interested in everything, commited to nothing
I do dream. I have been dreaming of doing things, all through my life. Often, my dreams disappear like tides on the sand. I forget them – once in a while. When I dream again, they are not the same again. Dreams constantly change. They say: change is the only thing that does not change, well add my dreams too. I do dream now.
Like tides on the sand, my dreams reappear, again and again. Like tides they are different every time.
I was reading this book, The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold, in the train, as I returned from my office. It’s a long journey, back to home. Almost 45 minutes. I average 40 pages per hour. So I would read 60-70 pages a day in the train. So obviously I am reading a lot these days. I don’t read a thing at home – let alone the novels.
I am not going to say anything about The Lovely Bones now, in this post. By the way, if you had known about this novel, probably you would have also known that Peter Jackson’s next project is The Lovely Bones, being starred by Mark Wahlberg and Rachel Weisz. I like Mark Wahlberg in a way, particularly in The Departed. I enjoy the scene in which he irritates De Caprio by questioning. He has got a character.
When I was reading this novel, The Lovely Bones, I came across a line that triggered my thoughts. The girl named Susie Salmon who is the central character in the novel, wishes a career. She dreams of a career – A Wild Life Photographer.
When we were Kids our dreams were entirely different. Our ambitions were high. Our hopes were Ideal. We thought anything is possible. But as age falls over us, we realize our potential. We define reals. We draw lines, circles and rectangles. And we stay with in those structures defined by us from that time onwards. Forever.
Kids are always the same, where ever they are. Indian kids too have different career dreams. Apart from those whole lot induced dreams of becoming Doctors and Engineers, some still dream of becoming Reporter, Photographer, Gardenist, zoo keepers etc.
But as the time flows by, they become software engineers.What ever they study, electricals, electronics, mechanical, civil, whatever, they become software engineers. They get inputs from the endusers for First Name and Last Name and then, they store to the databases.
Of course, they write the program to retrieve those details too.
Every time I sit to write something, I end up asking me, should I write? Is it, that important? Two months back, I brought my wife to kinokuniya book shop in Takashimaya shopping complex, in the Orchard road. I am so very surprised to see all those books in that place. God, where in the world, this many numbers of book came from? Hell a lot of books, you wouldn’t see – I guess – any where else in the world. It took me 3 hours to browse through the fiction section. Actually my company gave me a gift voucher for 120$ – which I could use any where in Takashimaya – as a New Year gift. So I thought of spending it on the books which I was eying for quite sometime now: 20 books you must read before you die.
Me and my wife, browsed through the entire fiction section, and finally after an hour or two, got all those books. And you know what, the cost of the books summed up to 121$. I was so much happy. That I had found all the books I wanted for just 1$ top up. But then it struck me, only then, what if the shop didn’t accept the voucher. It is possible. I told my wife, for which, she gave a confused – rather a bit angered – look and just she wouldn’t understand why I spent this 2 hours, stupidly collecting those books, with out even asking about whether I could use the voucher or not. Nor did I understand.
As I doubted, the lady at the counter confirmed and refused to accept the gift voucher. And she added that, kinokuniya book shops rather have their own voucher. I thought of asking her, do you have your own dollar? I mean your own dollar format? If not, why in the world you have your own vouchers? After all, vouchers are supposed to replace dollars, isn’t it? Dollars are unique, but ironically, vouchers are not. You see, there is a conspiracy here. Well, against me. kinokuniya does not want me to read all those books-you-must-read-before-you-die and in that way stopping me from becoming a literature-lad.
I didn’t buy those books, in the end. My wife, after seeing my disappointed face, insisted me to buy those books, by using cash or card or whatever, which I sternly rejected. I told her, I would buy one book a month. I got out of the shop, as quickly as possible, after throwing a longing look on the basket, which was filled with book, collected by us.
I cannot guess, what the kinokuniya person would think about us, when she sees the basket full of assorted books?
These days I am not at all in touch with news updates or blog updates or even close family updates. But I am not busy, that’s the fact. True that I have joined a new company and a task – its complex, as they say – is assigned to me, but I am not that busy. I was – and am – just reading some documents and gathering information here and there, and penning it down, hoping that it would be of help sometime later. I have some friends here, but they are busy with their own schedules. So it is like I am alone here with no solid task to do. And I am bored.
This central plaza – the place where I am working now – is a shopping complex, right at the exit of the Tiong Bahru station. It wears a shopping complex outfit rather than a corporate grandeur. But One Raffles Quay – my previous work place – is completely different, extravagant in appearance and as lavish as the buildings you see in the Spider Man movie. Sometimes during those over-swelled-tummy afternoons, I stare at one pointed building, clearly visible from my chair, through the thick glass wall, imagining myself as Spider Man, sitting right at the bottom of the very long iron bar pointing towards the sky. I watch the people, now looking like ants when I see from the pointed bar’s base, hurrying towards the La Pousat, a food court, for tea. But now, from this new place, I see nothing. A bright maroon colored cubicle wall stares at me back, with its dark blue wall pins. I stare back, with same intensity.
