving to die.
Give me a weird creature.

But Oh my Angel

I have no place, up in the sky.
I have my ways, but not your style.
And I will one day, just die.
But Oh my Angel, I am still in love with you.

I have no wings, with which to fly.
I have no glory, to abide.
I have a lineage, so full of sly.
But Oh my Angel, I am still in love with you.

I have no grace, my skin is dry.
Not always true, sometimes I lie.
I am just human, I don’t deny.
But oh my angel, I am still in love with you.

I am now bonded, please don’t untie,
You may just go, my soul is thine.
But I will never, ever, say good-bye.
’cause oh my angel, I am still in love with you.

And I will always be,
in love,
with you.

Funny thing about lying to yourself

Funny thing about lying to yourself?
You start with one, or a couple of lies, that you tell to yourself. But then you have to keep adding more lies; keep stacking it. Then it comes to a point where you are surrounded by it, like a wall, but not thick enough to prevent peeps. Hence, you feed the wall with more lies, and soon, there is no padding, no space left between you and your lies; you are covered by it. Soon, you are, the very lies you told to yourself. But you don’t stop creating lies; you now feed yourself with it; with every new friend, every new question, you eat more, making yourselves immune from doubts, and later, preventing yourself from an identity.
Funny thing about lying to yourself?
You may just forget, what the truth was.
For now, the lie is what you live.
For now, the lie, is what, you are.

For a person who had never changed his blog’s appearance since it was  up and running, changing the theme and blavatar for the second time within a gap of less than two months is like a spree. But hey, I finally can tell that I have settled.

I was not peculiarly happy with my recently changed theme and blavatar, I found something lacking, rather, something more than what should have been there. When it  comes to my desired look for ‘Random Nerves’, minimalism and elegance are my words of choice, and with the formerly changed theme and blavatar I kind of found those words partially lost.

But now, it’s all in place. The theme has changed, I have put in a custom header and also, the blavatar; that has changed too, for good. I am truly happy with the new look and I now can stop fidgeting with the themes.

My lacrimal glands – they work after all

I could finally feel tears. Only a drop, but a drop at least.
It has been so long, and so hard; that even after the many times I tried, I still could not ever feel a single drop.
I had almost started to feel that I would never ever be able to cry, no matter what happens to me or in front of me.

A dysfunctional lacrimal gland or tear gland, sounded like an illness, so – ‘I cried the most with a person, and I lost my tears with her’ – is how I explained it to myself.

I saw a video in my downloads folder with the prefix piXx03, a prefix that photos and videos captured from my old mobile phone used to have. As far as I remember, I had cleaned up my downloads folder about a month ago, and as far as my memory served, I am not able to recollect when I downloaded this or even of a place on the internet where this file could possibly be. I might have done something subconsciously, I thought, and went ahead to watch it. It was her. It was a video of her I had captured long back.

The video just had her in it and a song playing in the background, a slow one, it was playing on her cell phone. She was sitting there, on the floor, with her legs bent, and loosely held with her arms wrapped around them. She sat like that, expressionless at first, for a long time; then she looked at me, smiled, said something and then went back to looking to her left. I could not hear what she said as the sound and background noise overshadowed her voice. Her face clearly showed signs of discomfort, some restlessness, something that was bothering her. She looked at me again, now realizing that my phone had video recording turned on. She smiled and I saw more of something she hid within herself. She wanted to speak, I knew she did, back then, and it is so evident that she did, now, from this video. She bit her lips a couple of times, and she looked at me once more. Her eyes talked, and I remember myself listening to them. She knew I listened, she knew I ignored, and, she knew why.

The video ended. 3 minutes and 10 seconds of a past I never really forgot. My face was cold, it felt like my cheeks were shivering, and my vision blurred. I smiled, as a tear drop filled my left eye, and dropped down with a cold streak on my, still shivering, cheek.

My lacrimal glands; they work after all.