Life without backspaces



You are encouraged to read in order:

#1: The lady on the last 4th seat
#2: Black and Luck never met each other



Black and Luck never met each other


1A202, Soulspace Arista Apts,
Doddanekundi, Bangalore

Disclaimer: Believers in God can skip this entry. ;)

Yesterday has been a relatively less busy day in office, which led my puny mind into many thought chains, one of which produced the words followed.

Being born in a hindu/punjabi society, god, religion and faith are few of the most frequent words you get to hear everyday. I have always been the finicky and inquisitive. For years, “Does god exist?" has been the most contentious discussion with my family.

In early phases of my life, when the radical and rebellion characteristics dominated, i would simply deject the idea and would favour atheism. The hatred rose from the “discrepancies" in religions and the superstitions associated with them. Even my family had those “beliefs”, one of which was “Black brings the bad luck”. Things escalated to the fuck-it point and i finally decided to experiment with my life. Around 2014 end/early 2015, i decided i will wear black T-shirt, everyday, and lets see what happens. Well, its July 2017, no catastrophic events yet in past 2 years, in fact, i save minutes of selecting apparel everyday :P.

As i grew up, a more important question came up: “ Do we need the idea of God, or a higher authority? ". My answer, after thinking a lot, was Yes. Why? Simply put, if today people dismiss the idea about God creating the earth in 6 days, tomorrow, they’ll dismiss the part about ’Thou shalt not kill.’ A similar example will be chaos and disorder in absence of the law.

Well, so, ummm, we need the idea of god whether or not it exists, to keep all ducks in a row. But what about science? Go to hell? As Sam Harris said, “ Faith is nothing more than the license religious people give one another to believe propositions when reasons fail. ” So, the difference between science and religion is difference between a willingness to dispassionately consider new evidence and a passionate unwillingness to do so.

With each turn of screw in science, we pull more taut the straps over God’s muzzle, racing towards reality with revelations. While i blatantly accept that i don’t buy the theory of evolution and sometimes consider "a creator” when i look at this intricate design of human body, i sincerely hope that humans find ways to become more loving, which are better than fractures like religious myths and theocracies.

~M




The lady on the last 4th seat


B313, Knightsbridge Apts,
Brookefield, Bangalore


My desk as i write this.

I am writing this in an emotional state as a consequence of leaving a place where i stayed for the past one year, the lovely Knightsbridge Apartments. So, here it goes.

For years i have been thinking of starting to blog but i never got the “perfect” event to start writing, or i guess it was a recipe of too-lazy-to-write and bad-in-expressing-emotions. For the past year, i have been working at Samsung R&D, Bangalore. It has been a tough year, full of sleepless nights, meeting awesome people and learning a lot with every working day starting with a bus to office at 7:45 am. If i had to choose the favourite part of each of those days, it would probably be catching the bus every morning.

This might be due to occasional thrilling events as running behind the bus to catch it at next stop or shrewd observation of the awesome driver stopping the bus for me, noticing me cross the road. In my defence, i have never been a morning person, never was,not am, never will be. In fact, all morning classes in college were accustomed by sleeping on the first bench, being occasionally awakened due to being in trajectory of the professor’s chalk.

But what might be a more prominent reason for liking the bus would be the lady next seat, a seat in front of me. I still remember the first time i noticed her, blurry image though. Every morning, i would sit on the last 3rd window seat on the left and on most (lucky) days, she would be on the last 4th seat, the one before mine. *Every* day i will notice her hiding into her books while i reach my seat, Lolita being the latest one. Everyday i will have an unintentional look at her, in the micro-th second among the 5 seconds i take to reach my seat, and find her reading.

I generally sleep on the 20 minute ride, but occasionally i would wake up for a second, sometimes seeing her through reflection in the glass of the window looking outside and thinking something, sometimes her hand with black-slightly-worn-off nail polish resting against the window, sometimes talking on the phone and will go back to sleep. Why would i care, she was just a stranger! Let me tell you about her, through my eyes, a *really* intimidating personality like a book of philosophy with a hard cover, a thoughtful looking beautiful person who seemed taciturn. She has a great blog, by the way, great is the operative word here.

Everyday, seeing her reading something, sometimes a novel, sometimes a hindu-based-mantra-sth on her phone, i finally *re*started reading, mostly on weekends though. Everyday, for weeks and months, i would think i would talk to her one day before i leave this place but never could. Slowly, over months, her importance grew in my life with her sound of opening the zip of her bag to take out i-card becoming more prominent than that crazy mf speed-breaker (or bus-thriller) as the bus enters the office premises. I realised it because it was breaking my sleep and not that crazy speed-breaker. Finally, that one day before-i-leave was coming close, i had to shift to a place near office, temporarily, before i leave Bangalore and hence I would not take the bus to office.

I kept thinking, why don’t i just go talk to her. But the more important question was, why couldn’t i, till today! I guess it was because of waiting for the perfect moment, or not interrupting her me-time making her uncomfortable, or a combination of many other fears, one of which being getting emotionally attached. I don’t know how, but i always knew she would be an awesome person to talk to, hence this fear.

Oh wait, why is the title of the blog-or-whatever this-is is “Life without backspaces”, its because i plan to write it without using any “backspace”, just like events in life are irreversible, just like those oodles of moments when i decided of not going to talk to her.

Its strange how a stranger affects you to such a great extent that you develop a crush without even talking to him/her ever! Its strange how a stolid person like me would get attached to a person to the point that i would actually feel her absence, strongly! Its strange how i kept waiting for the perfect moment to go talk to her. Its strange how i would unintentionally observe her in those micro-seconds and think she seems an awesome person, without knowing her. Its strange how i will judge my intuitions for her personality by my daily observations. All of this is strange, just like the question “What is life, actually?”.

But, did I talk to her, finally? As of now, only two people in the world can answer that question, me and her.

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