Hello, we're talking about...

You know that annoying time of day when you're watching A Bit of Fry and Laurie, but you can't get a fiendish medley of the theme from Mind Your Language, bits of Swan Lake, and Never Smile at a Crocodile out of your head? No? Well, I can't say I'm disappointed for you.

And here's the whole of Disney's Peter Pan, just for the heck of it.

 

Cockney and Ballet...

So 'ere I sit, after writin' the chuffin' dickie birds 'temporal' and 'eternal' 'baht a 'undred times in me essay on ode on a grecian urn in me literature Green, and jammin' ter 'Solidarity' from Billy Elliot (and also tryin' ter figure aahhht 'a the bloomin' musical is 'excellent for students and children', after 'earin' the lines "you think yer smart ya cockney shite, ya wanna be suspicious? When ya were on the picket line, we went and fucked yer missus" in the song). Elton john may be a right pretentious thr'penny bit, but 'e Bobby can tickle and bite the Mae West musicals. 
Watch Billy Elliot at the Victoria Palace Theatre in London? Goin' on the Mrs Duckett list, along wif Caine's 'rcade and Burnin' Man fer Bobby. 

Yup, that was Cockney. I'm bored. 
Apparently Cockney rhyming slang was invented so that the coppers wouldn't be able to understand what the criminals were saying, which is why it finally makes sense to me. I mean, who in their right mind would call feet 'plates'? Or heads 'loaves of bread'? But, then again, I don't think anyone who speaks Cockney today is in their right mind. 

Okay wait, was that not good? Rewind, rewind, rewind...Right, let's start over.

In recent weeks, I have suddenly developed and intense fascination for ballet, hence the Billy Elliot stuff. Also, we were discussing Nadsat a while back, and the subject of Cockney rhyming slang came up. QED.

Just wanted to make the update. I need to write more on this blog.
Oh, my earphones went bust again. These ones. Less than a year this time. Wow. So I'm stuck without music-on-the-go. Not that I'll be going places during the exam, but still...

Resolution...

It has just occurred to me that I have been on this earth for nearly two decades. Eighteen years- that's a long time. And although I have done and seen so much, it feels like I've simply wasted what is probably going to be the best period of my life, for until the end of this stage, I have been getting stronger, getting smarter, learning and learning more, being in a constant state of growth- both physical and mental. Live fast, love hard, die young- that has never made sense to me, and although it still doesn't quite resonate, I'm beginning to sympathise with what it stands for much more. It would honestly be much worthier to have a short, but productive, life, than to have a long one full of unfulfilled ambitions and dreams that cannot become reality because we have grown to weak and tired to work at them. To get out while the going's good and to be remembered for generations, or to keep on going well past your prime, like Michael Schumacher, until you disappear into nothingness and insignificance? I must admit, this is a terribly biased view, but one that has seen enough proof to not seem an impossible fate.

Of course, it remains to be seen if I will even live a life of significance, at all- one worth remembering. I had promised myself, long ago, too far back for me to care to remember, that I would leave a mark. When asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, thought the choice of actual profession would constantly chance, I would always reply "famous". No, not famous enough to be bombarded with paparazzi every time I stepped out to buy the groceries, just that right amount of fame for people to have heard my name, and for a few strangers to recognise me when I would be walking my dog, or dropping or picking up my kids from school. The right balance of fame and anonymity that would entitle me to the benefits of a good life without any of the cons of celebrity life.

Times change, of course, and with them, dreams. I am perfectly comfortable with the reality that I may not be famous (in fact, I'm almost thankful). But living a life of worth? Doing the things I want to? That can never change, for anybody. I swore to myself that, as soon as I could, I would leave this place that I've been living in since I was born. I don't have anything against it. I love Bangalore in all its splendour and quirkiness. I am particularly fond of Indian culture, particularly cuisine. I just can't imagine myself living here as an adult, or raising a family here. It just seems too been-there-done-that, barring, of course, places like Auroville. I swore to myself that I would get up and run away from the sedentary lifestyle that I'm living. The only problem is, I swore that I would be independent by the time I was eighteen. My eighteenth birthday has come and past, and it's almost concrete now that I'll be living this life for the next three or four years as well. Every plan that I make seems to be for "after school", and now, "after college". What next? "After I get a good job?" "After I make enough money?" I don't think I'll ever get out that way. I can almost see it: "We'll go to England after we get married, Sir Walten.", "The Amazon? We can't possibly spend the year in that horrid place!". And soon, I'll be just another old man complaining about the traffic, and how much of a workload the kids have at their regular city school.

I CAN'T LET THAT HAPPEN. I will literally have to fight the urge to kill myself.  I have to get out of the goddamn loop. Everyone keeps telling me how dangerous that would be. How, if I did that, there would be absolutely no chance for me to get what I want. I don't resent their opinions, but they are their opinions. There's nothing wrong with what they think, but that doesn't mean I need to think in exactly the same way. "You'll be a dropout! Can you even imagine that?!" they say. Truth is, I can't. But what is wrong about being a dropout? No, I don't want to drop out, I wan't to be well educated. But, in recent years, I have come to realise that that is probably a weakness. The fact that I'd be shunned by most of society, is a fear, and fear isn't healthy. Neither is being a pawn of the whims of society, which, sadly, I am. What's even sadder, is that in the twenty-first century, not being a pawn of society means not being able to really live at all. Woodstock and hippies are long gone. Being independent from society means being worthless.

I could go on for ages, without really reaching any conclusions.
For now, all I can do is hope and pray that one day, I will be able to stand up and say "Fuck it". Until then, I am just going to try and make my life worth living.

I'm off now, to compile a list of all the things I want to do before I'm twenty.