This is like a random thought after what will decidedly follow in the next post. I was feeling extremely low and cry-ey last night. I wanted to desperately shout aloud and tell people what I feel, the bouts of being unloved, unfed on attention and the lack of work to do drives me crazy. So, I was wondering why I feel so pulled and tugged. It is because I leave unfinished dialogues in every place, because I want to return or exist in all those places. Then, I realised that I can appreciate work done only by a few people. The rest, I cannot trust to do it the way I expect. That is why I end up doing it all and feel so tired. Twenty hours of sleep is not enough then. And thus came the title which is a gujarati proverb actually, roughly conveying that unless you yourself do the work, you cannot get the experiential pleasure of it. This is what I kept on thinking the whole time in the rickshaw back home. I love rickshaws. Until an oldie from a wagon-R kept staring and following my rick. Back to work, stare, howl, or just close eyes and ignore... I am too tired to protest.
Same holds true on my contemplations on culture studies and other critical theory on society. I realise that most of them who engage too much end up being miserable because: a) they efface the personal naivete or glint of prejudices/preferences in the race to be politically correct and b) they get nicely trained into problematising everything in life. So, what happens is, happiness becomes an illusion(not that illusion is bad) and sadistic pleasure by digging into others' research papers becomes primary. Prize? Plagiarized paper!!! Hence, after all I may not sacrifice my life to academic conquests and revert to public relations(=psychology)because if you are wanting heaven, you only have to die! :)
Same holds true on my contemplations on culture studies and other critical theory on society. I realise that most of them who engage too much end up being miserable because: a) they efface the personal naivete or glint of prejudices/preferences in the race to be politically correct and b) they get nicely trained into problematising everything in life. So, what happens is, happiness becomes an illusion(not that illusion is bad) and sadistic pleasure by digging into others' research papers becomes primary. Prize? Plagiarized paper!!! Hence, after all I may not sacrifice my life to academic conquests and revert to public relations(=psychology)because if you are wanting heaven, you only have to die! :)
