Rolling them Models

As a kid, I had several role models, ranging from the most suave rock-stars to superheroes from the movies. In fact, a few of them were a creation of my imaginative mind, which always placed me in the shoes of men in capes. It was exciting to dwell in such fantasies and let my grey cells galore gallop away to the most incredible imagery one could possibly form, wherein every outcome of blithe transgressions were not only favourable, but were symbolic of my unique virtues (atleast as to my mind). Though, a seasoned vigilante in my dreams and a struggling student in reality, my thick glasses didn’t do me justice as much as they did to Clark Kent. I remained a mortal nobody with or without glasses.

Through the course of my childhood, as my ambitions changed, the posters on my bedroom walls fell victims. Even the shelves in my room were overwhelmed with different genre of books that placed themselves neatly over the slabs, aggregating to a picture of a clueless mind towards the end of my teens. Now, when many around me partake to the cubical life, I sit here, still clueless, admiring the beauty of the titles , which have now grown comfortable with each other. Each title is a part of me, and somewhere in my mind, it gleams in the deepest corners allowing me to be a generalist in my virtues and exhibit loads of other non-essential qualities.

As every role model has come and gone, I haven’t been  able to emotionally detach myself from all of them. In their most vulnerable times, I find myself weakened. I can’t count to how many times a final’s defeat or a serve that went wrong has brought me down to the floor ,when Roger Federer would be playing. Every time a soldier dies in the line of duty, showing exemplary courage and valor, I get distraught. I find strength from such characters, and to see them vulnerable is like seeing myself vulnerable, and this isn’t a feeling I cherish.

From the schools of Idealism, a contemporary note says  , ”

Believe in all bullshit for truth is none, skepticism is all around you, choose the best one.

Role models bring in their own set of ideals and virtues, and like a book, you need to read them to know them. If you find the right one, stick with them for they can really help you do things you didn’t think you were capable of. If not, then you are most welcome to share my bookshelf.

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A Thought of Fiction

a thought of fiction

I am a player of randomness, and it is my domain. To be beyond it is an idea so appalling, for randomness is not chaos, it’s just an idea of free will. So, swerving into randomness, I had an idea of utter brilliance with a streak of absurdity. What if, the words we speak were not an element of our conscious mind, but that of our subconscious. So to speak, our speech were the manifestation of our free mind and free will, rather than thoughts subjugated to societal hegemony and crass disposition of those around us. Would that make the world a better place to live in or not?

Just to make this clear, the subconscious isn’t just grey matter with only perception but no initiation. The subconscious is the background of the scenery that you paint through the course of your life. So basically the girl in the picture isn’t the most outstanding feature of the painting, it maybe the scenery in itself, hence is said, see the bigger picture in life :p. Nobody would like Julie Andrews dancing to the track of “The Sound of Music” in the backdrop of Gothic metal heads.So, the background does matter and in a way influences the center piece. What we see isn’t what we believe in, it is always what we are told to believe in, is where we vest our trust. Had we actually believed in what we saw, the subconscious and conscious wouldn’t be two tiers of thoughts, but reflections of each other, with one being just a little more refine than the other.

What we are subconsciously is very sublime and innate to the idea of our being. But what we put forth consciously maybe just the way we want to be. In college, we choose to hang around with a set of people, who supposedly are very cool, whereas deep down we want to be amongst those geeks at the book club. We persist in our efforts of making to the football team, something that we suck at, but don’t step into the auditions for the lead to that play we always loved. In such situations, if ever there was a possibility where you could just speak out whatever you wished too, life would certainly become less complicated.

Complexity in life is like the basement of a dungy house and you are the spider in it. Either you roll around weaving a constant thread and walk away from the hell hole or sit cooped up, weaving constant webs around in the same place till you yourself get tangled in them and die a miserable death.

Here is another thought on subconscious mind. Have you seen the movie Lucy or Limitless? If you have, who would you weigh in as the champion of situations, the conscious or the subconscious. Well, subconscious in indeed limitless, but to be fair to consciousness, it does channelize the subconscious thoughts, but not in a way so as to distort them.

Will subconscious eradicate the element of pretentiousness? Well, it just might. But then, it again depends. Those who are habitual liars and pretenders, believe inherently that what they are doing is the best for them. So, the subconscious mind, which is the reflection ,has been indoctrinated into believing just that. The eyes and the ears, see and hear things differently and thus, the subconscious has a different story to tell.

Everything is after all just a story, just an idea. Few grasp onto real life, rest fade into our subconscious and die forever.