A diary of inspiration


All of us have one. Or have had at least one in their entire life time.

A book of inspiration.

A book where we noted down quotations, movie dialogues, things said by friends and teachers, excerpts from books, lyrics and poems.

Though my book started post the birth of Internet, it wasn’t until the maturity of social media in my life that I completely forgot about the existence of this book. I carry it around everywhere I moved and lived. Along with other collectibles.

I used to have a box file of newspaper clippings of the first half page article on the Appointment times supplement of Khaleej Times. It carried career-inspiring articles. I collected it religiously for many years. Another box file of random newspaper clippings. I preserved these for ages. Along with slam books and other things.

Then came Social Media and generally, the internet.

It felt pointless to carrying around information that was easily available online. But skipping through the clippings, it wasn’t just outdated news, it was various things that seemed interesting to my former self at various points of time in my life.

Even what your friends thought about you was on Orkut Testimonials and LinkedIn endorsements. So sometime during my college years I dumped the files.

But the book remained. Post college I realized not only did it show the timeline of  what movies and books I saw / read , what kind of inspiration I sought for , was it ambitious or was it friendship and love, it also showed a timeline of my handwriting constantly changing. (Yikes!)

Some of the ink has faded off now, but after a lot of censoring and reminiscing, I share with you some excerpts from my collection–

 

Dated : 2004. The ink has almost faded. Darn Parker ink.
The very first entry in the book-> When nothing seems to help ….BY Jacob Riis Dated : 2004. The ink has almost faded. Darn Pelikan ink.
Salutation to the Dawn Attributed to Kalidasa
Salutation to the Dawn Attributed to Kalidasa —
Look to this day! For it is life, the very life of life, In its brief course Lie all the verities and realities of your existence:The bliss of growth, The glory of action, The splendor of beauty, For yesterday is but a dream And tomorrow only a vision, But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore, to this day! Such is the salutation of the dawn.

“A Word Of Thanks To these I know a debt past telling: My several muses, harsh and kind; My folks, who stood my sulks and yelling, And (in the long run) did not mind; Dead legislators, whose orations I've filched to mix my own potations; Indeed, all those whose brains I've pressed, Unmerciful, because obsessed; My own dumb soul, which on a pittance Survived to weave this fictive spell; And, gentle reader, you as well, The fountainhead of all remittance. Buy me before good sense insists You'll strain your purse and sprain your wrists.”  ― Vikram Seth
For every ailment under the sun There is a remedy, or there is none; If there be one, try to find it; If there be none, never mind it. — Mother Goose rhyme
The metaphor is .....oh wait, the one before that, someone said it, wonder what made me write it down back in school. :/
The metaphor is …..oh wait, the one before that, someone said it, wonder what made me write it down back in school. :/
“A Word Of Thanks To these I know a debt past telling: My several muses, harsh and kind; My folks, who stood my sulks and yelling, And (in the long run) did not mind; Dead legislators, whose orations I've filched to mix my own potations; Indeed, all those whose brains I've pressed, Unmerciful, because obsessed; My own dumb soul, which on a pittance Survived to weave this fictive spell; And, gentle reader, you as well, The fountainhead of all remittance. Buy me before good sense insists You'll strain your purse and sprain your wrists.”  ― Vikram Seth"
“A Word Of Thanks
To these I know a debt past telling:
My several muses, harsh and kind;
My folks, who stood my sulks and yelling,
And (in the long run) did not mind;
Dead legislators, whose orations
I’ve filched to mix my own potations;
Indeed, all those whose brains I’ve pressed,
Unmerciful, because obsessed;
My own dumb soul, which on a pittance
Survived to weave this fictive spell;
And, gentle reader, you as well,
The fountainhead of all remittance.
Buy me before good sense insists
You’ll strain your purse and sprain your wrists.”
― Vikram Seth”
He worked by day,and toiled by night, He gave up play and some delight, Dry books he read new things to learn And forged ahead success to earn, He plodded on with faith and pluck And when he won men called it Luck.
He worked by day,and toiled by night,
He gave up play and some delight,
Dry books he read new things to learn
And forged ahead success to earn,
He plodded on with faith and pluck
And when he won men called it Luck.
This part begins high school and college. Stuff I began copying down from other people's book of inspiration. And most of all, nicer handwriting. Sighs. Though some parts I have just scribbled while reading on the couch/bed.
This part begins high school and college. Stuff I began copying down from other people’s book of inspiration. And most of all, nicer handwriting. Sighs. Though some parts I have just scribbled while reading on the couch/bed.
I could fill a thousand pages telling you how I felt and still you would not understand.  so now I leave without a sound except my heart shattering as it hits the ground
I could fill a thousand pages
telling you how I felt
and still you would not
understand. so now I leave
without a sound
except my heart shattering
as it hits the ground
No words I write can ever say How much I miss you every day. As time goes by, the loneliness grows; How I miss you, nobody knows! I think of you in silence, I often speak your name, But all I have are memories And photos in a frame. No one knows my sorrow, No one sees me weep, But the love I have for you Is in my heart to keep. I've never stopped loving you I'm sure I never will; Deep inside my heart, You are with me still. Heartaches in this world are many But mine is worse than any. My heart still aches as I whisper low, "I need you and I miss you so."
No words I write can ever say
How much I miss you every day.
As time goes by, the loneliness grows;
How I miss you, nobody knows!
I think of you in silence,
I often speak your name,
But all I have are memories
And photos in a frame.
No one knows my sorrow,
No one sees me weep,
But the love I have for you
Is in my heart to keep.
I’ve never stopped loving you
I’m sure I never will;
Deep inside my heart,
You are with me still.
Heartaches in this world are many
But mine is worse than any.
My heart still aches as I whisper low,
“I need you and I miss you so.”
Kaplan's Critical reasoning section->  Do you like to point out the assumptions in others' arguments? ... Disclaimer: Hacking through the bogus arguments of others and/or demonstrating ... acumen in everyday conversation will NOT make you the most popular person in town
Kaplan’s Critical reasoning section->
Do you like to point out the assumptions in others’ arguments? … Disclaimer: Hacking through the bogus arguments of others and/or demonstrating … acumen in everyday conversation will NOT make you the most popular person in town
The World According to Garp John Irving -- I guess I gave up on the book half way. She did not miss the young college men, who were sulky and disappointed if you wouldn't compromise yourself, and superior and aloof it you would.
The World According to Garp
John Irving — I guess I gave up on the book half way.
She did not miss the young college men, who were sulky and disappointed if you wouldn’t compromise yourself, and superior and aloof it you would.

 

Either you get him or you get over him. Either way its good for you.
Either you get him or you get over him. Either way its good for you.
"I wake up in the morning, to the sound of raindrops. And I wonder where you'd be, and I wonder if it's raining there. Wherever you are, I hope you think of me, when it's raining there." By Tushar Raheja
“I wake up in the morning, to the sound of raindrops.
And I wonder where you’d be, and I wonder if it’s raining there.
Wherever you are, I hope you think of me, when it’s raining there.”
By Tushar Raheja
Ask yourself whether the dream of heaven and greatness should be left waiting for us in our graves-or whether it should be ours here and now and on this earth.”
Ask yourself whether the dream of heaven and greatness should be left waiting for us in our graves-or whether it should be ours here and now and on this earth.”
I loved Himani Dalmia's description about her protagonist in her novel Life is Perfect. A description befitting many of the idealistic urban Indian women of today.  "She is idealistic, opinionated and has a huge intellectual arrogance about her. Her strong views make people think of her as supercilious. And she is socially detached. It makes her interesting."
I loved Himani Dalmia’s description about her protagonist in her novel Life is Perfect. A description befitting many of the idealistic urban Indian women of today.
“She is idealistic, opinionated and has a huge intellectual arrogance about her. Her strong views make people think of her as supercilious. And she is socially detached. It makes her interesting.”
“You're a watchful guy. you know where that comes from?" I shook my head. "It comes from feeling out of place," he said. "Believe me. I know.” ― Mohsin Hamid, The Reluctant Fundamentalist
“You’re a watchful guy. you know where that comes from?” I shook my head. “It comes from feeling out of place,” he said. “Believe me. I know.”
― Mohsin Hamid, The Reluctant Fundamentalist
At times, betrayal of trust hurts me deeply, but nothing leaves lasting scars on my psyche. The only lesson I have learnt is that as soon as you sense the others cooling off, be the one to drop them. Dropping people gives you a sense of triumph; being dropped, one of defeat which leaves the ego wounded. I do not have the gift of friendship. Nor the gift of loving or being loved. Hate is my stronger passion. Mercifully it has never been directed against a community but only against certain individuals. I hate with a passion unworthy of anyone who would like to describe himself as civilized. I try my best to ignore them but they are like an aching tooth which I am periodically compelled to feel with my tongue to assure myself that it still hurts. My hate goes beyond the people I hate. I even drop those who befriend them. My enemy's friends become my enemies. Hate does not always kill the man who hates, as is maintained by the sanctimonious. Unexpressed hate can often be a catharsis.--- Khushwant Singh- Not a nice man to know.
At times, betrayal of trust hurts me deeply, but nothing leaves lasting scars on my psyche. The only lesson I have learnt is that as soon as you sense the others cooling off, be the one to drop them. Dropping people gives you a sense of triumph; being dropped, one of defeat which leaves the ego wounded.
I do not have the gift of friendship. Nor the gift of loving or being loved. Hate is my stronger passion. Mercifully it has never been directed against a community but only against certain individuals. I hate with a passion unworthy of anyone who would like to describe himself as civilized. I try my best to ignore them but they are like an aching tooth which I am periodically compelled to feel with my tongue to assure myself that it still hurts. My hate goes beyond the people I hate. I even drop those who befriend them. My enemy’s friends become my enemies. Hate does not always kill the man who hates, as is maintained by the sanctimonious. Unexpressed hate can often be a catharsis.— Khushwant Singh- Not a nice man to know.

 

A man who showers his love to his wife everyday, is going to have the best wife in the world.
A man who showers his love to his wife everyday, is going to have the best wife in the world.
Daughter No 2 is really very nice. And I am glad to say that she has got large blue eyes and a will of iron, which is all the equipment a lady needs!  As long as she disguises her will and uses her eyes then all will be well.
Daughter No 2 is really very nice. And I am glad to say that she has got large blue eyes and a will of iron, which is all the equipment a lady needs!
As long as she disguises her will and uses her eyes then all will be well.

 

 

 

Did you have a book of inspiration?

Remember to open them once in a while.

You might find – things you’ve scribbled, clippings and dried roses, perhaps?

 

Advertisements

13 thoughts on “A diary of inspiration

  1. I like the one by Tushar about rain. It reminds me of this –

    “And you’ll always love me won’t you?
    Yes
    And the rain won’t make any difference?
    No”

    Hemingway.

  2. You certainly were more devoted than I ever was…I started too many diaries and often only when I was upset….but this is inspiring! It’s I’m not the only one who couldn’t get through Irving’s well acclaimed book.

    1. Hey jenny! We ve lost touch! How are you? I am surprised at myself having been so organized and “dedicated”. Not sure if its a good thing. Overly dedicated to things that are unworthy of dedication makes it pointless to carry its baggage. Like my file of newspaper clippings. 😉 At some stage I decide to chuck them out. Metaphorically and literally. 🙂

      1. I’m good hon, how are you? So good to see a post by you =) it’s a very good thing you have…you sought out inspiration actively and I’m glad you kept your book….. We keep so many useless things like anger, regret, this is something worthy of keeping!

        1. I m good. how are you? Do reconnect with me. Its just bladenomics on everything. Be it twitter or fb or any portal. Or A link to yours!

        1. I read it long back. Felt dark and like an elegy on the downside of extreme behavior/attitude. Now years later and having seen what “dark” really means, I guess I could give the book a retry. But I suppose I have lost the appetite for elaborate literature that feels like it’s going no where.

Leave a comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s