whats the use??
what is it exactly that i want to do? yes ladies and gentlemen, one of the great unanswerable questions that torment 20-year-olds across the world today....the answer of course is "ummm, i am not sure...maybe management or something, journalism is a definite possibility, or computers or stuff!!" (i should add "in most cases" to avoid controversy)
when i say "want" i mean what i really wish to do for the rest of my life, regardless of the actual probability (or lack of it) of my wish coming true,or the abilities or potential of the dreamer...what i want more than any thing else in this entire world, a life i envisage, i daydream about, not a life that i meticulously plan, not a concrete goal that i latch on to because i think its achievable and then work towards it with herculean determination and perseverence....not that, just what i would like to do...not the next best thing,or the next next best...but the foremost one, the most cherished one, the one secretly and jealously guarded forever, the one whose very existence we vehemently deny in front of friends and lovers and parents for the fear of sounding ridiculous, irrational, stupid, over-ambitious, impractical, and the dream that still lurks in our hearts after 30-years of toil, and reminds us intermittently that in spite of the flat i bought, the new car, my brilliant kids, my monthly pay cheque my life is one colossal failure...a huge farce...
a recent conversation led to this question, and i found myself saying the only thing i want to do, to keep doing for the rest of my life is to read books....just...just that...and i want a lot of money so that i dont have to go into the hassle of earning a livelihood and i can just read books, of all kinds, of all places and ages and people and kingdoms....and attend a couple of brilliant lectures now and then and just listen to really learned people...and learn, about people, about the world, and places and histories and philosophies and customs and languages and societies...bewildered my friend asked "kintu tarpor ki?eto porey ki korbi?"... equally flummoxed i replied "kichhu na..."..he said "taholey kyano?"..."kyano boi porbo?"why would i rather read books than do anything else?that is a question i never really asked myself,maybe because thats the only thing i can do, the only real addiction i can never kick....or maybe just....definitely not because of a specific agenda,not because i want to do something concrete with all that reading.....
my friend said dry intellect which is of no use to anyone is..err well...useless.thats okay. i agree. i dont really aspire to be useful. but i guess i'll just end up like my baba, whose secret dream was to eat countless marie biscuits dipped in endless cups of tea and keep reading books until he died, who became a stupid businessman instead, a reasonable profession and very useful....uselessness is genetic you could say....if you cant make head or tail of this really disjointed piece of shitty prose i dont blame you....
when i say "want" i mean what i really wish to do for the rest of my life, regardless of the actual probability (or lack of it) of my wish coming true,or the abilities or potential of the dreamer...what i want more than any thing else in this entire world, a life i envisage, i daydream about, not a life that i meticulously plan, not a concrete goal that i latch on to because i think its achievable and then work towards it with herculean determination and perseverence....not that, just what i would like to do...not the next best thing,or the next next best...but the foremost one, the most cherished one, the one secretly and jealously guarded forever, the one whose very existence we vehemently deny in front of friends and lovers and parents for the fear of sounding ridiculous, irrational, stupid, over-ambitious, impractical, and the dream that still lurks in our hearts after 30-years of toil, and reminds us intermittently that in spite of the flat i bought, the new car, my brilliant kids, my monthly pay cheque my life is one colossal failure...a huge farce...
a recent conversation led to this question, and i found myself saying the only thing i want to do, to keep doing for the rest of my life is to read books....just...just that...and i want a lot of money so that i dont have to go into the hassle of earning a livelihood and i can just read books, of all kinds, of all places and ages and people and kingdoms....and attend a couple of brilliant lectures now and then and just listen to really learned people...and learn, about people, about the world, and places and histories and philosophies and customs and languages and societies...bewildered my friend asked "kintu tarpor ki?eto porey ki korbi?"... equally flummoxed i replied "kichhu na..."..he said "taholey kyano?"..."kyano boi porbo?"why would i rather read books than do anything else?that is a question i never really asked myself,maybe because thats the only thing i can do, the only real addiction i can never kick....or maybe just....definitely not because of a specific agenda,not because i want to do something concrete with all that reading.....
my friend said dry intellect which is of no use to anyone is..err well...useless.thats okay. i agree. i dont really aspire to be useful. but i guess i'll just end up like my baba, whose secret dream was to eat countless marie biscuits dipped in endless cups of tea and keep reading books until he died, who became a stupid businessman instead, a reasonable profession and very useful....uselessness is genetic you could say....if you cant make head or tail of this really disjointed piece of shitty prose i dont blame you....
posted by mojo at 10:39 PM
2 Comments:
why o why do you always trail off like you don't know what you're talking about...?
because i don't, really, sometimes i feel like i do, then i feel stupid for feeling that way.
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