Break on through...

we chased our pleasures here / dug our treasures there / but can you still recall / the time we cried
Break on through to other side / Break on through to the other side / Break on through...

It does come through that Morrison was poet and only then a musician.

The thing about being on the other side of 30 is that it puts one's life thus far into rather a harsh perspective, especially for a geek. Before he turned 30, Feynmann had already come up with his Principle of Least Action. Before HE turned 30 Niels Bohr had proposed his model of the atmoic structure. Einstein had already had his annus mirabilis, and would never do anything quite as remarkable for the next 50 years. Alan Turing had cracked the Enigma machine. Warren Buffet was a slow starter. He was 32 before he made his first million. I don't intend to drag the writers and poets in here, because they are even scarier. Keats was dead well before he turned 30. As was Jim Morrison.

And what have I done? Well, nothing really. My life's story reads like a boring script of a boring soap opera (without all the extra-marital affairs).
2003: Got into a new job. Got into a relationship. Had parathas for dinner. Smoked Gold Flake Kings. Drank lots of vodka. Started writing on a new blog. Cheered Real Madrid during the Champions League.
2005: Got into a new job. Got into a new relationship. Had noodles for dinner. Smoked Menthols. Drank lots of rum. Started writing a new blog. Cheered AC Milan during the Champions League.
2007: Got into a new job. Got into a new relationship. Had pasta for dinner. Smoked Dunhill. Drank lots of whisky. Started writing a new blog. Cheered Liverpool during the Champions League.
2009: Got into a new job. Got out of all relationships. Had lasagna for dinner. Smoked Davidoff. Drank lots of single-malted Scotch. Started writing a new blog. Cheered Manchester United during the Champions League.

The only doubts for 2011 are merely questions of what I put into my body while I support a yet-to-be-identified football club.

The point, of course, is that my life is NOT in a rut! My body is just settling into a pattern that has just enough variation to prevent stagnation. My mind on the other hand is racing; against time as it were. For long enough I've sat on my arse - an armchair philosopher - content to reflect and observe without affecting the world. My life expectancy is 10 years and counting. Since I do not believe in the comforting thought of an after-life, and because my life has followed a path that merits eternal damnation, if said after-life does indeed exist; it is indeed a short span of time that exists for me.

I'm writing, again. Not on my blog though. Look out for the book stores in summer 2010. Three books should hit the stands in India. A romance; a textbook on physics; and a treatise on living a rational life. The first should be the most inane and the most successful. The last should be the most entertaining and the least successful. The second would be my magnum opus.

If I can get someone to read these, I'll write the three books that actually kick-started the literary fire in my brain. With due apologies to Douglas Noel Adams, the books that make up this philosophical trilogy will be named ...
Where God went wrong
Some more of God's greatest mistakes
Who is this God person anyway?

This post by itself is very obviously a note to a friend. To her, I recommend a Raj Kapoor song that goes: "Chalna jeevan ki kahani, rukna maut ki nishaani..."
I, personally, am with Johnnie Walker on this one.