[The Pandora Mental Fog]

It’s really late in the night. I think writing late at night should be banned for writers in general. But some people have told me 3 am Tanay is eloquent, so here’s the acid test.


Through this thick haze of mental fog, all I feel like saying is Crappy Diwali! Jesus, guys. Instead of setting fire to tiny explosive sticks, why don’t you go home and get laid instead? It’ll be better for your neighbours. *cough cough ME*

Finally I get to see Metallica live! Couldn’t have dreamed I would, when I was a tot (well, relatively) and thought the Nothing Else Matters solo was tough shit. Haha. I remember loading that solo onto a Guitar Pro track, slowing it down by like 56000% so I could learn it. And an interesting observation here – I distinctly remember thinking this at one point of time when I was, in all the sheer frustration of not being able to nail the solo, in between cursing my guitar, my fingers and the cruel guitar gods hampering me from going onto a stage and brandishing my guitar in awesome, sonic glory. The thought that went a little bit like this: “Man! If I ever manage to play this properly, I’d be the master of guitar! I would be brilliant if I could accomplish *just* this one solo!”


Nuh-uh, little Tanay. You see, a reward mechanism is a delicately complex thing. I remember reading somewhere, “Man, as a species, survives because of misery and dissatisfaction.” The Universe is always tending to collapse into chaos. I had a heated discussion with one of my friends about this. The hypothesis is thus: In an Edenified world, where you had everything you could possibly want, and so did your fellow companions, would the world tend towards happiness, creation, positivity and enlightenment? Or would it only be a matter of time before the seeds of discontent, dissatisfaction, jealousy or dislike creep in? The Pandora box paradox. Much as it amuses me to think of myself as a curious little girl in a skirt, I believe that I am Pandora. So are you, so is the person you’re dating, and so is the creepy lady who watches me through my window as I change my shirt when I come back from work. We all want to look inside the giant ornate box, just because everybody tells us not to. I am the programmer who was always seduced by the ‘goto’ statement, because all my teachers categorically told me never to use it.


The headache is really pounding into my skull now. As dissatisfactory as this blog post is content wise – compare it to the fleeting moment when your girl comes close to you, wearing nothing but her bra, flashes you a teasing smile, puts one finger, ever so slowly, under one of the straps, and slides it off her shoulder, grinning still, like a Cheshire cat, the devil herself, and then, giggling, leaps up off the bed and bounds into the bathroom. In the same way, I’m sure you’ll be able to deal with your literary blue balls for another week.


In the meanwhile, I’m going to go cover up and draw the fucking curtains before this lady stares herself to death.





~ by anarchyforever on October 25, 2011.

One Response to “[The Pandora Mental Fog]”

  1. who so ever told you that 3 am tanay is eloquent, slap that person… i know 3 am tanay – sleepy, cranky, brains working just enough tto RANT, like this post…

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