Possibility World (23rd September 2010)

If I were to put together all of my plans and ideas for what I want to do with my life, right from the tiny whims like putting up more posters in my room and organising my music and movie collection to the more intense ambitions like starting a company or making a movie or making a movie about starting a company, I'm certain the hypothetical life I would lead would be entirely too glamourous.
Indeed.

At different moments in my life, I have been consumed with the idea of being a Professional

Stand-up comedian
Spiritual leader
Actor/screenwriter/editor/director
Bass or harmonica or xylophone player or heck, front-man of a band
Tap dancer
Juggler
Stuntman
Rock climber
Base jumper/sky diver
Security guard at an ATM
Truck driver
Horse caretaker
Dog caretaker
Dog photographer
Masseur
Motivational speaker
Enhancing popularity trainer
Policy maker's assistant
Detective
Psychiatrist
World traveller
Social critic
Movie critic
Music critic
Any critic
Googler (basically using any internet search tool to find out or verify virtually anything)
Proofreader
Entrepreneur's go-to guy
Guy who makes names for companies/products/kids/pets
Owner of a great venue to live music and art showcasing/integrating
Movie and music producer
Copywriter
Writer.

Currently this is where the list stands. I think. In my head, at least. And sincerely speaking, I think it's down-up. Which is to suggest that the last few items on the list are what I am immediately (and for the better part of the next few years, intend to be) consumed with.

And if you look closely (if you haven't already)... the capital letters all fit together to form a word.

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OK, I lie. But don't you hate it when people capitalise the first letter in a vertical list like that and don't make it a word? Imagine being a Professional List Maker So That The First Letter Of Each Item Is A Letter In The Word The List Ultimately Spells Out, Guy. I would probably love that.

I think my point is... that I have inadvertently led a very illustrious (and extremely unique) life of possibilities, all along the relatively less interesting 22 years of life reality has asked me to recognise. It's quite inspiring on the one hand... but a little disappointing most of the time.
So much paperwork in the process.

If there were a way to document and actually lead the many lives our imagination could conjure (not in a virtual reality sense) and make a living out of actually living, that would be a delight.

Possibility World.

Oh well. Just a thought. I suppose it isn't a possibility. Maybe the purpose of this was just to list down the different things I want to do before I die.
Besides being a father.

"Everyone thinks Possibility Girl is possibly a genius. Any day now, they continually agree, Possibility Girl will make it big. Become a star. ‘You won’t forget us when you're famous, will you?’ they always say, as Possibility Girl begins yet another amazing project.

The only person, who doesn’t believe in Possibility Girl's possible genius, is Possibility Girl herself. She thinks they're being too kind. She isn’t gifted at all. She’s a fake genius, bluffing her way through life. She is convinced the moment she tries to actually achieve her full potential, she will fail, fall flat on her face, and the people that once admired her from afar, will admire her no more. And so Possibility Girl never actually achieves anything. She just sits on the edge of her possible glory and basks in the adulation of her potential." - Andre Jordan

Sincerely,

Possibility Boy.

In the Land of Women (20th October 2009)

I stumbled on an untitled document in one of my private folders. It gave me a fun glimpse into myself and I suppose it couldn't hurt to turn into a post.

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20^th October 2009

6:50 p.m.

Sitting in a three tier train complete with families and their excited and curious children – and somehow because I’m writing here, I feel like I’m at home. The music does manage to help too.

I watched (500) Days of Summer a few days ago. It’s great, definitely one of those films I’ll watch over and over again solely because it does a super job capturing two people and the course of their relationship. I related very well with Joseph Gordon Levitt’s character… and what usually happens when you draw a strong relation with a character in a movie, you begin to adjust your values and outlook based on the story he creates. I think I took more from the movie than I gave, if that makes any sense to you. I questioned love and careers and laziness and why I am so frustratingly inclined to women who make me crazy. You give me a girl with large eyes and a gorgeous smile she seldom uses and I am putty. It’s because I need very badly to know how to make her smile and better yet, keep that miracle on her face. Girls are special, they truly are. They show me their angry and hostile side, their spiteful and vulnerable side and I will keep coming back for more. I have learnt to love all sorts of women and understand their secrets. And now I don’t know if I want to take this document any further.

Just three steps to forget I ever wrote this:

Click on the red ‘x’ logo on the top left.

Click on ‘No’ for when it prompts me to save the unsaved.

Look out the window.

Dogs of Society (4th August 2010)

I had to kill a dog today. And I didn't know his name.

It's a story filled with apathy and pathos... and even a touch of greed.

I was driving out to do some errands. I passed what I could tell was a body of a dog lying on the side of a road. I paused to feel sad and then I was going to go on with my day. But as I drove closer, I noticed that it was breathing. Heavily.

I pulled to the side and walked over to see that the dog was shivering rigorously, but was probably unconscious.
Almost dead, I thought. Somehow almost wasn't a peaceful way to part ways.

I made a few calls... quite a few of my friends are dog enthusiasts, and generally good people. Today, however, was unfortunate timing.
I had to do this alone.

I tried Blue Cross but the number wouldn't connect. I tried the SPCA but nobody answered. This was discouraging.

I called Dr. Sagar, one of the more reliable vets in the area but he didn't answer either. Vets are usually disappointing. I understand that they lead busy lives... and I suppose they're usually very helpful in any animal situation but I couldn't help but feel disillusioned at this point.

But my emotions didn't matter. This dog did.


Dr. Tulpule's clinic was open the last time Anuj and I saved a dog. I assumed he'd be open this time to kill one.

After signing my name in the visitor register of the society outside which this dog was lying, I got the reluctant security guards to help me put this poor guy in the back seat of my car, over a heap of newspapers I had just organised, thanks to Viraj.

Drove carefully to Tulpule, by myself... thinking about the possibility of actually rescuing this dog, and then wondering where I'd be able to take him and leave him so that he recovers. Thinking ahead is a practical concept... and it usually dissuades us from attempting to help. Even if we want to help, one can't or won't ignore the consequences of getting involved... and it is a very depressing truth.

Thank you Indian Authorities, for doing very little to make us feel safe and comfortable putting money into your mostly incompetent hands.

Tulpule said that this dog had distemper and needed to be put down immediately. Five minutes and a 100 rupee syringe later, his heart had stopped. Right there, in the back seat of my car.

I was instructed to drive down the road, and place the corpse near a big yellow garbage bin, so that the PMC would come and pick it up soon. I parked, and opened the door to start removing the body. It was considerably heavier than before, and now there weren't any reluctant security guards around to help. I asked some passerbys... but I guess this wasn't their idea of a good way to spend their evening.

There I was, standing outside my car at a bridge near a gutter, trying in vain to lift the body of this astonishingly heavy but limp dog. Lifelessness is detrimental to mobility, I concluded.

Finally, a fellow walked by me and said that for a hundred bucks, he'd help. I sighed... but accepted. We disposed of the body.
And then I drove home... errandless.

Stray dogs on the streets are logistically inconvenient. Don't get me wrong... they make for great companions as you're strolling over to the local supermarket etc... but dog-lovers or otherwise, you have to acknowledge this. It's a harsh reality.
Co-existence with dogs doesn't often come up in a neighbourhood's list of priorities.

Some dogs may lead happy lives, but most of them live in fear and don't get food very easily.
They're hit by cars or killed by disease. Those that survive get to play "sticks and stones" with your children.

They live to survive and want not love, but mercy.

I don't know a solution.

What I do know is that this happens too often and ordinary people with good intentions don't ordinarily step out of their way to do something. Heck, neither do I.
I've learnt to rationalise and dismiss. "This is nature... this is analogous to a deer being eaten by a lion."

Today I just happened to be in the mood to help... and happened to have the time to help.
It was a coincidence.

We can't rely on coincidences any longer. There needs to be a central and standardised approach to rehabilitating animals.
Stop buying dogs, we have enough on the streets!
Go visit the pound near the RTO... it'll melt your heart and then turn it to stone.
If you're someone who can help or know someone who would have been perfect for me to have called today, get the word out!
Advertise! Use your blogs and your tweets, your facebooks and your personal contact at the newspaper.

Do people care? Yes. They care. I've seen them care. Just make it easier for them to transform their concern into something tangible. Enable them. Enable me.

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I had to kill a dog today. And I didn't know his name.

1 syringe of euthanasia juice: 100 rupees.
1 willing, albeit industrious man to help me with the corpse: 100 rupees.
Time taken to sign the visitor register: A minute more of suffering for the dog.

The cost of the lesson I learned today: Priceless.

No wait.

The life of this nameless dog.

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There are some things money can't buy. And I'm pretty sure nobody really cares about them.