Revering Thoughts

Opinions About Everything

Category: Random Philosophy (Page 2 of 11)


From the corner table

As I apprehensively looked around to cross-check whether someone’s noticing me or not, only to realize that no one gave a damn, I ducked deeper in my seat. 
The human emotional shift is worryingly fast. It is a mixture of many unflattering lows to exaggerated highs.
I sipped down my Latte. Wondering in the process as to why I ordered this and not the usual; and trying hard to make sense of the song playing in the background. The voices across the table seem to overtake that song. Laughs, I should say instead.
Canceling out noise without your earphones is nearly not possible. How do we get to the ‘zone’ without being on a high? With a passion, of course. Naah.
At least grabbing the corner-most seat proved to be less intrusive. The trafficked road’s view hinges on noises of a varied variety. The travel plans, the arranged-marriage wali date, the b-plan discussion, the selfie/minute gang as well as the only-one-guy-shouts in the group and the odd guy hitting down on their keyboards. Work, I believe.
Typically, I dislike waiting. Although, I am, currently.
Unless I can do something productive. And that’s why it’s difficult to fathom the reason as to why that guy being, staring at the wall all by himself, is doing.
I was in two minds on taking a day off from work but it feels it was important to lay back. The weekend is still there, but they’re usually hectic. At least socially.
True, I’m investing this time in my reverential observation of the general audience but I won’t call it wasting my time.
Would you?

What does Death teach us?

Looking around, I find strength in the idea of the destination being all-that-matters is quite a reality. But irrespective of how hard I push myself, I fail to comprehend the notion of it. Not that I don’t empathize with it or a part of me even relates to it, the thought seems to conflict with what I’ve learned in the quarter of an idealistic lifetime. Uncertain lifetime, of course.
Funny thing is, no one has any idea on what that destination is. And yet, they (and a part of me, sadly) wants to rush there. All trying to steer to a place they can find the comforts of the world.
Being laid back for this journey is not an option.
For a second, let us all think of death. Yes, your own death. It won’t knock. It will come unannounced.
All the stress we take. All the future planning that we spend hours on, will simply be for nothing.
I’m not excluding myself from this. And neither should you. You, the one thinking, I have time.
Our complex life is a result of our own doing. Yes, everyone thinks their life is especially complex than others. Our romance with our own past struggle is gloriously insane. For the lack of a better adjective. True, nevertheless.
They say, ‘It doesn’t matter how you reach there, what matters is, whether you made it or not’.
A part of me wants (badly) to believe this and reach for those societal goals. A part of me is lazy enough to not care.
Both are wrong. And right.
Moonlit sky

Filling it up!

A box with 24 different sections lies empty in front. Scattered pieces of fittings, big and small, asking me to pick and put ’em inside that box.
As I look at the moonlit sky and the reflecting stairs outta this window, I give it a thought. A sequence forms in my head. A plan to fit most of those pieces in that box. My eyes hum a different tune altogether. My already tired body doesn’t seem to enjoy the view. The pull of the pillow is stronger today.
Planning how the 24 would be stacked together has never been my forte, anyway. How would today be different?
There’s just too many things to fit in numbered sections. Few will be left out. But isn’t that the norm?
Somehow I try to fit a few extra ones to push and close the box. Wishing, in the process, that it doesn’t blow up in my face. Like always.
It’s not that bad. It’s just normal.
Perfectly packing up the 24 isn’t possible. There’ll be a surplus on a few things and deficiency in others.
We’ll be happy to have a few things and might feel just the opposite emotional sets based on what comes after we let the box open up.
That’s just like another day. Oh, wait, what was I talking about, anyway?
John Nash

Oh Sorry! I forgot your name

Of all the things despicable, ‘Oh Sorry! I forgot your name’ should rank pretty high on the list.
Worse is, when you can actually tell that it’s all a charade to simply ‘act cool’.
I understand people forget names. Even I do. There are occasions when I’m narrating a story and I go like, ‘Arey Kya naam tha..‘ and stretch my eyeballs close like a kid who is trying to remember an answer. We’ve all done that!
And this question can belittle your ego quite a bit. Especially when all you have is your false sense of ego. *Coughs*
If I forget someone’s name, I simply carry the conversation without asking their name and later joining 2+2. Same goes with phone numbers too.
I know you must be thinking, ‘Why to bother so much, just ask them their name directly. ‘. Right? But when you’ve studied in the same class for years or worked in the same company, it gets irritating when people ask that!
And if that’s your idea of making ‘small talk’ then, Woah!
In a world where our name is what matters above all. I take it personally. After all, why would I rant so much about one stupid silly question?
Or maybe I had nothing new to write. Maybe. Yeah, maybe. Still, don’t ask that question!
Unless you’re really cute!

TV shows

While binge watching another season of “The Good Wife”, one particular episode intrigued my professional curiosity. If I may say so.

The TV series, The good wife, is a court-drama and the lead is arguing on a case related to Search Engine optimization or SEO! Of course, apart from feeling a little extra excited, I couldn’t help but be in awe of the writing. They made sure the technicalities of SEO were accurate to the T. Especially when this particular season of the show was aired in 2012!

You know those ‘hacking’ scenes they show in movies and how they are just not accurate. I usually considered, by default, most of those as a dumbed down version of what actually happens! 

Television writing for most of American Shows is crisp and intellectually engaging. Not all shows work for everyone, but the quality of Television writing is axiomatically brilliant.  Even the blink-and-miss characters are pretty well-defined. 

At least the writing on Indian Web-series has started picking up if not the Indian TV, which continues to be the same. But maybe we’ll skip the ‘Television’ altogether just like most of India jumped to Mobile phones before Landlines could spread their wires across. A very unusual comparison, but why not ? 

Thankfully, Internet isn’t censored as our Television or Films are; and with numerous investments from YRF to Balaji, along with the existing TVFs and AIBs, can breathe in a something exciting in terms of writing. 

Which show are you hooked on to ?


There’s a certain weirdness in having knowledge of everything that goes on around you. 

The good. The bad and the ugly. Especially, the ugly. 

One particular friend of mine starts off the ‘once-in-a-quarter phone call with Aur kuch gossip bata? 

I don’t usually have any. But she sure does.

We all crave for the, ‘So, what’s going on with that person?’ 

However, on the rare days when I forget my earphones at home, there’s a lot that goes in my ear, other than Ed Sheeran’s Shape of you. And what’s with the song ?! 

Of the many things, I realise people talk a LOT at workplace! I mean, way too much! Of late, I’m even fed with the knowledge of their breakfast menu, their spouses, in-laws, and sooooo many variations of ‘laughter’. 

Every ringtone in a far off cubicle is like an RFID tags that is way too loud for making their presence felt. Even in the washroom. I mean who attends this call along with the nature’s?

In the midst of it all, I miss a few of my colleagues. The discussions. The breaks. The fun. 

Now, forgetting my earphones is akin to attending class without getting an attendance!

People talking-out-loud is just too much information. The one I don’t need. 

The absence of Goal Clarity


A light drizzle, fluttering winds and my resolve of finding silence in the midst of all the honking from traffic jams few meters away. 

All this, when the lights are off. You see, electricity and rains don’t like to meet. 

While talking to Ammi, she mentions the same. Although it’s a relief to have rains when Summer is almost on the door. 

Did someone whispered, “Spring” ? A little loud, please ?

English Medium!!!

Intrestingly, if you ask people, they’ll have their ‘favorite’ season. Rains, Winter or even Summer. The answer is ready!

But frankly, no one likes any one of them. They all like bits of it. 

(Look at me with my ‘they’. As if!!)

No one enjoys the excess of any of the three seasons. Like Summer is fine as long as we’re under the fan. Or preferably an AC! Ice creams. Vacations. And yes, Mangoes. 

And when it rains ? The obsessing over the smell of the soil, bhutta, bhajji, chai. 

Winters make sure that we like the Sun. Becoming lazier than we are. And a mission to help us save the previous water. 

I have to think a little harder to compile a list of what I don’t like. And you know why is that ?

(Rhetorical. Do you think I wait for your Yes?!)

We forget the things we don’t like about these seasons quite easily. Like we crave for rains as soon as the heat goes up and then complain, Why does it rain so much?!

Holistic. We are not. When we think. 

But then, where’s the fun, when we don’t have anything to whine about ?

Shattered Pride

Growing up, we’ve always felt proud of something. A possession. An inheritance. A talent. 

We’ve all been the Kareena Kapoor from Kabhi Khusi Kabhi Gum in our own subtle way. Or in an outrageously similar way.

The pride, fuelled by the society’s idea of what constitutes good-to-have, has grown with us. 

More than the happiness that buying or possessing something, it is the pride associated with having it before someone else. 

It’s normal. Part of human nature. Even the animals. Perhaps.

Our cravings are a result of immitating the same pride on display in others. It is the feeling of replicating that feat that pushes our cravings. In a way, we are after the ‘defined acheivements’ that can introduce us to that feeling. 

Over time, we end up managing to acheive a few of these. Even naturally we are blessed with a few of them. We don’t differentiate in feeling proud either way. It doesn’t matter how they come, as long as they are coming our way. Right?

But the problem is- Nothing’s permanent. It all changes. It all fades away. They all get shattered. To pieces-big and small. 

What’s worse is, being proud of those very things becomes the reason for this. At least in our head. And in others, too.

You look back on what you had then. And what you don’t have now and a dozen ‘Why’s’ fly around your head. 

Without answers, of course. 

reading on the beach


Today is the 92nd day of the year and as per my resolve of writing-every-day of the year, ideally this current post should be the 92nd post.

But then, Ideally, right?

This happens to be the 86th post as I’ve eaten up 6 posts already!

The last two days have been especially difficult to take time out to write. Not that I did not have any content to write on, but there were just too many things to write on, and in the struggle to decide which way to go and battle with my lazy weekend self, I just cold not write.

I planned to write the whole day and even woke myself up in the morning, but just couldn’t get the keyboard moving to type down words for me.

But finally I got myself to come out of my room, cycled my way to this nice place called Starbucks, ordered their fairly expensive coffee and while sitting near the window overlooking the Kormangala road, finally completed the Gokarna Travelogue in one sitting.


I’m yet to add the lovely pictures to the post and hence will upload the same on the other side of the Prime Meridian.

In the hurry to get out of the room and get started on the writing part, I’ve forgotten to bring my charger along, and the battery signals me that it needs food. Like me. But hey, at least I got some work done. Right?

But hey, at least I got some work done. Right?

reading on the beach

The Old man in the beach

As I sat down, after an hour-long stroll at the beach, with a book to read and the sound of waves and the fading heat of the sun gave me company. Solitude is best at the farewell hours of the sun. At a beach. Sunsets are beautiful!

The Gokarna beach isn’t the most crowded. Or perhaps our timing couldn’t have been better to plan a trip to the coastal slash temple town at the borders of Karnataka and a little before Goa.

The beach had families offering puja at one of the corners and just around the time of sunset, something very interesting happened.

This old man, aged around 80, stripped down to his langot to offer the Surya Namaskar. The devotion he had in offering it was amazing. After a few dips and when the sun was almost about to exit from the frame, he went back to put on his briefs and brought with him two empty bottles. At first it looked as if he was draining out something from the bottles but he was actually filling them out to carry it back. I was more intrigued by the process that this old man as. At one point in time when a priest standing nearby tried to help him, his reaction of ‘let me do it my way’ was enough for him to stop. Old people don’t like interference. They know their ‘process’.

When he was finally done, he cleaned himself up, dressed up and walked back towards the road with two bags on his shoulder.

I don’t know whether that was part of a religious custom or not, but the dedication of the feeble old man was amazing. The look on his face was speaking something. As if he’s finishing a duty. For a second, I thought I’ll ask him or even help him pick his bag, but it didn’t felt right. He wanted to do it himself.

As I sit with my laptop after a tiring day of trekking (sort of) and travelling in the humidity, I’m reminded of the old man. Maybe, it gives me a window of ‘what-ifs’ of my own old age or just remembering the old ones who really mattered. And still, do.

In your Opinion ?

I’m currently watching a TV-show called, “The Good Wife” and about to finish the 2nd season. So, no spoilers, please.
The show has the backdrop of a law firm and a lot of legal jargons, courtroom dramas, etc. One of the recurring judges has the habit of asking the attorneys to add, ‘in my opinion’ at the end of each statement. For e.g, if the defense claims that the accused is not guilty of the charges, the lawyer arguing his case will have to say, ‘Your honor, my client is innocent, in my opinion’.
As much as it appears funnily annoying and makes the judge appear to be a jerk. It makes so much sense.
If you can re-imagine all the conversations you’ve had with ‘in my opinion’ you would never be taken for a ride.
Everything one says is an opinion. Even this piece you’re reading now, is an opinion.
I’ll let you in on a Trade secret. Not such a big one, though.
From the time I started writing Movie reviews (, I’ve made sure to not read its review before I watch the movie. Even though I write and want people to read my reviews, I strongly believe (again, in my opinion) that it’s so easy to form an opinion on the movie based on what I’d read prior to watching it. It isn’t like I don’t read reviews but I read them after I’ve written mine.
Sure, we believe someone’s opinion based on their credibility. It does take time for people to build that credibility.
And that’s why all the propaganda starts with making you agree on few aspects of the message to help build their credibility. The brainwash requires a long chain of knots, tied slowly, to chain you up.
People have to realize that a large section of the society, once they’ve build a sizable credibility, will try to reap a few fruits out of it too.
It is critical to have the filter of ‘in their opinion’ to every news, every speech and every action. In the age of cheap social-media driven PR, anyone can become a hero or a villain. The only thing that matters is, whose opinion people give-in easily.
P.S. In my opinion.

There’s a lot in a name

This story popped up on my Timeline a while back.

It describes the ordeals of a 25-year old who faced difficulties in getting a job because of his name.

Saddam Hussain.

It reminded me of how we, as kids who were to appear for our Matriculation exam in the following year, were surprised. Surprised to learn that our friend, whose name was Saddam, has decided to change his name.

If I recall correctly, most of us were of the opinion that its just paranoia. We were kids without the knowledge of how the real world functions. I’m glad he changed his name and avoided unwanted troubles.

I also happened to know a really nice guy with the name Osama. He never changed his name and its been years’ since i met him and he will definitely have a long list of interesting stories to tell.

I do wonder what do people with my namesake are doing ? Will I be responsible for actions they commit or are even blamed for ?

Saif Ali Khan and Kareena Kapoor had to face a lot of trouble for naming their baby, Taimur. Although, I’m glad they did not change it!

Choosing a name is no more limited to auspicious time or letters. A quick Google search of all the infamous personalities is now part of the checklist as well.

Shakespeare wasn’t far-sighted enough, I guess. There’s a lot in a name. Not everything is Rosy after all.

Page 2 of 11

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén