This is the end

Most writers usually leave a good line of work with a closing quip or something that will create an air of loss or anxiety. My closing this blog has to do with many reasons, most of which are associated around the fact that my lethargy has contributed to lack of attention here and this will be the final post in here. I will be starting a new blog soon with a brand new name and anyone reading this can find that information on Facebook or Orkut if your in my friends list. I have decided to take a brand new approach to my writing and my outlook on Bangalore as it stands and the people that have come into my life along with all my experiences.

I wish everyone a prosperous 2008 and look forward to your patronage on my next blog. This is Melroy Coelho putting the cat out of the house and turning the lights out.

Goodbye

Music listened to while writing this blog - Shadow of the day - Linkin Park
Mood while writing this blog - Hopeful

The Way Of The Wrong

"Deep inside me is a thought that is waiting to let itself out and I fear I will be ridiculed and hated for being myself but I must do it to keep the very little there is of me alive" - Me on January 1st 2008

Our education rarely fails us; when we go to stores and we are bargaining for items we have just purchased or making the most difficult of choices while picking out what we wish to eat for the day at a restaurant. However, when we have a belief and a way of thinking, our education truly fails us as it is here that our education truly tests us. When our very education is challenged and our belief systems are at the verge of being changed, we start analyzing everything that is given to us. I truly do not believe that anyone or anything should truly be allowed to propagate the changes that we 'feel' are necessary to make us better people in the environments we are placed in. I think that as educated individuals we need to explore every possible scenario before making a personally informed decision on whether or not we choose to believe what is being told or shown to us. Contrary to my own personal beliefs, there are individuals out there who use 'collective' thinking to make these decisions. I can only guess that their existence is necessary to ensure that my existence is possible.

I wished to actually write more on this and bring further light on the topic but I now understand and know much better than I did five hours ago and realize the err of my ways. I have also realized that when a thought is challenged that I should find more easier ways of letting people know that I don't digest everything put to me on a plate and that I actually like straying away for conventional wisdom and rely on my own intuitions, however wrong they may be, before I finally realize that I am either wrong or right. Either way doom is eminent and I have chosen this path for this very reason. No one came up with solutions for a better world by simply listening to the people around them and believing everything they were told. They thought and tried and tested and went back to the drawing board. Don't desert your thought pattern, its the most human thing we really have; yes even more than our emotions.

Music listened to while writing this blog - Two Steps Behind - Def Leppard
Mood while writing this blog - Contemplative

Achtung

As I write this blog, I am consistently plagued by the question of whether or not I should write it. The beginning of a new year usually starts with some kind of resolution. Perhaps I will give up smoking? Work towards world peace? Get a better job? Live a healthier life? But, the answer to all these silly resolutions is no. It was during the Christmas season that I first experienced what I really wanted to experience for the longest time. That is when I made the first resolute to actually work towards it. We all have a self-driven need within ourselves to be heard. Its what makes us popular as well as unpopular. However, its not the art of being heard that I am going to work towards for 2008 but its exact opposite. Yes ladies and gentlemen, its the art of invisibility and non-attention seeking that I am working towards for the new year. Many of the people reading my blog are then going to start asking the obvious questions, why keep writing the blog? Isn't that some sort of attention seeking? You can't just change like that overnight, can you? And, the answer to these questions will only be answered over the course of the year. I think I am tired of taking the light away from others or making others listen to what I have to say. I have realized its better to listen and acknowledge when you know there really is nothing better to offer. Does this make me a better person than an attention-seeker? Certainly not but I want to try it and see where it takes me.

Offer no solutions, preach no self-beliefs, just simply acknowledge what everyone says. Its going to be one of the hardest if not the most complicated changes I will have to implement but I think 365 days of this will teach me something I cannot learn from books or talks with my friends and when its done I will have gained something that I can finally call my own.

Wish Me Luck

Music Listened to While Writing This Post - U2 - Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
Mood - F'ed Up

The Way Of Steel

"I will have died a thousand times and it will still not be enough for me to forget"

-- Based on pure fiction and non-homicidal behavior. Any resemblance to modern day events are your own personal thoughts and being the open minded writer that I am I will leave them as just that. Your thoughts. --

Two Years Ago
-----------
Christmas Eve is a time for families and loved ones. Strange how societal norms are merely just phrases conjured up by some drunk individual who sounded philosophical while drinking eggnog and making out with his partner for the night. These are the thoughts that run through my mind as the Katana in my left hand awaits its usefulness in my goal for the night.

Four Years Ago
-------------
My name is not important. Neither are the names of my wife or her secret lover. I realized all this two years ago when I found out that she had been cheating on me. I still remember the smell of the roses I had picked up from O'Hare, the cab ride home, the sound of gravel crunching beneath my new Hugo Boss shoes and last but not least the sight of her making out with him in my kitchen with the windows open for the world to see. However, the realization that my marriage was in the gutter was something I had felt a year into my marriage. What consumed me that day was far more dangerous and more vicious than the simple pain that a loved one feels when betrayal is thrown in their face. Instead, I watched them with the hope that I would be noticed and the entire episode would unfold into a shouting contest with a few apologies thrown in to make it seem plausible that any remorse was felt. What greeted me however, was them running across my kitchen (yes, my kitchen) and then into the living room and finally upstairs. I looked down at the gravel beneath me and remembered how she had told me that it was less of a burden on me had I hired a professional to do it. A tear rolled down my cheek as I watched my entire marriage unfold before me in the ocean that allowed my cornea to see the outside world. I had returned home early with the intention of surprising her but I guess there were things that even I was not prepared for. I swallowed what was left of my emotions and left my house.

My walk back to my watch retail store, which i owned, seemed more tiring than the time I had taken her on a hiking trip in the Himalayas. It had been her dream ever since she was a child to go on that trip. My physical prowess matched that of a 10 year old but I managed to get a trainer and move my way up the ladder so that she could get the dream she always wanted. It was in the cold air that the Nepalese found like a summer walk in Manhattan that she transformed from my girlfriend to my wife. I sat at my desk and pondered on all the wrongs I must have done to her for me to deserve the punishment I had just been dealt. She was monetarily taken care of by everything I could possibly muster from the bank and my personal savings. She had stopped making love to me because she felt that it was something we needed to chalk out during the week. Yet, I loved her ...

It was in the dark confines of my watch repair cubicle that my mind snapped internally and the rest can only be coined as Focussed Insantiy.

Three Years Ago
---------------
Its been almost a year since I had my visual episode on my front yard. Since then, I have joined a Kubodo arts club and picked Kendo as my desired martial art of choice. I have even graduated to a level that my instructor stated,can only be reached by sheer devotion to my craft. What happened to my wife and her secret lover you ask? Nothing. I simply wiped my tears drank some whiskey and brushed it all off as if I had just watched Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet go at it again and putting the television off ended all my anguish. I have been on a cardio program that now allows me to run for 45 minutes non-stop without breaking a sweat. My wife continually asks me why I keep cleaning the house with the maid but I tell her that I am a man who enjoys the minute intricacies and so I like helping my non-english-speaking maid clean the house, the overpaid bitch. The only thing my wife does not complain about is the large pieces of meat I buy every week and chop into small pieces with the precision of a master chef. Her eyes only light up when she sees me clinically tear a whole animal into pieces so fine and so perfect that the meal cooked after seems like a formality of the process. I have also learned that her secret lover, who she still sees, works as a real estate agent and that he lives alone. How perfect. My work in the watch shop has allowed me the pleasure of meeting many people, one of whom is a clay pot maker. He has even lent me the keys to his garage and the use of his kiln that he uses to blast fire his pots for glazing. I have even started reading my newspaper on the porch with a notepad to study the everyday movements of my neighborhood and all this is neatly fed into a Microsoft Excel sheet that I then use to understand trends.My wife has repeatedly asked me to buy her a car but I have refused on the grounds that I like driving and can easily take time out of my day for her to get her to any destination of her choice. My reading has improved and my understanding of the human anatomy is now almost at par with most average medical practitioners. The only flaw in my entire work this year is my inability to twist my Katana effectively with one hand. Patience will get me to where I need to be.

Two Years Ago
-------------
Its almost time. I look at my Swatch Irony watch and think of the actual irony of a well-renouned watch-maker wearing an average watch. I smile to myself in the night light as I start to make my way up to the bedroom. My wife has developed the interesting habit of being blindfolded as she makes love to her secret-Casanova. I walk into the bedroom and slowly sneak up on him and he starts moaning with her. I want there to be no pain just guilt. I drive my blade into his back and out his front. The edge of the blade strikes my wife as I climb over her mute lover who is now choking on his own blood and push harder into her stomach. With absolute clinical ease and firm resolute I twist the blade in clockwise fashion and similarly do the opposite. She is now choking too but I must not let joy flood my mind, focus is needed. I take out a smaller knife and stab him in the left side of his stomach pulling down to gut him like so many Salmon I have done before. My wife gets the premier treatment when I stab her in neck. Three and a half minutes. I am ahead of schedule. I had the bedroom made with a carpet that I had personally installed for reasons of replacement. I had even asked the person that I bought the carpet from whether I could get some more material for replacement at an earlier date. He happily obliged when I showed him the money; thank you. I begin taking them off the bed and pull the blindfold off my wife's eyes. I bring up the cleaver I have kept in the kitchen and begin dicing them into little pieces. Forty minutes, I have two minutes of breathing time. I remove a garbage bag I had placed in our closet and simply place all the chopped pieces in there. The next part of the plan has to work according to statistics and sheer luck. I open my backdoor and take a survey of the yard, not a soul in sight. I place both the four bags in my car and drive to my friends house to use his kiln. Its amazing how easily bones will burn when the right amount of heat is applied. It takes approximately an hour to get all of it done before I get my vaccuum cleaner and scoop it all up. I open my car window and simply let all the dust out letting my tired face break a smile for the first time in the night. I reach home and replace the carpet along with the bedding and the mattress as well which has a layer of orthopedic material above it to make the blade stop just in time. I then begin to hum 'Jingle Bells' to myself as I begin doing what me and the maid have been practicing for almost two years now; thank you. After everything is done, I chop the matress into little pieces as well and put all the garbage into bags that fill the back of my car. One more trip to my friends place and this all can end.

Christmas Day and after
-----------------------
I wake up at 9:00 AM and call the police stating that my wife never came home the night before and all her cellphone is not reachable. The police start an investigation into the matter only to turn up with no conclusive evidence stating that she was murdered. I begin to cry just like all the victims I had watched over the two years and almost exactly like the videos I had made of myself and watched over and over to make sure my final act went as planned. I state that she cannot be dead and must be missing. I even stay at the police station for four days just to make it all believable, what a waste of time. I spend my New Years at home sitting in the dark and feeling absolutely nothing. Tomorrow starts the rest of my life and the two years that will come with me finally being able to enjoy what I have done.

Two Years Late - Himalayas
--------------------------
The Sherpa I meet tells me that I am going to have one of the best trips I have ever had. I have to agree. I open my flask and down the most expensive brandy I could afford to put in it and smile. We trek some distance and he tells me that we need to camp for the night. I simply agree and ask him if he would like a drink. He refuses and says that he will take some later. I step out of my tent and in the cold crisp air of Nepal, I take a swig and start to cry uncontrollably. It feels good to let out tears that should have hit my hand-worked granite floor six years ago.

Music listened to when writing this blog - The sound of crickets
Mood - As normal as can be
Reason for writing this blog - I wanted to end my writing in this blog today and move onto another blog but I figured that its better to stay here and keep the fire burning. It's my work and no one is taking it away from me with words ever again. I want to thank everyone who reads this blog for their comments over the last few months and no I am not crazy or sad I just wanted to write something that resembled my work over the last few months and what it now means to me. Thank you all. Merry Xmas.

I am ...

The New York breeze runs across my face and leaves all the skin it touches cold and prickly. It will be Christmas soon and its starting to show. Stores are decorated, people are walking the streets and families are getting ready for the holiday season. I pickup a newspaper and look at the headlines.

"Fireman saves elderly woman from burning apartment"

Most people look at things like this and admire the courage it takes to run into a burning building and pull out a woman. They feel safe living in a city where the firemen know their roles and their importance to society however small that may be. For the past few weeks I have been losing focus on the things that matter to me the most: love, dedication and my humanity. I was once asked by a friend why I am so lazy and don't show any initiative to mend the things that are broken in my life. I didn't have an answer that I could give at that time. I look at the newspaper again and feel sad for the fireman who had to pull the woman out. As humans we exhibit self-preservation and to run into a burning building is showing lack of that quality. However, if we didn't have fire (god forbid), then that fireman wouldn't have to risk his life and he wouldn't have a job. He doesn't need to run into a building, he has to. It may be for many reasons, his family has always been in the firefighting service, he couldn't get any other job, his parents made him feel inconsequential and now he's looking to gain approval from other people, the list goes on.

I will never have the fame that a picture on the front page of a newspaper gives these individuals. I have never wanted it nor have I craved it because it means that their job is only a means of getting somewhere and not something they have inculcated into the very blood that flows in their veins. No one needs to be a hero, they are just born that way. Seeking rewards should never be one anyone's mind and paying the men and women that do these jobs makes no sense either but in the end we are driven to these acts in some way by money.

I hear police sirens. Someone must be in trouble somewhere, this isn't going to be front page newspaper material, but no one has ever asked to take my picture for who I really am.

I drop the paper back in the stand and start running. When was the last time someone asked Peter Parker for this picture ...

Mood when writing this post - Damned if I know
Music listened to when writing this post - Silence

1861

" God left this place a long time ago " - Leonardo Di Caprio - Blood Diamond

Location: Sao Paolo , Brazil
Time: Sometime in the late afternoon.

"Não ferirá"

I wake up to the sound of the nurse telling me these words as I sit up in a hospital bed in Sao Paolo, Brazil. The nights events are all hazy and mixed with neural ghosts of people dancing and my friends doing shots at the bar. I clearly remember paying for my entry to the club where we started partying at 4PM in the evening but almost everything else is a blur.

A doctor comes and sits down next to me. He's got a stern look on his face and starts talking in Portuguese. I use all that's left of my strength and raise my left hand to stop him from talking. I am guessing his second evaluation of the patient sitting on the bed brings him to the realization that I am not from Brazil. His English speaking skills are about to be tested and he wants to convey his message to me with absolute accuracy.

"Senor, you were bought in last night from a hotel that reported you drowning in their pool"

"Are you sure doctor?"

"Yes, unfortunately I am"

"What was I doing trying to drown myself?"

"No one is entirely sure. But you should thank God that someone found you when they did or we would not be having this conversation right now"

"Do you believe in God?"

"Yes I do Senor and you should get some rest now. I will get the nurse to check the IV and make sure that your comfortable. I will get your reports and come back to talk to you"

"Thank you for everything Doctor"

"Your welcome"

My life has been less than comfortable in the past few years. I have finally taken a vacation and come to Brazil or Brasil as some people like to call it, to enjoy some off time from IBM. I intentionally decided not to take any form of communication with me and have spent three weeks going around the country side enjoying the local culture and picking up as much as I can culturally. The women are gorgeous and highly aggressive; the food is great and would give my roommate a hard time considering its spicy; the alcohol is something I never complain about in any country and last but not least the music.

I came across a group of people who claimed to be from Norway while i was crossing through some jungles on a trip. I have since been traveling with them and have found their company to be very good. My views on the world and the social unrest we have as humans is almost in simpatico with theirs. Its almost strange but they seem to be finishing my sentences. I have always wanted to visit the Scandinavian portion of Europe and with my new friends I though I would have that chance till we had a conversation on the night we came to Sao Paolo.

Natalia - "Where are you from Melroy?"

Georg - "Yeah, where are you from Melroy?"

Me - "I don't really know anymore to be honest"

Natalia - " What makes you say that?"

Me - "Well I am culturally impaired when it comes to being an Indian and I am socially impaired if I had to say I belonged in the Middle East"

Georg - "Thats an interesting point of view. Have you never felt like you belonged somewhere?"

Me - " I think that's what we miss as people. Country, society and everything else we feel the need to belong to is something we have constructed as humans to inculcate a sense of belonging. The real truth of the matter is we don't really need to belong to anything to be the people we are. When was the last time you actively worked for your country and donated your money willingly to its benefit. I know your going to bring up taxes and what your government feels is your obligation to living in its country "

Natalia - "I am not really a Nordic. I am from Russia. So I don't truly believe I am a Norwegian"

Georg - "Yes, she's not a real Norwegian but after living in Norway for so many years, you might as well call her Norwegian"

Me - "Excellent point Georg. So now I have a question. If I may"

Georg - "Certainly"

Me - "If I haven't lived in India all my life and spent most of it in Middle East does that make me belong more to the Middle East or to India?"

Natalia - "I always consider myself Russian although I have lived in Norway for most of my life"

Me - "When was the last time you spoke Russian with someone for a good part of your life?"

Natalia - "I can't really recall that I have ever done so"

Me - "Have you ever pro-actively spent time wondering about the problems your country has and how you are going to solve them?"

Georg - "And then you have to ask yourself this question, do you really need to pay attention to all your country's problems to be a part of it?"

Me - "Where is the sense of belonging if you never spend time with the entity you are trying to desperately to belong to?"

Natalia - "So your saying I am not really Russian? Am I more Norwegian?"

Me - "That's debatable. Do you feel your less of a Russian for spending more time in Norway? Or do you feel more Norwegian for not spending more time in Russia?"

Natalia - "Aren't they one in the same?"

Georg - "I think Mel's point is that we don't really belong anywhere, physically"

Mel - "Good observation Georg. We are all just trying to fit in and I guess we feel more comfortable attaching ourselves to entities made by people who think that being patriotic somehow brings more meaning to their existence and their uniqueness is solely based on where they are from and what they speak. Their culture has diluted their very existence and its more convenient for them to say they belong somewhere rather than accept the sad truth that they just want to belong somewhere and their lives mean nothing more."

Natalia - "What about family? Don't you think you feel a sense of belonging there?"

Me - "I was born in 1981. I love my family but to say that I belong to my family is not how it should be accurately described."

Georg - "How would you describe it then?"

Me - "As silly as it may sound, I call it love."

Natalia - "Haha. Do you want another drink?"

Me - "Yes, please. Georg can we interest you in another"

Georg - "Certainly"

Natalia - "So what made you think about all this?"

Me - "The fact that I've come to Brazil to call it quits on a great run at my life"

Natalia - "Your going to end your life in Brazil? Any particular reason why?"

Me - "I guess it was just potluck that I ended up here"

Georg - "Will you let us know before you do so?"

Me - "I think you'll just know"

Natalia - "Is it tonight?"

Me - "That would be telling my friend. It's been a pleasure traveling with you'll. I am going to miss you guys when I am gone"

Georg - "Then lets not waste anymore time with this useless banter. Lets drink and party to the sense of belonging and the end of your life"

Me - "Yes, lets"

It was a few hours later that I found myself sitting at the edge of the pool in the early hours of the morning looking into the water. They say that drowning is one of the most painful ways to die but I feel that its probably the most fitting for people that have lost their passion for living. The sense of helplessness and the inability to do anything while you feel the water suffocate you is a clear reminder that you might still want to give life another chance. I pop the pill of cyanide and jump in.

The doctor has come back.

"Senor, we have to call the police and keep you here under observation for a few days. You tried to ingest cyanide and drown yourself. Is there someone you would like us to call?"

"Yes, God"

"Senor, I do not think this is a joking matter. I am going to call the police and I hope you will co-operate with us in this matter"

"I certainly will"

As I lay in my bed, I notice the nurse who has been standing around through the entire conversation and my recuperation during the night. She has dark hair and an almost perfect body. I wonder why she is in the health profession and want to ask her why but my only goal right now is to find a way to die. I turn towards her and start talking.

"Excuse me"

"Yes, Senor"

"I was wondering, how much money do you make being a nurse?"

"Not much, Senor"

"Would you like to be rich?"

"I do not actually know"

"Well if you want to just let me know, I can give you my life savings but I require a favor on your part"

"And what would that be?"

"I would like you to kill me by putting something in my IV"

She stops and looks at me with a stare that can only be one of contemplation and shock mixed generously.

"Can I ask why you want to die?"

"Certainly"

"What is the reason?"

"I came to Brazil to enjoy myself and finally take a vacation. I have seen a country that has shown me so much I will never truly be grateful. I do not want to be Brazilian nor do I feel a sense of belonging here. But I figure this is just as good a place to die as any"

"Why is that?"

"No one knows my name or my past life and I finally feel a sense of belonging"

 

Music listened to while writing this post - Linkin Park - Somewhere I Belong
Mood - Elated

The Different

When I was much younger than I am now, I used to carry around the impression that everyone around me was going to be as efficient as me when it came to work and my love for life (I was only 14). As I grew older I started realizing that people are who they are for their innate character flaws and a sense of existence that embodies their character and social traits, so I have let them be and exist the way they want to for their own bad or good.

Unfortunately for me, I realized this a little too early and have practiced it in my daily life. I would like to write more but I sincerely feel that this is enough.

Music Listened to while writing this blog post -AC/DC - Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution
Mood -Drained

Run ...

Running comes naturally to human beings; you see a tidal wave coming at your from the shoreline and you run. Why do you run? Self preservation is the only thought that truly comes to mind. But sometimes, in those rare occurrences, you actually just stand there and watch the wave and embrace the fact that its all going to end and no matter how fast or high you run, its never going to be enough to truly escape.

What makes people stand and face the music? Is it guilt? Is it acceptance? Is it the will to no longer succumb to what nature or god has to offer? Is it lack of worthy existence? That is something that has truly evaded me for the past 26 years of my life. I wish I had answers for some of the stupid decisions I have made in my life but I really don't. Sometimes its just better to face the music and do the dance, sure you'll lose a bit of that personal essence that makes you tick but its probably better for the overall learning experience. I would like to clarify that facing the music has nothing to do with giving up whats near and dear to your heart but actually taking the learning experiences for what they are ... learning experiences.

By this point my brain and hand are probably off in their own worlds typing and thinking with absolute monkey-filled symmetry but then again when have I ever done anything ingenious to truly call my own?

Music while writing this post - IGA Floor - Vol 1 - Sounds of a sinking ship
Mood - Totally rattled