Everyone always tell you when you're young that time flies by. I'm glad to say I have some amazing, unforgettable experiences in my pockets. The bad times and hard lessons are the change that sinks to the bottom. They're there but they don't weigh me down. I've spent a lot of the past two years like feeling like I'm being dragged down a hall, scratching on the walls with every ounce of strength to just stop if only for a second. This morning I woke up at 23 years and 338 days old and realized I'm just beginning. Don't count your years, fill them and stay open.
John,
I love your new record. Yourself, Steve and Pino have done another great job. Like Continuum, this heartbreak handbook couldn't come at a better time for me. I promise to live your advice of staying human, staying hurtable and staying open. Thank you for being the coolest musical act of my generation.
Best,
Sean
Three Questions - by Leo Tolstoy
(From: here)
One day it occurred to a certain emperor that if he only knew the answers to three questions, he would never stray in any matter.
What is the best time to do each thing? Who are the most important people to work with? What is the most important thing to do at all times?
The emperor issued a decree throughout his kingdom announcing that whoever could answer the questions would receive a great reward. Many who read the decree made their way to the palace at once, each person with a different answer.
In reply to the first question, one person advised that the emperor make up a thorough time schedule, consecrating every hour, day, month, and year for certain tasks and then follow the schedule to the letter. Only then could he hope to do every task at the right time.
Another person replied that it was impossible to plan in advance and that the emperor should put all vain amusements aside and remain attentive to everything in order to know what to do at what time.
Someone else insisted that, by himself, the emperor could never hope to have all the foresight and competence necessary to decide when to do each and every task and what he really needed was to set up a Council of the Wise and then to act according to their advice.
Someone else said that certain matters required immediate decision and could not wait for consultation, but if he wanted to know in advance what was going to happen he should consult magicians and soothsayers.
The responses to the second question also lacked accord.
One person said that the emperor needed to place all his trust in administrators, another urged reliance on priests and monks, while others recommended physicians. Still others put their faith in warriors.
The third question drew a similar variety of answers. Some said science was the most important pursuit. Others insisted on religion. Yet others claimed the most important thing was military skill.
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The emperor was not pleased with any of the answers, and no reward was given.
After several nights of reflection, the emperor resolved to visit a hermit who lived up on the mountain and was said to be an enlightened man. The emperor wished to find the hermit to ask him the three questions, though he knew the hermit never left the mountains and was known to receive only the poor, refusing to have anything to do with persons of wealth or power. So the emperor disguised himself as a simple peasant and ordered his attendants to wait for him at the foot of the mountain while he climbed the slope alone to seek the hermit.
Reaching the holy man's dwelling place, the emperor found the hermit digging a garden in front of his hut. When the hermit saw the stranger, he nodded his head in greeting and continued to dig. The labor was obviously hard on him. He was an old man, and each time he thrust his spade into the ground to turn the earth, he heaved heavily.
The emperor approached him and said, "I have come here to ask your help with three questions: When is the best time to do each thing? Who are the most important people to work with? What is the most important thing to do at all times?"
The hermit listened attentively but only patted the emperor on the shoulder and continued digging. The emperor said, "You must be tired. Here, let me give you a hand with that." The hermit thanked him, handed the emperor the spade, and then sat down on the ground to rest.
After he had dug two rows, the emperor stopped and turned to the hermit and repeated his three questions. The hermit still did not answer, but instead stood up and pointed to the spade and said, "Why don't you rest now? I can take over again." But the emperor continued to dig. One hour passed, then two. Finally the sun began to set behind the mountain. The emperor put down the spade and said to the hermit, "I came here to ask if you could answer my three questions. But if you can't give me any answer, please let me know so that I can get on may way home."
The hermit lifted his head and asked the emperor, "Do you hear someone running over there?" The emperor turned his head. They both saw a man with a long white beard emerge from the woods. He ran wildly, pressing his hands against a bloody wound in his stomach. The man ran toward the emperor before falling unconscious to the ground, where he lay groaning. Opening the man's clothing, the emperor and hermit saw that the man had received a deep gash. The emperor cleaned the wound thoroughly and then used his own shirt to bandage it, but the blood completely soaked it within minutes. He rinsed the shirt out and bandaged the wound a second time and continued to do so until the flow of blood had stopped.
At last the wounded man regained consciousness and asked for a drink of water. The emperor ran down to the stream and brought back a jug of fresh water. Meanwhile, the sun had disappeared and the night air had begun to turn cold. The hermit gave the emperor a hand in carrying the man into the hut where they laid him down on the hermit's bed. The man closed his eyes and lay quietly. The emperor was worn out from the long day of climbing the mountain and digging the garden. Leaning against the doorway, he fell asleep. When he rose, the sun had already risen over the mountain. For a moment he forgot where he was and what he had come here for. He looked over to the bed and saw the wounded man also looking around him in confusion. When he saw the emperor, he stared at him intently and then said in a faint whisper, "Please forgive me."
"But what have you done that I should forgive you?" the emperor asked.
"You do not know me, your majesty, but I know you. I was your sworn enemy, and I had vowed to take vengeance on you, for during the last war you killed my brother and seized my property. When I learned that you were coming alone to the mountain to meet the hermit, I resolved to surprise you on your way back to kill you. But after waiting a long time there was still no sign of you, and so I left my ambush in order to seek you out. But instead of finding you, I came across your attendants, who recognized me, giving me this wound. Luckily, I escaped and ran here. If I hadn't met you I would surely be dead by now. I had intended to kill you, but instead you saved my life! I am ashamed and grateful beyond words. If I live, I vow to be your servant for the rest of my life, and I will bid my children and grandchildren to do the same. Please grant me your forgiveness."
The emperor was overjoyed to see that he was so easily reconciled with a former enemy. He not only forgave the man but promised to return all the man's property and to send his own physician and servants to wait on the man until he was completely healed. After ordering his attendants to take the man home, the emperor returned to see the hermit. Before returning to the palace the emperor wanted to repeat his three questions one last time. He found the hermit sowing seeds in the earth they had dug the day before.
The hermit stood up and looked at the emperor. "But your questions have already been answered."
"How's that?" the emperor asked, puzzled.
"Yesterday, if you had not taken pity on my age and given me
a hand with digging these beds, you would have been attacked
by that man on your way home. Then you would have deeply regretted
not staying with me. Therefore the most important time was the
time you were digging in the beds, the most important person
was myself, and the most important pursuit was to help me. Later, when
the wounded man ran up here, the most important time was the
time you spent dressing his wound, for if you had not cared
for him he would have died and you would have lost the chance
to be reconciled with him. Likewise, he was the most important
person, and the most important pursuit was taking care of his
wound. Remember that there is only one important time and is
Now. The present moment is the only time over which we have
dominion. The most important person is always the person with
whom you are, who is right before you, for who knows if you
will have dealings with any other person in the future. The
most important pursuit is making that person, the one standing
at you side, happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life."
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Uninspired and growing tired,
why am I always so attracted to trauma?
So here I am, grown up at 23,
will someone tell me what it takes to be happy?
I play in my band and write a lot of songs
about relationships and how mine went wrong.
Maybe I'll meet that special girl along the way,
then she'll break my heart and leave me crying.
When it takes one hour to defeat your soon-to-be-six year old in chess, it means (a) you suck at chess or (b) the kid is good.
Maternal vanity makes me choose (b).
...is here. And how ! It seems only yesterday I was complaining about the delay.
It is never really monsoon in this part of the world unless there has been a cyclone or two, with wind uprooting trees, schools shutting down, our campus lake breaching ..so on and so forth, but the general feeling is already there, thanks to the periodic whoosh of dense precipitation as the weatherman says, and the damp and smelly clothes that won't dry. Right now I don't have a sizable problem, as sitting in the varandah with a book, rosogolla and a comfortable chair, watching the kid dancing in the rain outside (and occasionally joining in) is soulful enough, but once all the clothes in the cupboard turn equally mouldy, and critters and worms start taking shelter in the confines of our nest, the expletives may start pouring with the rain.
That said, I never fail to feel the slight tinge of guilt in looking forward to monsoon from the safe confines of my solid roof when there are thousands on the street, homeless, huddled under jute sacks. As with all righteous guilts, I conveniently push it into the dark recesses of sub-consciousness, and gear up to enjoy the rest of the monsoon.
..until I have dry clothes to wear, that is.
"If you don't finish up your Dosai, no karate class for you".
"If you don't clean up the room, no more books for you".
"If you don't finish up your lunch in school, no more lunch for you"
"If you don't braid your hair, it will fall off".
"If you don't drink up your milk, you are going to end up with osteoporosis like kollu paati".
All of the above within a span of 20 minutes. I am well on my way to becoming a professional blackmailer. Anyone need my services? Charges nominal.
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Soon-to-be-six: "If you tell a lie, God will dance in your brain and you will get irritated"
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Neighbour: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Soon-to-be-six: A big girl.
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Soon-to-be-six: "I don't like boys. They are rash".
Mom ruminating: "I'd like to hear that in ten years. ummm..on second thoughts, I don't think so."
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Soon-to-be-six: They show Tom&Jerry and Mr. Bean on TV during AV period in school. I don't like it. I want to read my book.
Mom ruminating"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS".
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Go forth and fill your libraries with media.
Seriously, thanks to everyone for being so amazing and patient. You are the reason I love Vox.
I can't believe it's been a year since I moved to Miami. Well, a year yesterday. It's not that it hasn't felt like a year, it's just been one crazy amount of emotion in 366 days. I'm endlessly happy to be back home in New Jersey after six months in south Florida. It just wasn't for me. I missed my friends, my beautiful and amazing girlfriend (she's one person), my home, my feeling like I was home. Those six months were tough, insanely tough on me. I definitely experienced palpable growing pains in the last twelve months. Emotional swings, tough, really tough decisions, issues bearing with the past, the future, present, nano-crossroads, accepting wins and losses. A wise man once said it's not the amount of years in your life but the amount of life in your years. I'm stoked (stoked being something I don't feel too often anymore) to say I've lived like that for the first 23 years and 11 months. I have no shortage of dreams and emotions (sometimes the latter is not apparent) but this past year has left me feeling dry inside, searching for anything inspiring, finding fewer reasons to do things because I want to but more often because I don't want to do/suffer the alternative. I never wanted to be that person that's bummed by having to grow up. I've never wanted to be like so many of the adults I was surrounded with as a child, scattered, stressed, graying and fraying at the ends. I never ever ever wanted that. It's fair to say I reached out to role models who barely knew me, or I only knew one side of their lives. And even the people I most admire, I wonder and often doubt my ability to uniquely replicate what they've done. In fact, if I could sum up the past 12 months in just one sentence, which is tough, it'd be that I've never felt less special, less unique or less important. I am young, and I know that, yet I don't feel like I am. I feel absolutely beat up. When you're down is when you really realize how many people lean on you, which sucks because I feel like that is ONE huge thing that I lack. I feel less like the downtown and more of the neglected bridge and I can't put my finger on it. I guess it's because I've had a lot of idealogies turn into actual experiences and haven't been happy of the outcomes. I've moved way too often, made way too many transitions and squeezed myself too tight too often. In a way it's all I know how to be: crazy. I guess the overall tone or still-hidden rationale to this is it's the only way I know how to live. And the thought of the future scares me when I know I shouldn't fear it but shape it. You can only live in so many moments. Dreams, the things that hopefully push us all, can be altered or tarnished so quickly with such little effort. I guess I have a lot of those patches on my sleeve and I'm not sure what's going to take their places. I don't mean to sound so downtrodden, so oppressed, but time is short and something nobody should be so blase about. I'm not so sure that old me would like the older me. I need to take some advice from a younger version of myself and stay stoked, about anything. About something coming. I want to be stoked for the future and for new experiences..
Couldn't get into Halloween. Couldn't fill a room at the Stone Pony. Couldn't miss the rain. I'm glad that weekend is over.
