Writers Block

Maybe this blog was fundamentally misconceived, I might have slightly missed the point that a Graduate Student only gets enough alone time to piss and take a shit, that's it. It's been around 5 months since my last post on my blog. Which it seems, thankfully, nobody reads. In these 5 months I have matured more than in the last 22 years of my life. I have missed everything that I held dear. I am lost for words to describe all that has happened to me. It is as if I have been playing the protagonist in all of Shakespeare's plays. A midsummer night's dream; to start with; some Romeo and Juliet except mine isn't above on a balcony but 14,000 kilometers away but I am, it seems, as cursed as poor Romeo was. I just hope that the ending mirrors All's Well That Ends Well. But provided I find a little time now and then I'll try and update my blog or else my Writers Block will prevail.

I MISS MY CAMERA

Earth is young, God is still a child and the only playthings He has are a hammer and a chisel. So He goes berserk like any nice kid would and decides to chisel away at will. He cuts into rocks and mountains and He uses all the tricks in His book. It takes him a long long time even by his mighty standards but what He ends up with is a sight that any human with his brain in the right place would crave for. Voila He gives us the Colorado river Canyons and its crown jewel the Grand Canyon. Lino the Italian travelling along with me from JFK to SFO calls it "Il Spettacolo". Indeed. I miss my camera.

BUMPY NOTHING

Nothing in my experience has been as bumpy as nothing. Considering that my United Airlines flight 983 is riding on the veritable nothingness of thin air in the upper echelons of the atmosphere and has been bouncing like a roller coaster multiplied a zillion times that statement at the begining will seem self explanatory. Oh I forgot I am sitting by the window on the last seat. The presence of the same nothingness was responsible for spilling half a cup of the two cups of coffee that were supposed to take away the throbbing of my brain. And the only thing the remaining cup and half has been able to take away is my sleep which after twenty three hours of flying is more precious to me than a canteen of water is to a beduin crossing the Sahara.

UNIMAGINATIVE LARGE BOXES

I am flying over the American midwest and America seems to be quite an unimaginative place from up in the air. The whole country is divided by straight lines. Point to point connectivity with no curves in between. Curves are an utterly unimportant waste of time and should be left to the european, with his stiff upper lip, to admire between his cups of tea or espresso, depending on which part of europe you are in. When I see this and think about the perfectly entropic view I would get back home in India in a similar situation. I cannot help but admire it. Well yeah it might be inefficient but it looks damn right pretty from an airplane. The only sense of entropy out here is the dendronic greenery which looks like someone got very bored dividing this wonderful country up into unimaginative large boxes and then took out his ink pen and splattered ink all over it. I love it. But America needs more curves. Because curves are fun and I guess all pubescent and post pubescent men and women would agree.

THE LONGEST DAY OF MY LIFE

Sahnawaz gave me this diary today. I dunno if I should be writing "today" because today I saw two sunrises and one sunset. I have been flying continuously, except for the transit at New Delhi IGI for God knows how long and both my body and mind are unaware of where yeaterday, tomorrow and today have got all muddled up. I guess you can call this a sort of time travel. I really do not know what the actual time should be right now. And the AI on-flight is not showing the flight map that is usually does.
Below, far below my window is the unfamiliar sight of a sea of rolling white clouds. From up here they all resemble huge bundles of cotton or maybe something else that is soft and fluffy and white, I do not know what to call it. The distant horizon is a red line glowing brilliantly within which is our all so familiar Sun but he looks more benevolent from up here I do not know why. The airhostess gave me a confused look when I asked her what the temperature outside would be, but returned some time later and said it would be in the minus hundreds. Oh that is because the Boeing 777 Stratoliner flies above the stratosphere at the veritable boundary of our atmosphere.
Now I will tell you why I have been writing all this. Because I have been feeling homesick already. I am missing Ma, Baba, and Jeetu. I should not have let them come to see me off. It hurts such a lot. I have been sleeping in snatches all this while and everytime I close my eyes I see Ma's sobbing face. I see Jeetu hugging me and not letting go, I see Baba pretending he is made out of steel but patting my back to let me know how much he will miss me. I love you all so very much.

LEAVING ON A JETPLANE

I am on AI 101 CCU-IGI-JFK seat number 27A and the feeling is as close to heavenly as humanly possible. I just saw Howrah bridge from a few thousand meters above and it looks wonderful. It is 9:30 at night and I feel like I am witnessing a million diwalis at once. I have listened to John Denver crooning my favorite song an "n" number of times and I do not think I'll get tired of it anytime soon. It is between 200o and 5000 meters above that you realize how paltry all of man's creations are compared to mother earth's. Any higher and you will begin to lose the point because you will be too far above. From up here at night, we look like ants huddling around, petering into and out of Lego blocks. A huge number of them. We are a civilization of Lego blocks that is.