Week 12- Obsession
#1
-Swanand Bhave
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
#2
My eyes could feel the pain… the pinch of breaking away… of going far.
My eyes knew that I won't be with him any longer,
And yet they were obsessed,
For they still wanted to see him talking,
They still wanted to watch him naked,
To silently feel his rhythm,
To innocently grasp his every act.
My words knew that they won't be able to entwine with him again,
and still... They wished... They longed.
They were obsessed to surrender unto him,
To play with his words,
To make them their mate.
My heart knew that it wouldn't beat again with him… and still they wanted to fly.
My life revolved around him.
Flowing, growing, surrendering itself.
I knew I had to let him go,
One day.
One day,
The story would end.
But my longing,
My obsession would keep flowing,
For that's the only way which keeps me alive.
My longing,
My obsession.
-Ajay Maherchandani
SY, B.L.S/L.L.B, V.E.S. College of Law
#3 The Pursuit of Happiness
Mrs. Hannigan had difficulty opening the wooden door that had gotten moist. “Damn wooden house!” She complained. “HARRY!! The doors stuck again!! Why the hell can’t you fix it”? Mr. Hannigan, a middle aged man of medium height, came in, half squinting at the door. He wore a white vest and burgundy spectacles. With a little bit of force, finally the door opened and an annoyed Laura quickly changed her expression as she saw a petite woman with a pasty complexion, brunette hair falling in her eyes and a baggage which looked enormous when she held with her tiny hands.
“Hello, my name is Emma; I've been told this is a guesthouse. I plan to...” Laura immediately intervened “Oh sure you can stay here! We haven’t had many guests here for a while, and we could definitely use some money”. Harry helped Emma carry her bag and took her to the guest room. She was introduced to the family, Mr. and Mrs. Hannigan and their two kids: 13 year old Josh and 9 year old Cecelia. To Laura’s pleasant surprise, Emma insisted on helping her cook. And the two women started gabbing.
Emma was a 23 year old woman who worked in a pharmacy in the city area; she had come for trekking and roaming around, as she regularly did, every three months to blow off some steam. She was the reserved shy, yet the polite kind with a husky voice and a weird tone which didn't match her outward appearance. Her eyes were deep and intense, and it was difficult for Mrs. Hannigan to believe that such a petite woman would ever go for trekking.
As they began serving dinner, Emma blankly stared at the children fighting and pulling each other’s hair, yet laughing around, “Do you have any love interest? Children can be a handful you know. Be careful for what you desire” Laura blurted .Emma flushed. Harry frowned “Now now, don't make the kid uncomfortable.” What Harry didn't know that the next thought in Emma's mind effectively ruined the Hannigan family? “This family is perfect.”
As everyone was done with the dinner, Emma refused the delicious ice cream dessert as she was lactose intolerant. Josh's throat choked up a little and he went to the wash-room as he needed to throw up. When he came back, he saw that his whole family was almost still and saw tears in his mother’s moist eyes. Worried, he tried to shake his paralysed parents, he was completely alarmed. “Little Cecilia looks like a doll doesn't she? I used some medicines from the pharmacy to make her still and so doll-like” Emma stepped into the room with a tripod, a camera and a gun.
Josh becomes completely pale and started crying. Emma, unlike her meek attitude, looked at him with a steady stare, and calmly told him to stand and get ready for a family photo. The whole family was positioned sitting, while Josh was made to stand, and Emma stood behind him with the gun. As the tripod was set, two flashes occurred, one from the camera, the other from the gun. Emma screamed as she was shot in her leg by josh as he tried to pull away the gun from her. Josh randomly shot a round of bullets but Emma immediately grabbed him tight, her arms although small was firm and she immediately hit josh with the gun and then shot him dead. Harry and Laura could do nothing but see their son die in front of their own eyes. Emma started crying in agony, she remembered her abusive father when she was a child, how he used to beat her mother up, how she pretended not to hear or see. All she wanted was a happy family. And she could see that in a family portrait, a family that looked pretty happy, content and peaceful all captured in a frame. And every three months she got that. A new family. A new portrait. Fulfilling her obsession.
Emma was about to shoot Harry when she realized her bullets were over. In a panicky situation, and seeing the red blood streaming from her legs, she wanted to get out as soon as possible. She ran to the kitchen and poured kerosene all around the family. As she lit fire to the wooden house, she took her bag and saw a final glimpse of the family. The fire was raging, and everything was hazy and foggy, she immediately needed to get out of the house. As she tried opening the door, she realized that it was STUCK! She pushed and pulled in vain. The fire eventually caught up to her dress as she screamed in terror. Then suddenly, she became calm. She realized that this is what she wanted, to die happily, with a happy family. Her sorrows burned along with the fire and she died happily putting an end to her obsession and her pursuit of happiness.
-Vignesh VK
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
# 6
I’m not sure exactly when or how it happened, but at some point in my youth I began to think I was a guy trapped in the body of a drummer in a heavy-metal band.
I’m a metal head. I can’t really tell you how it happened. I didn’t grow up in the ’80s, being fed a solid diet of Iron Maiden or Slayer. It was at the time Iron Maiden toured India in 2007. I was not particularly annoyed as a 12-year-old but I recognized the force of those electric guitars, persistently pounding drums, and growling vocals. I knew that heavy metal was power, and power was overwhelming.
Over the next few years, I embraced my heavy metal fortune. I wasn’t embarrassed of my love for metal. I just couldn’t explain it to most people. Heavy metal has always been and will always be the stepchild of rock, much hated and usually misunderstood. Respectable rock fans dismiss it as unsophisticated and silly; conservatives denounce it as “Satan’s music.” For a lot of folks, it’s just a gang of fanatical guys screaming, which is just as terrible.
But in the 2007s, very few kids in my neighborhood listened to metal. All I knew about was Iron Maiden and AC/DC, those mainstays of heavy metal and hard rock. I never grew out of the Maiden or AC/DC. Nobody can. Internet maneuvered me to Slayer, Dark Tranquillity, and System of a Down.
I used to bury my metal love, not wanting to seem like a freak to my friends or my family, sneaking songs of Sodom and Slayer in between A.R. Rahman and Sonu Nigam on my Philips GoGear 2GB mp3 player. After all, conformist understanding holds that “normal” people do not listen to metal. Like a Tendulkar-less team India, a metal head is something that doesn’t make sense to a lot of people; this is especially true at a time when pop, EDM, House and Trance as genres are on the rise. What could I possibly find charming about heavy metal, considering as how it didn’t reflect my life substantially?
I think that negation was what appealed to me. Heavy metal was drastically dissimilar from the mainstream music everyone grew up with that it allowed me to visualize myself as someone fundamentally different from the geeky, tongue-tied adolescent I was: someone louder, someone meaner, someone who wouldn’t take sh*t from anyone and didn’t give a f*ck about rules. I secretly watched Monsters or Rock, Download, Rock in Rio, etc. when my parents were away.
And so it went for a couple of years, maintaining the twin character of an ordinary school student by day, headbanging metal head by night but I felt pretty lonely. Finding other heavy metal loving kids was no easy task. I mean, where do you go to find friends with a liking for heavy metal? Do you put an advertisment in the newspaper (“Male teenage metal head seeks same for friendship”)?
By the end of 12th grade, I met some kindred spirits. I met my friend when he noticed my iPod playing Metallica. “You listen to Metallica?” he asked, astonished. I was ready for another fight. I had endured year’s worth of mockery as a metal head—but he exclaimed, “So do I!” A friendship was born.
It is cool to find people who speak the same melodious lingo as I do, who could talk about the new Ensiferum video and about the latest action on the cricket field in the same conversation. I feel legal. Even though my mom thinks I am a maniac or I am suffering from the effects of some babyhood brain damage, and friends accuse me of worshipping Satan. I came to appreciate the fact that growing long hair and beard and wearing Slayer t-shirts had the dual ability to puzzle family members and scare the living sh*t out of my friends. I didn’t try to modify people’s minds. My friends and I wore our metal head status like badges of honor. We were all fascinated by music that made a difference and it became a source of pride. It is this sense of revolt, an almost self-imposed estrangement from “normal” culture, that’s a big part of metal’s appeal. Metal has never been particularly trendy but that outsider element adds much to the music’s appeal. Some people get into music that’s not popular, like heavy metal, to make themselves different from their peers.
I can buy that. But there’s something more to it, a sense of friendship and recognition that is unique to metal fans: a devotion that borders on obsession. Metal heads are not casual fans. We learn by heart every word to every song of every album by our favorite bands, we wear tour t-shirts and we see our heroes in concert dozens of times. My friend described it best: “The respect that bands have for the fans, that the fans have for each other, if you love the melody, if you’re sincere about it, you’re in. It’s like a great big family.” Once the lights go down and the bands came onstage, we are all headbanging and moshing and howling the words to the songs. The music takes over, and we can all share that common bond of loving the music, if only for a few hours.
By the time I entered engineering, I’d started to establish my identity and beliefs with my love for metal. Metal empowers me. When I listen to Dream Theater or DragonForce, I am not an “arrogant maniac”, I am someone who has a place to belong at all times. Bands like Iced Earth and Iron Maiden took things a footstep further by having a meaning to their head banging. Such bands helped me adapt my fan hood to my personal ideals. Having the music as an emotional opening made me feel secure to ultimately discover my myself as a person.
While writing this, I realized just how long it’s been since I first discovered metal. I’m 18 now. Heavy-metal holds the same place in my life that it did when I was 13; I head bang to the music and I go to concerts. I’m deeply engrossed in the fan culture. Now, I have a greater perspective of my own individuality. I see young kids who are fans of Lamb of God, Opeth, etc. and I can understand the link that they feel to these bands. I wonder if they have to defend their musical tastes to their parents or peers, or if they try to hide it.
Whenever, I go for concerts, I realize that there are many still out there, crushing those slim philosophies of what’s defined as “noise” or “Devil’s music.” Some of us use these opportunities to confront conventional music. We get the opportunity to create chaos in people’s head, by messing up their image of who the metal fan is supposed to be. And that’s a triumph in itself. \m/
-Vivek Venkatram
Founder and Publisher, Scintilla Weekly
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
#7 My Horcruxes
#9
Obsession is a powerful device. It can create and it can destroy. It was Hitler’s obsession to create war; it was Gandhi’s obsession to create peace. One cannot describe an obsession without considering the source and origin of the emotion.
Obsession originates in the human mind and gradually encapsulates the soul. Though ‘passion’ may seem as a more ornamental term to use, there always exists a thin line between the two
to differentiate the two, we need to define ‘passion’ first. Passion is the energy resourced from ‘mind and soul’ that can make you achieve things which may otherwise be beyond reach.
Obsession, on the other hand, can prove to be havoc, if not controlled in time with wilful tact, directed and guided by the mind and soul. It may sometimes make only few things possible. It becomes active at the spur of the moment and reactive in the long run.
Even ‘Love’, if it is out of obsession and not passion, may adversely affect the lives of the concerned. Obsession is temporary and can lead to regret whereas in case of passion, it is a controlled inner thought which will guide us in all possible and impossible situations. Pure passion is sacred; it brings us closer to God, which is always the ultimate victory for man.
“God bless me with the passion to love you and to love all.
Let it burn and guide me on the path of humanity.
And govern my words and deeds, even when I may stumble.
Amen.”
-Krishna Yadav
Walks a mortal,
through the dunes,
And the seas,
Far away from home,
a session of obsession,
brought him here.
Seeking what is gold,
to his eyes,
and considering,
a mirage as life,
blinded by passion, love, lust or greed,
once separated by lines,
like those on his conscience,
now lie there fading,
under a spell,
under a session of obsession.
As he skips rocks,
and as he crosses mountains,
running in anticipation,
of the remotely unknown,
he grins at the thrill,
running through his veins,
as he gets closer,
to that he came searching for,
under his session of obsession.
he can feel himself getting closer,
to what he seeks,
then the cries of his family,
echoing behind him,
making it seem farther,
it seems strange to him,
its been an eternity running towards,
under his session of obsession,
but still wondering why he can't see it,
it should be tangible by now,
his want is growing hungrier,
with every sweat he breaks.
Then he sees it,
a mirage hidden under,
the veil of time,
the promises of which,
had blinded his vision,
from the truth.
His intoxication grows,
with every nearing step.
He laughs with pride,
he bends to touch it,
so near, so blinding.
Where did it go?
He can see it at a distance again,
he is furious, so close,
starts his stride again,
desperate under his spell,
under his session of obsession.
thousands of attempts tried,
hundreds of years spent ,
running behind what amused him ,
feeling tricked by time, all the time,
but he wanted it bad,
his conscience didn't have a trace left,
of those lines any-more,
But he was never satisfied,
He left it all for nothing,
he realized as he sat down tired,
he sobbed as he saw the promising mirage,
smirking at him cunningly,
it was then that he realized,
that he was never kind to his life,
to leave his wife in search of ,
an unknown knife ,
that stabbed him in the back till he bled dry,
he is the man that was never kind to his own,
he is mankind.
but as he saw it again,
his want grew anew ,
like nothing had happened,
madness taking over,
marking the beginning of,
another session of obsession,
blinded by the false glory,
he runs till day ,
trying to catch it,
own it,
oblivious to the crumbling earth,
begging around him,
But he was under a spell,
A session of obsession .
Those intoxicating eyes...
As I sat at the dinner table with some of our friends, some idle chatter and jokes going on, but I was oblivious to it all, my eyes fixed on hers, my expression may be dazed because she was looking at me questioningly. I wondered if she too noticed that the plethora of thoughts that were showing on my face, this moment, exactly same had happened ages back, when she had first seen me...Staring at her across the classroom. Dude, quit staring at her, the professors starting to notice.
But I didn't I couldn't her eyes trapped me in a maze, unending. Intense attraction. That was what I felt it was.
But as I spent more time with her I realized that it was something entirely different. The frustration I felt when she even talked to somebody else, the constant need to be able to look at her, the murderous rage I felt when she laughed at someone’s jokes just to make me jealous certainly wasn't teenage hormones. Love, affection, desire, lust, all melted into a fact that was tremendously disturbing. Obsession. I couldn't stay away from her. Just couldn't. Every moment, every dream, every breath felt meaningless if not attached to her. Why do you love me so much David? I just do, isn't that enough?
Many times she asks me about the first time I saw her during our romantic chats, Darling my memory is weak, I don’t remember it so clearly... I just glanced at you that all and she is satisfied with that answer. But the reality is different even if I don’t accept. I had stared at her for two straight hours. Every strand of her hair on her face, the number of times she smiled, sighed, her perpetual fumbling with her pen, every detail is as clear as day even now.
Twelve years together, seven of them married flashed in front my eyes in a painfully fast haze.
Man, when are you going to ask her out... I love too David... Go on son, marry this pretty lady... Do you take her as your wife... I do.
Suddenly I broke out of this flashback. She was holding my hand. I looked at her. Are you okay David? I nodded. I couldn't help noticing how cute she looked when she was worried about me.
Suddenly a voice sounded. 'I must say David your wife is a wonderful cook, and very beautiful too.'
My fists clenched, she gave me a sharp look. She thought I was just being possessive, but all I wanted to do was rip that guy's tongue out, or beat him to death.
Her friends think I am such a loving and attentive husband. But even if I myself get carried away sometimes with ideas of love and marriage, nothing can change the fact that the only things she was and will be for me is... An obsession.
-Swanand Bhave
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
#2
My eyes could feel the pain… the pinch of breaking away… of going far.
My eyes knew that I won't be with him any longer,
And yet they were obsessed,
For they still wanted to see him talking,
They still wanted to watch him naked,
To silently feel his rhythm,
To innocently grasp his every act.
My words knew that they won't be able to entwine with him again,
and still... They wished... They longed.
They were obsessed to surrender unto him,
To play with his words,
To make them their mate.
My heart knew that it wouldn't beat again with him… and still they wanted to fly.
My life revolved around him.
Flowing, growing, surrendering itself.
I knew I had to let him go,
One day.
One day,
The story would end.
But my longing,
My obsession would keep flowing,
For that's the only way which keeps me alive.
My longing,
My obsession.
-Ajay Maherchandani
SY, B.L.S/L.L.B, V.E.S. College of Law
#3 The Pursuit of Happiness
Mrs. Hannigan had difficulty opening the wooden door that had gotten moist. “Damn wooden house!” She complained. “HARRY!! The doors stuck again!! Why the hell can’t you fix it”? Mr. Hannigan, a middle aged man of medium height, came in, half squinting at the door. He wore a white vest and burgundy spectacles. With a little bit of force, finally the door opened and an annoyed Laura quickly changed her expression as she saw a petite woman with a pasty complexion, brunette hair falling in her eyes and a baggage which looked enormous when she held with her tiny hands.
“Hello, my name is Emma; I've been told this is a guesthouse. I plan to...” Laura immediately intervened “Oh sure you can stay here! We haven’t had many guests here for a while, and we could definitely use some money”. Harry helped Emma carry her bag and took her to the guest room. She was introduced to the family, Mr. and Mrs. Hannigan and their two kids: 13 year old Josh and 9 year old Cecelia. To Laura’s pleasant surprise, Emma insisted on helping her cook. And the two women started gabbing.
Emma was a 23 year old woman who worked in a pharmacy in the city area; she had come for trekking and roaming around, as she regularly did, every three months to blow off some steam. She was the reserved shy, yet the polite kind with a husky voice and a weird tone which didn't match her outward appearance. Her eyes were deep and intense, and it was difficult for Mrs. Hannigan to believe that such a petite woman would ever go for trekking.
As they began serving dinner, Emma blankly stared at the children fighting and pulling each other’s hair, yet laughing around, “Do you have any love interest? Children can be a handful you know. Be careful for what you desire” Laura blurted .Emma flushed. Harry frowned “Now now, don't make the kid uncomfortable.” What Harry didn't know that the next thought in Emma's mind effectively ruined the Hannigan family? “This family is perfect.”
As everyone was done with the dinner, Emma refused the delicious ice cream dessert as she was lactose intolerant. Josh's throat choked up a little and he went to the wash-room as he needed to throw up. When he came back, he saw that his whole family was almost still and saw tears in his mother’s moist eyes. Worried, he tried to shake his paralysed parents, he was completely alarmed. “Little Cecilia looks like a doll doesn't she? I used some medicines from the pharmacy to make her still and so doll-like” Emma stepped into the room with a tripod, a camera and a gun.
Josh becomes completely pale and started crying. Emma, unlike her meek attitude, looked at him with a steady stare, and calmly told him to stand and get ready for a family photo. The whole family was positioned sitting, while Josh was made to stand, and Emma stood behind him with the gun. As the tripod was set, two flashes occurred, one from the camera, the other from the gun. Emma screamed as she was shot in her leg by josh as he tried to pull away the gun from her. Josh randomly shot a round of bullets but Emma immediately grabbed him tight, her arms although small was firm and she immediately hit josh with the gun and then shot him dead. Harry and Laura could do nothing but see their son die in front of their own eyes. Emma started crying in agony, she remembered her abusive father when she was a child, how he used to beat her mother up, how she pretended not to hear or see. All she wanted was a happy family. And she could see that in a family portrait, a family that looked pretty happy, content and peaceful all captured in a frame. And every three months she got that. A new family. A new portrait. Fulfilling her obsession.
Emma was about to shoot Harry when she realized her bullets were over. In a panicky situation, and seeing the red blood streaming from her legs, she wanted to get out as soon as possible. She ran to the kitchen and poured kerosene all around the family. As she lit fire to the wooden house, she took her bag and saw a final glimpse of the family. The fire was raging, and everything was hazy and foggy, she immediately needed to get out of the house. As she tried opening the door, she realized that it was STUCK! She pushed and pulled in vain. The fire eventually caught up to her dress as she screamed in terror. Then suddenly, she became calm. She realized that this is what she wanted, to die happily, with a happy family. Her sorrows burned along with the fire and she died happily putting an end to her obsession and her pursuit of happiness.
-Vignesh VK
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
#4
My first visit to a multi-speciality hospital in Mumbai paints a vivid series of memories. I was 10 years old and was very small, but I felt an amazing energy that surrounded me there. Each step I took into the confines of this hospital, I realized that it was a vast new world to be explored.
What caught my immediate attention were the surgeons with their green surgical robes and masks on. They were surrounded by an unmatched aura even though their faces reflected tiredness, probably due to the continues stretches of long operations. I looked up at them out of respect, although they never noticed the protruding eyes of a small little boy.
When I grew up, I always felt an obsessive energy pulled me towards these surgeons. Indeed, their work is noble and unparalleled by any other profession. Isn't it amazing that a person can drill right through the skull into the brain and work on it? Or work on the premises of an alive and beating heart, around the veins and the arteries surrounded by oozing blood? And all of these when the patient is living and breathing, when the heart is beating and pumping several liters of blood!
In the recent past, a neurosurgeon from Southampton, UK attempted to complete a brain tumor removal surgery on a patient whilst he was awake and eyes opened. The novelty of this surgery was that the doctor decided to telecast the surgery live to the world, so that medical students, enthusiasts and others can get a peek into the insides of a brain surgery. Out of curiosity, I ended up watching the complete 2 hour surgery and had a personally remarkable experience. The surgeon explained each and every step that he performed on the microphone during the surgery. I never realized how time flew by and at the end; the surgeon completed a fully successful surgery amidst applause and standing ovation from people all around the world. I was impressed thoroughly by their precision hand-eye control on the minute and extremely small veins in the brain. It was interesting to see how he passed electric currents thorough the brain whilst asking the patient to count numbers so that he can check if there is a speech arrest situation. The surgeon said that he was working in close proximity to the section of the brain that handles speech, so he was ensuring he did not damage the same. I learnt and left in complete awe of the surgery, especially the surgeon.
I once came across Dr. B K Mishra at Hinduja National Hospital in Mumbai. Being a master neurosurgeon and one of the finest in the whole world in Gamma Knife surgery, his humility and modesty impressed me immensely. I learnt a lot by just looking at him. I always feel surgeons work in one of the most complex environments. He has to positively deal with the stress and tension of a patient before he enters into the surgery. At the very same time, he has to scrutinize and plan each and every step that he will perform during the operation. Sometimes, I was told that the cases pose surprisingly unseen problems and it is the childlike enthusiasm of these surgeons that renders a new ray of hope to a terminally ill patient.
Surgeons are blessed by the hand of God, for it is he who can lessen the sufferings of a person bogged down by the anxiety and fear that arises with any physical ailment. Life offers so much for us to learn through some form of obsession, where some people are not just people, but are themselves an institution, of knowledge and humility, a strong and invincible combination.
My first visit to a multi-speciality hospital in Mumbai paints a vivid series of memories. I was 10 years old and was very small, but I felt an amazing energy that surrounded me there. Each step I took into the confines of this hospital, I realized that it was a vast new world to be explored.
What caught my immediate attention were the surgeons with their green surgical robes and masks on. They were surrounded by an unmatched aura even though their faces reflected tiredness, probably due to the continues stretches of long operations. I looked up at them out of respect, although they never noticed the protruding eyes of a small little boy.
When I grew up, I always felt an obsessive energy pulled me towards these surgeons. Indeed, their work is noble and unparalleled by any other profession. Isn't it amazing that a person can drill right through the skull into the brain and work on it? Or work on the premises of an alive and beating heart, around the veins and the arteries surrounded by oozing blood? And all of these when the patient is living and breathing, when the heart is beating and pumping several liters of blood!
In the recent past, a neurosurgeon from Southampton, UK attempted to complete a brain tumor removal surgery on a patient whilst he was awake and eyes opened. The novelty of this surgery was that the doctor decided to telecast the surgery live to the world, so that medical students, enthusiasts and others can get a peek into the insides of a brain surgery. Out of curiosity, I ended up watching the complete 2 hour surgery and had a personally remarkable experience. The surgeon explained each and every step that he performed on the microphone during the surgery. I never realized how time flew by and at the end; the surgeon completed a fully successful surgery amidst applause and standing ovation from people all around the world. I was impressed thoroughly by their precision hand-eye control on the minute and extremely small veins in the brain. It was interesting to see how he passed electric currents thorough the brain whilst asking the patient to count numbers so that he can check if there is a speech arrest situation. The surgeon said that he was working in close proximity to the section of the brain that handles speech, so he was ensuring he did not damage the same. I learnt and left in complete awe of the surgery, especially the surgeon.
I once came across Dr. B K Mishra at Hinduja National Hospital in Mumbai. Being a master neurosurgeon and one of the finest in the whole world in Gamma Knife surgery, his humility and modesty impressed me immensely. I learnt a lot by just looking at him. I always feel surgeons work in one of the most complex environments. He has to positively deal with the stress and tension of a patient before he enters into the surgery. At the very same time, he has to scrutinize and plan each and every step that he will perform during the operation. Sometimes, I was told that the cases pose surprisingly unseen problems and it is the childlike enthusiasm of these surgeons that renders a new ray of hope to a terminally ill patient.
Surgeons are blessed by the hand of God, for it is he who can lessen the sufferings of a person bogged down by the anxiety and fear that arises with any physical ailment. Life offers so much for us to learn through some form of obsession, where some people are not just people, but are themselves an institution, of knowledge and humility, a strong and invincible combination.
-Vishnu Chandrasenan
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
#5
It is quoted very rightly that “Passion is a positive obsession. But obsession is a negative passion”. Generally we tend to amalgamate the two contradicting terms namely, passion and obsession and make them so entangled that we barely try to know the difference. But the contrasting meaning of these two words not only limits itself in the dictionary but clearly reflects on the course of our lives too. Mostly it is in the case of love stories that this feeling of passion slowly diverts itself on the path of obsession. Love is called strongest of all passions for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart and the senses. But in some cases the love story starts with smiles and kisses and ends up in tears. In the case of some heart-broken lovers this trauma takes up a big room in their heart and the passion of love converts into an obsession for the long lost love. But under such situations they never realize that in the shades of grey their passion has eventually turned out to be in its most temperamental uncontrollable forms. When love is totally over-the-line, no-going-back, not-even-dead-would-he-part kind of shit. This kind of situation fosters the fetish of lost love on a person’s mind and makes them so self-absorbed in their sentiments that they are blinded to the feelings of the counterpart. Hence obsession is a strong driving force which envelopes a person and literally asphyxiates all aspects of his life. This feeling of obsession is another slow poison which kills a person every time he observes his past interest go far away. When insecurities are in the air they have a road to this fetish and the feeling of losing our lost love to someone else just adds up to the turmoil in the heart. Trying to lure back the attention of a lost lover by frequently posting sad posts on social networking sites, sending sad messages, stalking and continuously following all their activities are acts which are accredited to prove a person as obsessed. We all do expect a love story like a fairy tale, but we should be strong enough to stand even after the chords of relationship withers and falls apart. The majority of heartbroken people unknowingly step into the quicksand of obsession and get trapped into the cobwebs of the past. When someone leaves you voluntarily and happily, let them go. Because if you fight, it’s not a fight for love, instead a fight for your own obsession. It is good if you are happy together and not when you do possess each other’s happiness. Love is a good feeling to be garnered but once it ends from the other side, you should just know how to stop it. Bear on with the fact that the past is a good place to visit but not a good place to stay. It is always good to believe that if it is meant to be, it will be. Witty is the one who stumbles but quickly moves ahead to leave his obsession far behind before it becomes an addiction. Paulo Coelho quoted very appropriately that,”When there is no turning back, we should concern ourselves only with the best way of going forward”.
-Anonymous
#5
It is quoted very rightly that “Passion is a positive obsession. But obsession is a negative passion”. Generally we tend to amalgamate the two contradicting terms namely, passion and obsession and make them so entangled that we barely try to know the difference. But the contrasting meaning of these two words not only limits itself in the dictionary but clearly reflects on the course of our lives too. Mostly it is in the case of love stories that this feeling of passion slowly diverts itself on the path of obsession. Love is called strongest of all passions for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart and the senses. But in some cases the love story starts with smiles and kisses and ends up in tears. In the case of some heart-broken lovers this trauma takes up a big room in their heart and the passion of love converts into an obsession for the long lost love. But under such situations they never realize that in the shades of grey their passion has eventually turned out to be in its most temperamental uncontrollable forms. When love is totally over-the-line, no-going-back, not-even-dead-would-he-part kind of shit. This kind of situation fosters the fetish of lost love on a person’s mind and makes them so self-absorbed in their sentiments that they are blinded to the feelings of the counterpart. Hence obsession is a strong driving force which envelopes a person and literally asphyxiates all aspects of his life. This feeling of obsession is another slow poison which kills a person every time he observes his past interest go far away. When insecurities are in the air they have a road to this fetish and the feeling of losing our lost love to someone else just adds up to the turmoil in the heart. Trying to lure back the attention of a lost lover by frequently posting sad posts on social networking sites, sending sad messages, stalking and continuously following all their activities are acts which are accredited to prove a person as obsessed. We all do expect a love story like a fairy tale, but we should be strong enough to stand even after the chords of relationship withers and falls apart. The majority of heartbroken people unknowingly step into the quicksand of obsession and get trapped into the cobwebs of the past. When someone leaves you voluntarily and happily, let them go. Because if you fight, it’s not a fight for love, instead a fight for your own obsession. It is good if you are happy together and not when you do possess each other’s happiness. Love is a good feeling to be garnered but once it ends from the other side, you should just know how to stop it. Bear on with the fact that the past is a good place to visit but not a good place to stay. It is always good to believe that if it is meant to be, it will be. Witty is the one who stumbles but quickly moves ahead to leave his obsession far behind before it becomes an addiction. Paulo Coelho quoted very appropriately that,”When there is no turning back, we should concern ourselves only with the best way of going forward”.
-Anonymous
# 6
I’m not sure exactly when or how it happened, but at some point in my youth I began to think I was a guy trapped in the body of a drummer in a heavy-metal band.
I’m a metal head. I can’t really tell you how it happened. I didn’t grow up in the ’80s, being fed a solid diet of Iron Maiden or Slayer. It was at the time Iron Maiden toured India in 2007. I was not particularly annoyed as a 12-year-old but I recognized the force of those electric guitars, persistently pounding drums, and growling vocals. I knew that heavy metal was power, and power was overwhelming.
Over the next few years, I embraced my heavy metal fortune. I wasn’t embarrassed of my love for metal. I just couldn’t explain it to most people. Heavy metal has always been and will always be the stepchild of rock, much hated and usually misunderstood. Respectable rock fans dismiss it as unsophisticated and silly; conservatives denounce it as “Satan’s music.” For a lot of folks, it’s just a gang of fanatical guys screaming, which is just as terrible.
But in the 2007s, very few kids in my neighborhood listened to metal. All I knew about was Iron Maiden and AC/DC, those mainstays of heavy metal and hard rock. I never grew out of the Maiden or AC/DC. Nobody can. Internet maneuvered me to Slayer, Dark Tranquillity, and System of a Down.
I used to bury my metal love, not wanting to seem like a freak to my friends or my family, sneaking songs of Sodom and Slayer in between A.R. Rahman and Sonu Nigam on my Philips GoGear 2GB mp3 player. After all, conformist understanding holds that “normal” people do not listen to metal. Like a Tendulkar-less team India, a metal head is something that doesn’t make sense to a lot of people; this is especially true at a time when pop, EDM, House and Trance as genres are on the rise. What could I possibly find charming about heavy metal, considering as how it didn’t reflect my life substantially?
I think that negation was what appealed to me. Heavy metal was drastically dissimilar from the mainstream music everyone grew up with that it allowed me to visualize myself as someone fundamentally different from the geeky, tongue-tied adolescent I was: someone louder, someone meaner, someone who wouldn’t take sh*t from anyone and didn’t give a f*ck about rules. I secretly watched Monsters or Rock, Download, Rock in Rio, etc. when my parents were away.
And so it went for a couple of years, maintaining the twin character of an ordinary school student by day, headbanging metal head by night but I felt pretty lonely. Finding other heavy metal loving kids was no easy task. I mean, where do you go to find friends with a liking for heavy metal? Do you put an advertisment in the newspaper (“Male teenage metal head seeks same for friendship”)?
By the end of 12th grade, I met some kindred spirits. I met my friend when he noticed my iPod playing Metallica. “You listen to Metallica?” he asked, astonished. I was ready for another fight. I had endured year’s worth of mockery as a metal head—but he exclaimed, “So do I!” A friendship was born.
It is cool to find people who speak the same melodious lingo as I do, who could talk about the new Ensiferum video and about the latest action on the cricket field in the same conversation. I feel legal. Even though my mom thinks I am a maniac or I am suffering from the effects of some babyhood brain damage, and friends accuse me of worshipping Satan. I came to appreciate the fact that growing long hair and beard and wearing Slayer t-shirts had the dual ability to puzzle family members and scare the living sh*t out of my friends. I didn’t try to modify people’s minds. My friends and I wore our metal head status like badges of honor. We were all fascinated by music that made a difference and it became a source of pride. It is this sense of revolt, an almost self-imposed estrangement from “normal” culture, that’s a big part of metal’s appeal. Metal has never been particularly trendy but that outsider element adds much to the music’s appeal. Some people get into music that’s not popular, like heavy metal, to make themselves different from their peers.
I can buy that. But there’s something more to it, a sense of friendship and recognition that is unique to metal fans: a devotion that borders on obsession. Metal heads are not casual fans. We learn by heart every word to every song of every album by our favorite bands, we wear tour t-shirts and we see our heroes in concert dozens of times. My friend described it best: “The respect that bands have for the fans, that the fans have for each other, if you love the melody, if you’re sincere about it, you’re in. It’s like a great big family.” Once the lights go down and the bands came onstage, we are all headbanging and moshing and howling the words to the songs. The music takes over, and we can all share that common bond of loving the music, if only for a few hours.
By the time I entered engineering, I’d started to establish my identity and beliefs with my love for metal. Metal empowers me. When I listen to Dream Theater or DragonForce, I am not an “arrogant maniac”, I am someone who has a place to belong at all times. Bands like Iced Earth and Iron Maiden took things a footstep further by having a meaning to their head banging. Such bands helped me adapt my fan hood to my personal ideals. Having the music as an emotional opening made me feel secure to ultimately discover my myself as a person.
While writing this, I realized just how long it’s been since I first discovered metal. I’m 18 now. Heavy-metal holds the same place in my life that it did when I was 13; I head bang to the music and I go to concerts. I’m deeply engrossed in the fan culture. Now, I have a greater perspective of my own individuality. I see young kids who are fans of Lamb of God, Opeth, etc. and I can understand the link that they feel to these bands. I wonder if they have to defend their musical tastes to their parents or peers, or if they try to hide it.
Whenever, I go for concerts, I realize that there are many still out there, crushing those slim philosophies of what’s defined as “noise” or “Devil’s music.” Some of us use these opportunities to confront conventional music. We get the opportunity to create chaos in people’s head, by messing up their image of who the metal fan is supposed to be. And that’s a triumph in itself. \m/
-Vivek Venkatram
Founder and Publisher, Scintilla Weekly
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
#7 My Horcruxes
We humans always tend to get inclined towards a particular thought process. When this thought process narrows down to something specific, we tend to term it as an obsession.
This obsession is a very personal thing. It’s something not easy to explain. At times even your family members fail to comprehend your reasoning behind your obsession. They start thinking you are some sort of maniac. It’s perhaps because there exists no reasoning behind it. It’s just something our heart finds solace in doing it. Over the years I have too developed a proclivity towards something. I really find it difficult to throw away my old possessions. Whether it is my books or my clothes I don’t feel like throwing them away. This is not all, empty deodorant cans, chocolate wrappers, tattoos and stickers, crayons and my cricket kits; it becomes very hard for me to discard them. I feel like attached to them. I get very disturbed when my mum talks about throwing away the old stuff. I start thinking that I have been with them for so long then how can I just get rid of them, the feelings are so humane. Even when my dad was planning to sell our old car, I was annoyed with the decision. I wanted to keep it so I could drive it later. It’s like a part of my soul gets transmitted into all those stuff, something like what Voldemort had done in the Harry Potter. Now is it because I get obsessed with using the old stuff? Or I have watched the Harry Potter so many times that I have got obsessed with the character of Lord Voldemort? Whatever it is as long as I am aware of my so-called obsession at least I will never lose my soul.
-Aman Sharma
SY, B.Sc, St. Xavier's College, Ahmedabad
#8
What is obsession? Some call it dedication, others call it psychotic. I prefer to think of it as life. Natural and selfish impulses compelling me to do stuff. An impulse that brings out an urge in me. Obsession seems so plain and so easy but as I sat back to think about it, there were so many interpretations, just like Paul Carvel’s interpretation. There was the love obsession I read about while on Wikipedia. There is the obsession that is so closely tied to addiction, because isn't obsession really the preface to addiction? So in order to get an idea I start up Siri on my iPad and ask her to which she replied "the domination of one’s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.” Obsession comes in various forms. Infatuation is one of them. Addiction is another. I feel that Passion is what this is all about. That is what life is all about. If it wasn't I wouldn't be writing this by the dim glow of a computer screen after a strenuous day of internship. Ironically, the two worlds I inhabit come together, as I write, with a small amount of desire to move on and a great deal of passion to continue doing what I do best. So, what's my obsession? Well if I start listing out it may never end. Chocolates and gadgets top the list followed by books, downloading, trying to hack, and a few more. My obsession with chocolate and gadgets dates back to my early days. I was as easily bribed with chocolates as the Mumbai cops are with a ₹100 note today. In a nutshell obsession is what we feel. There's more to it than it meets the eye. So it seems that when we have peeled the onion we are left with a paradox and that obsession is still as much of a mystery as it was in the beginning.
-Chaitanya Ramji
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology.
#8
What is obsession? Some call it dedication, others call it psychotic. I prefer to think of it as life. Natural and selfish impulses compelling me to do stuff. An impulse that brings out an urge in me. Obsession seems so plain and so easy but as I sat back to think about it, there were so many interpretations, just like Paul Carvel’s interpretation. There was the love obsession I read about while on Wikipedia. There is the obsession that is so closely tied to addiction, because isn't obsession really the preface to addiction? So in order to get an idea I start up Siri on my iPad and ask her to which she replied "the domination of one’s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.” Obsession comes in various forms. Infatuation is one of them. Addiction is another. I feel that Passion is what this is all about. That is what life is all about. If it wasn't I wouldn't be writing this by the dim glow of a computer screen after a strenuous day of internship. Ironically, the two worlds I inhabit come together, as I write, with a small amount of desire to move on and a great deal of passion to continue doing what I do best. So, what's my obsession? Well if I start listing out it may never end. Chocolates and gadgets top the list followed by books, downloading, trying to hack, and a few more. My obsession with chocolate and gadgets dates back to my early days. I was as easily bribed with chocolates as the Mumbai cops are with a ₹100 note today. In a nutshell obsession is what we feel. There's more to it than it meets the eye. So it seems that when we have peeled the onion we are left with a paradox and that obsession is still as much of a mystery as it was in the beginning.
-Chaitanya Ramji
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology.
#9
Obsession is a powerful device. It can create and it can destroy. It was Hitler’s obsession to create war; it was Gandhi’s obsession to create peace. One cannot describe an obsession without considering the source and origin of the emotion.
Obsession originates in the human mind and gradually encapsulates the soul. Though ‘passion’ may seem as a more ornamental term to use, there always exists a thin line between the two
to differentiate the two, we need to define ‘passion’ first. Passion is the energy resourced from ‘mind and soul’ that can make you achieve things which may otherwise be beyond reach.
Obsession, on the other hand, can prove to be havoc, if not controlled in time with wilful tact, directed and guided by the mind and soul. It may sometimes make only few things possible. It becomes active at the spur of the moment and reactive in the long run.
Even ‘Love’, if it is out of obsession and not passion, may adversely affect the lives of the concerned. Obsession is temporary and can lead to regret whereas in case of passion, it is a controlled inner thought which will guide us in all possible and impossible situations. Pure passion is sacred; it brings us closer to God, which is always the ultimate victory for man.
“God bless me with the passion to love you and to love all.
Let it burn and guide me on the path of humanity.
And govern my words and deeds, even when I may stumble.
Amen.”
-Krishna Yadav
# A Session of Obsession
Longing for more, Walks a mortal,
through the dunes,
And the seas,
Far away from home,
a session of obsession,
brought him here.
Seeking what is gold,
to his eyes,
and considering,
a mirage as life,
blinded by passion, love, lust or greed,
once separated by lines,
like those on his conscience,
now lie there fading,
under a spell,
under a session of obsession.
As he skips rocks,
and as he crosses mountains,
running in anticipation,
of the remotely unknown,
he grins at the thrill,
running through his veins,
as he gets closer,
to that he came searching for,
under his session of obsession.
he can feel himself getting closer,
to what he seeks,
then the cries of his family,
echoing behind him,
making it seem farther,
it seems strange to him,
its been an eternity running towards,
under his session of obsession,
but still wondering why he can't see it,
it should be tangible by now,
his want is growing hungrier,
with every sweat he breaks.
Then he sees it,
a mirage hidden under,
the veil of time,
the promises of which,
had blinded his vision,
from the truth.
His intoxication grows,
with every nearing step.
He laughs with pride,
he bends to touch it,
so near, so blinding.
Where did it go?
He can see it at a distance again,
he is furious, so close,
starts his stride again,
desperate under his spell,
under his session of obsession.
thousands of attempts tried,
hundreds of years spent ,
running behind what amused him ,
feeling tricked by time, all the time,
but he wanted it bad,
his conscience didn't have a trace left,
of those lines any-more,
But he was never satisfied,
He left it all for nothing,
he realized as he sat down tired,
he sobbed as he saw the promising mirage,
smirking at him cunningly,
it was then that he realized,
that he was never kind to his life,
to leave his wife in search of ,
an unknown knife ,
that stabbed him in the back till he bled dry,
he is the man that was never kind to his own,
he is mankind.
but as he saw it again,
his want grew anew ,
like nothing had happened,
madness taking over,
marking the beginning of,
another session of obsession,
blinded by the false glory,
he runs till day ,
trying to catch it,
own it,
oblivious to the crumbling earth,
begging around him,
But he was under a spell,
A session of obsession .
-Nishant Nair
TE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
# Obsession with Positive Passion
Obsession can have positive as well as negative effect it all depend on you how you take it. Obsession basically means domination of one's thought or feeling by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc. According to this definition the outcome of obsession depends on the type of dominant thought one possesses. If one obsesses over positive empowering ideas, desires then amazing things can happen.
There is an innate tendency to do thing recursively that we enjoy the most. Ever observe a child obsessing over the same Disney movie and playing same game over and over, just because the find fun in doing so. As adult we sometime tend to lose the enjoyable side of obsession. We think as if they are unwanted thoughts and emotion. Yet we obsess more than we realize. Our thought, beliefs, attitude, desire, fear are shaped by habitual thinking and feeling.
Practise the positive way of living:
As everyone know this thought "Practice makes a man perfect.” But I would like to modify the thought a bit."Perfect practice makes a man perfect.” Put your energy and focus into practising something you want to improve. As we know practice makes whatever you do repeatedly. Some people keep on practising their mistake and they become perfect in it .Try to develop positive obsession. Cultivating good habits is like ploughing the field. It is never too late to change, regardless of your age and how old is your habit.
Learning new skill:
We think about doing many things in our life but we can't fulfill our thought due to some "sick" reasons. Pick something you really wanted to learn and make conscious decision that this going to be your new obsession. Get excited and build the anticipation of fun you're going to have.
Change your way of thinking:
All of us definitely have a stream of habitual thinking that shapes our view toward our life and also the decision that we take about our life. Creating new mantra of life that you love and repeating it over and over to establish new belief is an effective way of using your obsession to your advantage. Do it with all your focus and conviction and you will gradually change your thoughts.
Take our obsession into every aspect for empowerment. Allow yourself do the things you like and love do without any deliberate effort on your part, you will spread your positive energy and will encourage other to become obsessive as you are.
Obsession of love:
Obsession of love is a state in which one person feels overwhelming obsessive desire to possess another person toward whom they feel a strong attraction with an in ability to accept failure or rejection .They may be entirely convinced that their feeling are love , and may reject the idea that their severe obsession is not love.
”When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love." -J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
-Amruta Duduskar
SE, SIES Graduate School of Technology.
TE, SIES Graduate School of Technology
# Obsession with Positive Passion
Obsession can have positive as well as negative effect it all depend on you how you take it. Obsession basically means domination of one's thought or feeling by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc. According to this definition the outcome of obsession depends on the type of dominant thought one possesses. If one obsesses over positive empowering ideas, desires then amazing things can happen.
There is an innate tendency to do thing recursively that we enjoy the most. Ever observe a child obsessing over the same Disney movie and playing same game over and over, just because the find fun in doing so. As adult we sometime tend to lose the enjoyable side of obsession. We think as if they are unwanted thoughts and emotion. Yet we obsess more than we realize. Our thought, beliefs, attitude, desire, fear are shaped by habitual thinking and feeling.
Practise the positive way of living:
As everyone know this thought "Practice makes a man perfect.” But I would like to modify the thought a bit."Perfect practice makes a man perfect.” Put your energy and focus into practising something you want to improve. As we know practice makes whatever you do repeatedly. Some people keep on practising their mistake and they become perfect in it .Try to develop positive obsession. Cultivating good habits is like ploughing the field. It is never too late to change, regardless of your age and how old is your habit.
Learning new skill:
We think about doing many things in our life but we can't fulfill our thought due to some "sick" reasons. Pick something you really wanted to learn and make conscious decision that this going to be your new obsession. Get excited and build the anticipation of fun you're going to have.
Change your way of thinking:
All of us definitely have a stream of habitual thinking that shapes our view toward our life and also the decision that we take about our life. Creating new mantra of life that you love and repeating it over and over to establish new belief is an effective way of using your obsession to your advantage. Do it with all your focus and conviction and you will gradually change your thoughts.
Take our obsession into every aspect for empowerment. Allow yourself do the things you like and love do without any deliberate effort on your part, you will spread your positive energy and will encourage other to become obsessive as you are.
Obsession of love:
Obsession of love is a state in which one person feels overwhelming obsessive desire to possess another person toward whom they feel a strong attraction with an in ability to accept failure or rejection .They may be entirely convinced that their feeling are love , and may reject the idea that their severe obsession is not love.
”When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love." -J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
-Amruta Duduskar
SE, SIES Graduate School of Technology.