Skip to main content

media effects

These days Media effects is my fav subject. and studying it has helped me in atleast one thing. It let me identify things in me that gives the reigns of my life back to me. I have, to an extent, successfully de-sanitized myself. A certain kind of person, me and a certain others, tend to be swayed more with the underlying assumptions of the mediated message. and in a certain way. I tend to see reflections of myself in others, mostly. So when I see this person - who cringes at someone else's slightest touch. who backsup with revulsion at things 'mass'. who increasingly prefers abstracted content, cause emotions laid bare irritate like scratching sound on glass. who is running on the treadmill of choices and can't stop. who is so afraid of oneself's vulnerability that won't let it out for even a moment and goes out of way to hide 'em. who can't decide about oneself's emotions since the invisible other that media constructs has to be consulted but remains mum at primal moments. who constructs unnecessary distances between relations, emotions and within. - i wish for them to be set free.
fucked up life. I atleast know that its a fucked up life. There's much hubris in that statement, but i am learning to not care of my hubris.

[This thought had come in the form of two succint lines to me. and now when i put them to paper, the thought is hardly communicable and so many unnecesary words fill the space up. shit.]


Popular posts from this blog

I am a salmon

I am a salmon. It's been a decade away from my hometown, and yet my dreams refuse to relocate along with me. When sleep hasn't claimed me yet, but neither am I awake, you may find me in Nasik.
My senses fall back into their default states of Nasik when in-between. The space is of my home in Nasik, the sight is of the things around it. I might be hungry and thinking of eating a laddoo and my hands reach out for the steel dabba stacked on an elevated wooden cupboard stuck on the left wall of kitchen. In my mind's eye, I grope for the dabba momentarily as the search yields nothing - poof. the image disintegrates. I am snapped back to reality with a mild jolt. My mind reminds me of the layout in my own kitchen. There is no airborne shelf, there is no steel container, there is no laddoo. It says, go back to sleep. and I do.


I shifted 3.5k km for a less polluted and less dangerous city a year ago.
And all was good. I get to walk and how I love to walk. I am truly happi…

Exercises for a smarter nation

We, the people, are gullible idiots. C'mon, admit it. We have all been bullied into bad deals by powerful charlatans at some point or another. Governments are no different. The current one is getting away with our personal data and going about distributing our public resources and monies to its favourite cronies.This is no exceptional government. This happens all the time, in all the countries - to varying degrees. The varying part is important. I would much rather be in Norway where the leeway for such giveaways against the interest of public is small, compared to Angola and Nigeria where the oil bonanza instead has become oil curse.

One of the important ways for moving towards Norway and away from Nigeria is for the public to become aware and educated about power. Education is a bad word now - what India creates in not educated people, it creates literate minions. By educated, i mean people who can reason, who can think critically, who can see the world from different perspecti…

Withdrawal symptoms

Scroll Scroll Scoll..
Catch yourself slipping away.

Deep  breath. 

Close the browser. silence the mobile and turn it away.

Open an offline-real-paper diary. Stop your thighs from lolling impatiently. Stay still. 

Pick up a pen awkwardly. ahh, the fingers are stiff. It will take a  while for them to get used to holding a pen. Quick finger exercise - open the palm, stretch finger outwards, close into a fist, dig the fingers in. Repeat.
Ok now.. about to pick up the pen again, but eyes dart towards the screen. Tempted to check email.

Shut up. The last consequential email came two months ago. Nothing of consequence is online.

Pick up the pen. Don't fetishize the object now. Get on with it. Put it on paper, write a word and start it already. If I get to a sentence, perhaps I will get into a flow and won't have to look up from the paper at all. 

One sentence later.

Ahh. That was good. I am feeling good about myself. The sentence makes sense. …