Tag: philosophy

training day; denzel; confucius

~ Tanmay ~ Leave a comment

Training Day is a cop movie set in downtown Los Angeles. Ethan Hawke plays a rookie cop- Jake Hoyt who is assigned into Denzel Washington’s unit. Denzel plays Alonzo, a crooked cop working in the narcotics department.

Alonzo believes in maintaining the status quo of a criminal world where cops are dirty and are in on the action. As per his own needs he chooses to arrest or murder anybody. He tells Jake to do the same, to follow his lead and one day become a detective who makes actual change. We can see that Alonzo is trying to manipulate Jake into becoming a dirty cop.

Jake resists and says this is not what he signed on for (of course the blue eyed white guy says that). However he is embroiled in a staged shoot-out and is used as a pawn by Alonzo who is also under pressure from his superiors.

The Master (Confucius) sighed, “Would that I did not have to speak!”
Zigong (a disciple) said, “If the Master did not speak, then how would we little ones receive guidance from you?”
The Master replied, “What does Heaven ever say? Yet the four seasons are put in motion by it, and the myriad creatures receive their life from it. What does Heaven ever say?” – Excerpt from Analects Confucius (Edward Slingerland)

I can see a parallel between what Alonzo tries to tell Jake, to let the status quo be and to observe him and learn. Of course I’m sure Confucius didn’t advocate lawlessness and murder. But if a value system is corrupt and validates what we consider immoral or criminal, then a large part of wisdom and a pattern of virtuous conduct could be adopted in the corrupt society. It’s as if the society won’t believe it’s corrupt and it’s just normal to be looted and killed.

But we don’t live in such a society right?

-Tanmay

buffer; la flame; noise

~ Tanmay ~ Leave a comment

I took the weekend off and reflected upon a lot of things. The weird outcome of the break was the reinforcement and action upon my initial thoughts about taking up reading philosophy. The adage that reading makes you grow and makes you wiser is something I experience after finishing any illuminating book and it is a spiritual wholesomeness that pushes my lips upwards, of course if you’re reading Murakami you might be left extremely bewildered and betrayed (more on that later).

In the humdrum and business of daily life with various people involved who contribute unknowingly to the clamor and the vulgarity of noise in society, it is easy to lose track and resign. It happens too frequently and is discouraging for creative and positive endeavors. Instead we bog down on inconsequential details to impart a facade of meaning over our lives, all the while knowing that it is a facade.

A collection of small goals that adds up to your larger goal is said to be a more effective way of doing almost anything. It seems to work for me as it allows room to breathe amongst the noise.

How do you block out the noise?

-Tanmay

buried alive; logic; reasons

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Music and loneliness have a symbiotic relationship. Music doesn’t cut away the loneliness but it sure numbs the pain that arises out of it. I remember in my second semester at univeristy I had my earphones resting on my ears constantly, no matter where I went. In February 2018 I was introduced to Logic’s Under Pressure by a fellow music enthusiast and music producer. I fell in love with Logic instantly. He is revered by a lot of people for his honest take on anxiety and depression, almost as if an older brother is listening to you and your fears. I remember sitting alone for breakfast eating quickly whilst listening to Buried Alive, the memory is etched so clearly that listening to the song again now brings back images from that time and a thump in my body because of the physiological changes that anxiety brought forth were sometimes more pronounced while listening to relatable music. It was mostly a wrenching of the gut- up and down so strong that it would force my hip up if I was on my bed.

There was a dependence that I fostered on certain types of music that helped channel some of my confusion with life into energy to get up and do shit. I owe a lot to the artists whose music I listened to then. The desperation of loneliness demands prompt attachment to anything constant. People couldn’t be there in the way I needed them to be, so an only child was still the only child at steel tables, with two hundred of his peers ten meters away. It was almost necessary, the way my life unfolded then; it made me impervious.

Everything happens for a reason and the reason is made clear after the happening; almost always.

-Tanmay

self portraiture in hell

~ Tanmay ~ Leave a comment

rough sandpaper

against my cheek,

she hummed her tale of yesteryear’s glory

and I focused on the roughness against my portrait

what if it were to leave a stain?

what if I were to be a branded man?

a marked man

taken to the gallows

for not listening to the glory of a woman

glory of fire, blood and tears in a holy mix-

injected intravenous,

with Stairway to Heaven playing in the background

I never liked that song though

would have rather listened to the cat and monkey screeching at each other

and with her tale unheard still,

she slapped me hard

and I saw stars for a moment

and then she got up and left

and so did the monkey

naturally I named the cat Persephone.

-Tanmay

screaming subconscious

~ Tanmay ~ 2 Comments

Sometimes I don’t understand the origin of the pain that seeps into my poems. The knowledge that there have been terrible experiences is not enough to explain why there is pain still. Why is there hurt hidden beneath, or is it in the air around me?

I attribute it to a subconscious that is still screaming. It is still reeling from the jolts that erupted years ago. The subconscious is screaming because it has no one to talk to- but only me to talk through. Manifesting its active pain into my passive actions. The silence that I prefer hides the screams of the void within.

The pain is too romantic to go away. It’ll cling for as long as it can. It’s a struggle to get it off and whether you like it or not there’s going to be a lot of self correction and learning then unlearning and learning again. But it’s a harder struggle per se, so I resorted to numbing myself, and making myself immune to the world, keeping my pain guarded closely in my arms, feeding its ego and nurturing it further. Till life itself became unsustainable and I was on the brink of losing a lot of what wasn’t mine to lose. I had to take charge of myself through the loneliness and the tough nights and work on my mind.

Taming the mind is a long process requiring practice and discipline, repeated a million times only to reach a point much below any semblance of excellence. Life itself is that process. The way you navigate your life is your process, and that navigation is in your hands only when you’re aware of yourself. Deciphering the meaning of the world and the purpose of existence is nothing but an attempt to understand your own life. The process requires many attributes- such as controlling impulses. I react too quickly to impulses rather than analysing how they might affect my time ahead. Reactions might trigger a fall of a long chain dominos that is nothing but a recipe for disaster. Analysing choices offers insight that will add to better judgment in the future. It sounds easy to say all of this, but the truth is we as human beings falter too much for our own good. Sometimes it’s not under our control either; but if you adopt an attitude of servitude to yourself you might lessen the negatives.

Your mind should work for you.

-Tanmay

waste I

~ Tanmay ~ Leave a comment

colossal waste

everywhere

dirty gritty wet waste

a bud from an expensive cigarette, a can of cheap beer, a rancid half eaten apple

oh such treasures

thrown away

into streets of ignorance with thwarting eyes

until a mountain erupts

showing off beautifully

the carcasses of a million yesterdays,

a million yesterdays of despair and

sadness shoved down to our gut

and then shed and then recycled and then shoved down again

debilitating

destructing…

(To be continued)

-Tanmay

you’re not special; neither am I; sadly

~ Tanmay ~ Leave a comment

On my 5th birthday there was a clear crisp radiant rainbow in the sky. That was one day I felt I was absolutely special and that there were higher forces working for me to make my day. It felt good.

I don’t know when and how I knew from a certain age that there was no such thing as being ‘special’. Mathematics can prove that. There’s too many of us and the probability that there’s many people who are quite alike you takes away the ‘special’ quotient.

It was good for my ego I think, I didn’t have to learn that the hard way. The metric that we choose to measure whether someone is ‘special’ or not should be our own choice else you won’t be special to the only one that matters: YOU!

You may use the same metric for others or you may pick a different one. At the same time you’ll have to understand that others are also judging you through their myriad metrics etc. So you’ll not be special to everyone.

Think.

-Tanmay

hard loud music; well of inspiration; meaning

~ Tanmay ~ Leave a comment

Imagine being a little tired or buzzed out but not willing to sleep. Now put in a heavy rock track (Negative Creep- Nirvana), or hard rap (m.A.A.d city- Kendrick Lamar) in the background. This exercise usually puts me in the center of an empty universe, free, unchained to mold the clay of existence into forms, forms that are understood by at least one another. It’s nothing but a hunt for ‘meaning’, you chase it, I chase it, but especially the insane/genius chase it. The subjectivity of meaning results in a uniqueness. This uniqueness is valuable only to the one who birthed it. Some are lucky though, their meaning becomes popular and we share it and talk about it.

A by product however is dissent. That’s where most problems lie. Meaning becomes truth for the one who beholds it. A campaign for truth might spark up when enough believe in it, and the opposing camp comes bearing torches to burn the others’ truth to the ground.

Most stories emanate from this background.

Thoughts?

-Tanmay