Learning and lost

Again, I am going to blow this thing out. I recently read in Scientific American that Blogging has it’s own therapeutic values. “Great”, I think. I am receiving that therapy pretty easily, without knowing. I think I learn from experience, I really cannot learn from somebody, if only he tells me that. I realize now; standing on the edge of breaking myself, I have to play harder, I had to play harder! I didn’t. And, the net result, “A very important person lost trust in me…”, I don’t blame him of course, I cannot, as it was me who couldn’t qualify in IITJEE. And now when I just shout out “I going for SAT”, obviously most of the people will consider me MAD. Maybe I am MAD, but I know that I learned, though a bit late. I really learned from life. I visited IACS for a summer school, there they reignited my soul for science; and now after the declaration of the results, I am lost again. They are saying, “You have be a good academic to get a considerable position in Science, and your past academics is really dull”. I know that, but I cannot tell them that I learned. If I am all wrong, that I didn’t learn this time too, then what is the meaning of life to me. I need not to live anymore, as I will never learn, I will go down down and down, and ultimately… and if this is the situation, then I can try the hard way, I am in no hurry for dying!

I am getting a bit depressed I think. And I really am very very confused, blogging a kind of precious hobby to me, I just cherish the thought that someone will read, and give me some words of wisdom.

And amidst all these thoughts, the girl is fading away, just as Physics is fading aways from my life, my mind and my soul. Both of those entities are important to me, Physics and SHE, BOTH! But both are getting out of my hands, I cannot impress her, I cannot do physics. What am I worth? Dammit!?

Cognitive claustrophilia

I, always dream, I like to dream, I watch my dreams like movies, I make my dreams, imagine events of the future, of a successful future. Ironically it seems that the actual extrapolated most probable events are far away from my imagined events. But I still imagine, imagine my desires fulfilled. I prefer to be inside the labyrinth of my dreams, the dreams that make me think of everything, “easy as pie”; the dreams that always say, “Do it tomorrow, why awake late at night?” There are also dreams that say, “You can do it, you are talented, where is your pride?, there are dreams that allow me to dream other dreams, paint many more illusions. And this is my habit. I like to stay inside the labyrinth of dreams.

Now, It’s late at night, I am awake. I will break the habit tonight.

paragraphs

I sometimes over convince myself a little. Sometimes I have some jobs due, I always keep them for the next day. And sadly most of the time, I cannot get the job done in time. But still I do. After having lots of dead deadlines, I still keep them for next day. I keep pushing the of tension. And when there is only ten minutes left, I scream, leave everything behind, make two or three mistakes, and ultimately, fail to complete the job. I be lazy all the time. I laugh when the deadline is over, and tell myself, next time, it won’t be like this. In my seventeen years of life, I have always been like this.
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Comet Holmes is here, since October. Suddenly I discovered it near Perseus. I mean, I did not know it was there. The Perseus constellation have lots of stars in it. I plugged the binocular to my eyes, and started to observe them. Suddenly a white patch caught my attention. I showed it to my father, he told, that that might be Perseus. The joy of discovery surged in me as discovered it; I didn’t know it was there.
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“That’s not C Hash, that is called C Sharp, I looked up in Wikipedia”, I said to my cousin. “Well, you know C Hash, I mean C sharp?”. “Ya, a bit”, I replied, “but I know C++ well” “Hmm, that’s great”, said my cousin. “What other languages you do know?” I answered, “Java, VB, etc. etc., but none is complete, I know a bit of every language” He exclaimed, “That’s great!” I felt proud at that exclamation, at last someone appreciated my knowledge of programming languages. I was happy because I learned all those languages all by myself.
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There was a time when I used to be scared to death by ghosts. My nephews aggravated my for that. They made me sick, It seemed that they the like the way I get afraid. Time flies by, always making us more mature than before. Nowadays, I don’t get afraid very easily, I try to keep calm all the time. Few days ago, I got a notebook, a dairy my 12th year. I used to keep diary, I still do. I surfed the pages, one page caught my attention. I recalled the night, the sleepless night. I watched the movie ‘ALIEN’ that day, and I could not sleep in fear. I wrote that incident in my diary. It makes me laugh when I recall myself few years ago.
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My tutor once said, “My father was a great student, I have his politeness, but not his brilliance in studies” He jerks my greatest pain out of myself, he exposes my, he makes me ashamed of myself. Thanks to him, I have learned to tackle conditions, deadlines, threats, humiliations, aggravations. I have learned, my ego won’t help me, it can only will take me down. My tears doesn’t come out easily nowadays.
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The paragraphs are pretty much different, having no continuity in them. I wrote shards of my life, those I could recollect at the time of writing. I cannot make out the beauty out of poems, but I can see the beauty in algebra. At some nights, when I am evaluating myself, I really get happy. There are many, who doesn’t make mistakes much, who doesn’t fail often. I made a lot of mistakes, I had lot of failures; I am learned, skilled, experienced.

Dismantled failures

When you fail every time you try, what do you do? You cry, you jump onto the bed, bury your face in the pillow, and make it wet with you tears. You promise your self that the next time, you will not fail; You assure yourself again and again, that you will not lose again to the same thing. And when the ‘next time’ comes, you fail again, between the first and the second try, months or years have passed. Again, you come to the bed, and talk with the air, express your failure, and again make a promise, to make the next try successful.

What if you really don’t want to fail, but a few distractions are making you fail. You come to you bed, crying, you express your feelings to the air. The fan hanging from ceiling makes the air answer to your thoughts. You cry, your mouth gets full of whispering sounds of promise, your eyes burst out with tears. You hate the game you play much, you hate the girl you love; Whose thoughts occupy your mind all day long. You hate the guy who comes your house for a chat, for he wastes much of your time. You hate the spoiled friend, whom you helped much during the hard times, wasting your time. But still your failure doesn’t transform into success. You clench you teeth for another try, you make everything around you forget about you. You start to hate yourself. You kick the fluffy teddy bear your Mother made for you. You hate the advices they give to you. You ignore the comments others made about you. You make your fist with your hands, hard enough breakthrough steel.

That’s how I feel when I return home with failures. And the sorrow provides fuel for the zeal, the zeal to make a future with which I will be able to forget my past.