Reprise

I find it hard to believe that there was a time when I used to write two blog posts almost every day. People had begun to worry about me. I suppose the combination of growing pains and an incredible amount of free time was too much for my fertile mind to take.

I find myself in a similar state now, sans the fertile mind. The mind is, for the moment, draught-ridden, parched land, criss-crossed with furrows of apathy. A blank page. A.. uhm... an empty bin. Hmm, I think I nailed it this time.

Everyone around me seems to be either talking about marriage, or thinking about marriage, or executing marriage. And even creating proof of marriage. I am glad for them. And surprised, because all these people are so young, and the thought of the inexorable, inevitable circle of life disturbs me. Unbidden, a fleeting idea of what the modern-day interpretation of nirvana would be flits around inside my head. And a little confused, about why people want to get married, and also what my thoughts are about it. I do know that I no longer think people have lost their grip on sanity if they talk about it, but it still unsettles me hugely. I think its because there one part of me that says, “Say, why not?” and there’s another, the one that has undoubtedly reigned for a very long time now, that gasps, does a double-take, raises its eyebrows in questioning manner, and flat-palms its face in mock-despair. It is a very real and serious conflict. A very common one too, I know. But to paraphrase Ramgopal 's very wise pronouncement in ‘Phoonk’, “It is only cliched until it happens to you...”. *Grand operatic clang*

Arguments are very serious business. Never make the mistake of not taking a sulking woman seriously. What might have taken five minutes to tide over, could well cost a man anything from an hour to a few days. Women latch on to their most cherished grouses in a relationship like leeches to a particularly juicy calf, and even if they know that they’re probably reading too much into something, or letting past impressions which they’re not very sure about blow something fairly minor up into a volcano, they will still indulge themselves, because an argument for a woman is a matter of principle – it directly reflects her ability to “manage” a relationship, and convincing the other half of the relationship of her viewpoint is a large part of said managerial exercise. In her mind, unless both views are given ample airtime, tossed up a few times and barbecued on the nice, hot grill that is her analytical framework, no matter which one is more suitable for the moment, or more practical, or more sound (she always knows which one is, and is fair enough to admit it when it isn’t hers), the argument becomes a wasted opportunity for learning. Or more accurately, for the man to learn. She argues with the noble purpose of righting past wrongs, of creating a platform for learning and growing in the relationship together, of understanding each other on various larger issues, all in some small way related to the issue that the argument was originally about. She is a connoisseur, an argument about a relationship for her is like rare wine, that one doesn't really enjoy until one spends a respectable stretch of time swirling it round and round, savouring the richness of a worthy purpose.

Do not smile that mocking smile, my friend - these fantastic of the adventures of relationships, gunboats and other manner of destroyers, and the ditties of their helmsmen in their glory and their courage, shall be the uplifting and inspirational force for many generations of seamen to come.

How appallingly sub-investment grade.

Where are those that write about serious and important issues that the world needs to confront and grapple with? Where are the market movers? The harbingers of revolution and change?