Tuesday, August 12, 2014

"I'm not like other people." - People

Disclaimer: This post may or may not be written under serious mood swings due to the death of Robin Williams causing severe alcohol abuse by the writer. (White wine. Never been a fan until quite recently)

We as human beings take great pride in being unique. We know that unless you're unfortunately handicapped, we're all born with two legs, two hands, a nose and two eyes. Or as a doctor once pointed out to me, "Two of everything by the side, one of everything down the middle."
We know we're similar in body structure but extremely different at heart, mind and soul. And we take great pride in being different from other people. We take great pride in being different and being someone who isn't easy to read and being unpredictable. But weirdly, people saying that they're unpredictable is perhaps the most predictable trait about human beings. 

We are, as people, 99% exactly the same. I recently had the privilege of attending a drama school with 16 other people from 13 different countries. I wanted to speak to each and every one of them, get to know about their cultures, their ideas how they think and the likes. One girl, who happened to be from Malta, on finding out that I wanted to know about people from Malta by talking to her said these exact words to me, "You won't find out what people from Malta are like by talking to me, I'm not a typical Maltese." And I'm a 100% sure she isn't. But think of this, imagine you are the person I spoke to. And considering that majority of my blog readers are from India, do any of you consider yourself a "typical Indian?" Probably not. And that's true for each and every one of you. Individuals will always take pride in being different, not being typical and being someone who stands out in a crowd. But so does everyone else. No one, not one will say, "Oh I'm a typically boring human being. Anything you need to figure out about me is very easy. I don't stand out in a crowd. I have no talents. People around me are loads better than I am." 

What's even more intriguing for me is that not only did I speak to that girl from Malta, I spoke to people from England, Ireland, Germany, Denmark, France, Korea, China, Cyprus, Turkey, Belgium and a couple other countries I can't even seem to remember right now. Each of them were different in their own right, but each of them being different and thinking they're different, thinking they have problems, thinking about certain things that make them happy, things that can only make them happy were true for each and everyone of them. They were similar in their differences. Similar in their diversity, similar in their uniqueness. 

And that (without wanting to generalise in any way what so ever), that means that all of us, regardless of where we are from or what we do, we are similar, we smile in our depression, sing when we think no one is watching, stop acting the fool when we realise people are looking. We think no one understands our pain, we think other people won't join in on our happiness the way we join in on theirs, we think, all modesty aside, we think we can make people feel better and make them feel stronger about themselves better than most people can. So think of this, if you were in the state of mind the other person is in, what would you want someone else to do? Just do that, because of the striking similarities in humans. 
If we realise our similarities lie in differences, not one would take their life out of depression. Not one would spend their lives trying to make people smile and not being able to smile themselves.

                                         *Returns to white wine and turns on Jumanji* 

Monday, March 24, 2014

"What Do You Do For A Living?" - India

Disclaimer: This post is written under severe influence of Gold Label, a barking dog and a foot massager. All thoughts to follow can probably be blamed on the Gold Label. (Parents who plan on sending messages to me saying your kids read this and the Gold Label bit will have a negative influence on them. Pish posh, your 12 year old kid smokes up and watches porn while you're away). Also this may or may not involve my life story.

We've grown up in a country where a public sector job is superior to nailing Mila Kunis. And if Justin Timberlake was Indian, he'd have the unique distinction of doing both. (Cry me a river would have been a political save water campaign). Furthermore, at the age of 16, we're considered too young to chill beyond 7pm with our friends but we're supposed to be mature enough to know what we want to do in our lives. "What do you want to be? You want to be a doctor? Science with Bio. Engineer? PCM. CA karoge? Commerce. Psychology padni hai? Humanities karo beta." A certain John Lennon said he wants to be happy. There really isn't a professional course that can teach you that.

In the summer of 2009, to very proud parents and grandparents, I got admission in Sri Guru Teg Bahadur Khalsa College, Delhi University. "Sada ladka, sikhaan de naal rehega BCom karega. Taraki karega." I spent majority of the first year going into every college Delhi University had to offer apart for my own and performing for random students bunking classes. As a result, at the end of the year I had 1.2% attendance, parents wondering where I went everyday after saying I'm off to college and a university who said I'm not eligible to give exams because I didn't attend classes (I'd just like to point out here that the teacher's weren't that keen on taking classes either).
Chalo ji, pehla saal repeat, parents pareshaan, aas pass society waale nazar utha ke dekh rahe. That year by far was the best learning experience of my life. It taught me that your relatives and the relatives of your neighbours who are in the most boring dead end job you could possiblty imagine will give you life advice while you in your head say, "Bhenchod tu clerk ki naukri karta hai." Because of course, society demands you to be polite to people insulting you if they're elder to you and/or are related.
I've had relatives of neighbours come up to me and ask what I do for a living. And having assumed that "I do magic" isn't a satisfactory answer, they've gone on to tell me how their wives were Harvard graduates and have led a successful life. (On further enquiry I learnt that their wife was a housewife and lived off of their husbands. Ghanta ukhaad liya Harvard degree ka).
But by far the most important thing that year taught me was that you shouldn't care about the money, the fame, the fortune, the success. Care about your happiness. Do things that make you happy, everything else will fall into place on it's own. Yes, it's easier said than done, yes you'll face rejection, yes you'll work harder than you would have ever worked had you taken the set path of school, college, post grad, office, marriage etc etc. But you'll be happier beyond your wildest dreams. I am. And trust me I've been way broke than I would have been had I done what society expects of me. But I've been happy even while broke. I know people who've been in similar fields and are amongst the happiest people I've met. Do what you want to do. Not what you think should be done based on what people have been doing over the years.
To end this, if I could contradict myself a bit and give life advice it would be this. "Do not set goals. Never ever ever set goals. The unhappiest people are those who set goals. Because if you achieve a goal, you're done. What next? The next goal? Is your life all about achieving goals and not living your life and not having time for yourself? On the other hand, if you don't achieve the set goal, you're sad that you couldn't get it. Don't set goals. Be happy enough, be brave enough, be proud enough to have the courage to deal with whatever life throws at you. Because being happy is way harder than being successful."
*goes back to Gold Label which is now accompanied by Nachos along with the foot massager.* *makes a note to put a wall hanging over the bed that says Life is Set Munna*

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Did You Miss Me? Of Sherlock Theories and More

"That's the big question innit? Stayin' alive!" - Jim Moriarty 
This post contains spoilers. So in case you haven't seen the latest season of Sherlock, please do go back to xvideos or youporn or whatever it is that you kids entertain yourself with these days. I recommend yourporn, just saying.
This is the first post I've written in over four months, so I must start of with hacking into every computer screen in the country with a meme like picture of me with a robotic voice saying, "Did you miss me?" Of course you didn't.
And if any of you haven't been living under a rock ever since the year started, you would have seen Season 3 of Sherlock and would surely have had the feeling of your brain running a marathon. Because let's face it Sherlock is easily the best thing to have ever been on television. Yes Game of Thrones, not you, Sherlock. And um Breaking Bad, I love you, but every time Los Pollos Hermanos is mentioned I get a serious craving of KFC, and I like to enjoy my television shows without wanting American fast food.
Stephen Moffat is perhaps the greatest story teller of our generation. And after the fandom had spent two excruciatingly long years trying to figure out how Sherlock Holmes faked his death, they come out with another three episode season where they have multiple explanations, leaving it open to interpretation of the audiences (probably not to disappoint the several theorists floating for years) AND without really giving a proper explanation they leave us with another cliffhanger. James Moriarty is alive. I mean really, did anyone actually die on that rooftop?
So here a couple of theories I could come up with on how Moriarty faked(?) his death.
Blank bullets, and tomato ketchup on the back of his head which is spilt on the floor of the roof as he falls. Er no.
Number one, as bollywoodish and Abbas Mustanish as this sounds, Jim Moriarty has a twin. A twin whose a children's tv actor, a twin who has these tv shows on dvd, a twin by the name of Richard Brook. Rewind to the first season, final episode. Sherlock and Moriarty on the pool side, Moriarty is everywhere, going out of one door saying he isn't going to kill Watson or Sherlock, comes back from another door shouting out a clue to us, "I'm sooooooooo changeable." Is it to be taken literally? So changeable that it's an entirely different person? Jim Moriarty or Richard Brook is dead. Jim Moriarty or Richard Brook is alive. Depending on whichever one of the brothers was on that roof and had a bullet going through his head.
Way too farfetched for some of you? Well, I see what you mean. This next one though is what I'm slightly more inclined towards, though it does disappoint me a bit.
Andrew Scott, the man who plays Moriarty is a fabulous actor. One I'd love to have back on the show. BUT, there is a possibility he actually is, dead. Let me explain. Charles Augustus Magnussen says to Sherlock towards the end of the episode, "Your brother is probably the most powerful man in Britain. Well except me." But Mr. Magnussen is dead (I really hope he is). Leaving Mycroft Holmes (Yes Janine, people actually call him that), as the most powerful man in Britain. As Magnussen said, Mycroft's pressure point is his little brother, Sherlock. If Sherlock goes into his "exile" to Eastern Europe, he would almost certainly die. Which would break dear Mycroft's heart. So the most powerful man in her majesty's land shows the most audacious criminal master mind the world has ever seen on every television across the country, knowing that it would bring his dear brother back from exile and save his almost certain death. 
There now, that's a possibility in a nutshell, or it's probably Stephen Moffat wanting us to think that, I don't know, the directors have got my mind running. So much so that I've come up with a method to have a mind palace of your own, which I might be willing to share with some of you, if you'd be sweet enough to drop a message on my Facebook page.
All said and done, till the next season comes about, our minds will be buzzing. You're such a tease Sherlock. Such a tease. Alright, of with all of you to watch the series again, because that's what I'm about to do.
                                                      *roll credits* *interrupt*


Er, not quite the cliffhanger for the next post. So think over this, Sherlock and Mycroft have a brother. Which a lot of people have delightfully missed. "The other one." Bye bye now.

Friday, September 6, 2013

The World Of Technology - Where Sleeping Companies Sleep Together

Me: "Okay Google Now." (a rickshaw passes by). X: "Oi bhenchod, 10 rupee kis baat ke maang ra hai?"
Google Now: "I'm sorry, I don't understand what oi means. Or bhenchod. Or kis baat ke maang ra hai. Would you like me to search the web for it?"
There was a time when Nokia launched the N series, when Steve Jobs launched a new Apple product, Google came out with something new, Samsung did some break through copy cat work, a time where people actually looked forward to seeing a new phone or a product with an air of excitement. Social media went crazy lusting after a product, twitter trends crashed, facebook feeds exploded. Then Blackberry launched three phones *ehm ehm boxes* in two days, Samsung increased the screen size of the phones, reduced the IQ level of the people and started selling brick sized plastic boxes with sweets for software and people went gaga. Add to it the fact that their tag line was "Designed for Humans." Sure, I was bored of phones being designed for cats.
Umm alright, before I start writing and start imposing my teeny tiny beliefs on all you sweet minions, please lets all take a moment to notice that Android's next version is called Kit Kat. Apparently, whenever you get a new phone with Android on it, from this moment on, it's mandatory to split it into two and give one half of it to the person next to you. Seeing the size of Samsung phones that might as well be a nice idea and may make the phones easier to use, it's also important to note that in India not only will you have to split the phone into two, you'll also have to split the piece you have left into two more pieces, and those into two more so you end up by going back in time and have phones the size of a Nokia 3350. So now it's a multi use product. It makes calls, plays snake and can be used to hammer nails into walls.
But wait, you can't have that either, Nokia's no longer a company. Mighty (hahhahaha) Microsoft bought over Nokia over 7.2 billion dollars. Microsoft. Nokia. They remind me of two sad humans, who have no options left and end up sleeping with each other because no one else would even look at them.
7.2 billion, huge amount? Ha, Motorola was worth 12 billion. Apple is worth a measly 500 billion on the day of speaking and Google a little over 250 billion. So basically, Apple is worth over 70 times of Nokia. To think that Nokia had 68% market share the day the first iPhone was launched. Okay okay, Apple makes iPads and Macs and iPods and all the other things, but Apple's iPhone business is over 150 billion dollars, still over 20 times of Nokia. Not a fair comparison?
Alright then, let's take a little moment to reflect on the fact that Nokia was billion dollars cheaper than a freely downloadable software (Skype). But then again, this is the hilarious world of technology and I have nothing against Nokia. I must say I'm rather looking forward to Microsoft's all new Xbox Asha. Okay I'll shut up. Let's talk about dear old Blackberry. Rumour has it that they're looking to sell themselves. The hilarity of it is that Nokia beat them to that as well. HA, can't do a thing right, can you Blackberry?
If we're talking about everything tech then why leave out lovely Apple. "We think Apple makes luxury products. We may have had below 5% market share at one point of time in laptops. But so do BMW and Mercedes in cars. And they're considered the standard through which cars in the world are judged. We don't want to make sub standard me too products just to be a part of the competition" - Steve Jobs.
And now ladies and gentlemen, lo and behold. On the 10th of September, Apple is rumoured to launch the iPhone 5C, a budget iPhone. I shall not say anything more and leave you to laugh at Tim Cook.
But you know when all is said and done what really makes a difference is that Kit Kat is now going to come with a scratch card that might make you win a phone. That's a better deal than Ajay Devgn from Golmaal ever had. Then again, all that doesn't matter to The Dark Lord.
Me: "Alright Google Now, time to go to bed."
Google Now: "Whatever bro, my parent company owns Motorola, you didn't say a thing about that"

Friday, August 9, 2013

A Train Journey With Shah Rukh Khan

It's the year 1995. A thin, tiny little four year old with a negligible pony tail sits between his parents in a movie theatre. A bucket of pop corn to big for his hands lies on his lap and a glass of pepsi in the glass holder on the reclining chair he's sitting on with the straw about to fall out. He sits waiting in anticipation. The lights go dim, the doors close, the hall fills up and the feature starts. A 30 year old man with scruffy weird hair, piercing eyes, an eagle like nose and an overlarge Adam's apple comes onto screen, looks at a woman and says, "Bade bade desho mein, chotti chotti baatein hoti rehti hain SeƱorita." That is one of the first memories I have of being in a movie theatre. Shah Rukh Khan, with all his wit, all his passion, all his charisma being on screen and doing what he does best appealed to the four year old me. I was entertained.
The next eighteen years of my life have been spent watching every Shah Rukh Khan movie on the day it came out. Then again the day after and then again when the dvd (read illegal torrent download with a decent print) comes out. This was followed by watching him hosting game shows and film awards. Doing a better job than Mr. Amitabh Bachchan at hosting a game show in India is a tall order (in every sense of the word tall) and I think that even though Shah Rukh did a decent job, no one touches Mr. Bachchan. As for the film awards, from 2005-2013, Shah Rukh has been one of the main reasons a major part of the country tunes in year after year. Being a mind reader I know a lot of you shake your head in disgust, but let me explain. I, like all blindfolded fans do love Shah Rukh Khan movies, I absolutely adore his showmanship on stage but if you call that obsession, nothing matches up to my insane amount of admiration for the man's wit, sense of humour, power of communication, command over languages that I've seen in hours and hours of interview footage of the man. Love him or hate him, you can't deny that the man is a national treasure. The last few years of an unhealthy amount of love and respect for the man have been like a train journey. Sometimes fun, sometimes rickety, sometimes annoying but almost always a delight.
Which is why it's ironic that a movie named after a train is the main reason so many fingers are being pointed and voices are being raised against the man which has made it even harder for loyal admirers such as myself to defend him. Let me get it straight, it's the first time in years I'm not going to catch a Shah Rukh movie the weekend it releases. Although that may be because after weeks of trying I haven't been able to convince any of my friends or acquaintances or even family for that matter to be crazy enough to watch the movie with me. But still, my love for him is enough that I'd be willing to be a loner and watch the movie alone. However something holds me back this time. It's probably a review that Taran Adarsh wrote of the movie which uses the words, "Typical Rohit Shetty" 25 times in 500 words. Which actually means, "Yaar samajh lo, bakwaas movie hai, Shah Rukh Khan hai, zaada against nahi bol sakta, industry mein career khattam ho jaega"."
Don't get me wrong, I still respect the man's showmanship, wit and wisdom. I just fail to understand why a man with his sense of humour and intellect would do a Rohit Shetty slapstick non sensical movie or dance to something as wonderfully intellectual as Lungi Dance. I've seen him deliver speeches at the India Today Conclave in 2009 and 2011, and they remain the most artistically deep, beautifully worded speeches I've ever heard any Indian deliver. Why then must he try a South Indian accent in Ra.One, fail miserably at it then be willing to act in a movie with Deepika Padukone doing the accent this time around while he tries to crack pathetic jokes and act in a way which would never ever suit him? Surely making Rohit Shetty's beloved Scorpios topple over can't be more rewarding than hear people applaud to performances like the ones in Baazigar, Darr, Chak De India, Swades and Devdas?
Mr. Khan, I absolutely adore you and if while sitting in your room at the Sheraton with pillows that say, "Shah Rukh", if I ever have the guts, I'd like to show you a video of one of your many beautifully worded speeches or talks then show you the trailer of Chennai Express and do all this without uttering a word and leave your brilliant mind to do the deductions.
Having said all of that, all my heart really hopes is that this indeed is a train journey which eventually ends in a delight because as I've said all the time for Shah Rukh, "Kahin na kahin, laakhon karodo log khush hain, kyu ki tum khush ho."

Monday, July 8, 2013

The Psychologically Creepy World Of Cartoons

I'm assuming based on the stats of my blog, that the people who are reading this post are probably aged between 13 and 30. So, before you read the post, here's a warning, don't read it. It'll potentially destroy all happy memories you had associated with your childhood days spent in front of a television watching Cartoon Network.
If you're still here out of the sheer love for me and the annoying brilliance of some of my posts, I shall like to start of by talking about the cartoon scene on television these days. Will one of you please, for the love of Hanna Barbera and everything nice explain to me, what in the flying fuck is Shin Chan? Or Ben 10? Whatever happened to Tom and Jerry, Scooby Doo, The Mask, The Adam's Family, Swat Kats, Captain Planet and everything that I grew up watching from the age to 3 to 10 sitting in my grandparent's house in front of the television eating seekh kebabs and an apple a day? Why has the apple kept all the amazing cartoons away instead of the doctor? Now while I punch myself repeatedly on the face with a brick for an attempt to make a joke, why don't you read on and destroy your childhood.
The first cartoon I remember watching is an adaptation of Batman. The first memory I have of an antagonist is The Joker in the cartoon. Back then, I was too young and the cartoon was too weird for me to understand the psychotic nature of The Joker which has clearly been immortalised almost a decade and a half later by Heath Ledger. Yet as I sat in my room, 18 years from seeing The Joker for the first time, I googled the psychological disorders of The Joker. One thing lead to another and I ordered books and books and pdfs about psychological disorders of cartoon characters in general. Here are a few things I found to be charmingly insane which lead me to believe that Hanna, Barbera and a man named David Levy were the creepiest people who ever lived.
One of the most famous cartoons to have ever been televised is Tom and Jerry. It was also one of the first cartoons that Hanna and Barbera wrote. Their main character was to be a cat named Tom who, hold your horses (or cats), who had a serious psychological disorder which made him not only hallucinate but also build characters in his head to keep himself happy. See the first ever unaired episode of Tom and Jerry involved a mouse named Jerry running around a suburban American household for months on end and being friends with a cat. The lady of the house (the one whose face we never see), orders her pet cat Tom to kill "the damn thing." That leads to a heroic chase around the house which ends in Tom catching, killing and eating the menace of a mouse, Jerry. Each and every episode of Tom and Jerry after that involves Tom going into depression, and beginning to hallucinate his dead friend Jerry around the house. He would then chase the mouse but never be able to catch it since it's already dead and exists only in Tom's head. The final episode of the show written by Hanna Barbera involved Tom being so creepily messed up in the head that he ends up committing suicide and imagines his friend Jerry doing the same with him. There, childhood ruined.
If you thought that was enough, here's a little more. My favourite all time cartoon has been Scooby Doo. Cute little talking dog eating scooby snacks and catching ghosts and criminals by plotting and making plans with "The Gang." Or so you would think. Fred, Shaagy, Dafne and Velma had a friend named Scooby. An actual person named Scooby who died years ago. Shaggy got a dog, named him Scooby and imagined his character being like their friend's character. Here's more, all four of them suffer from a disorder where they can imagine that the dog talks like their old friend Scooby. In reality, the dog can't actually utter a single word. Zoinks indeed.
The Addams family was written by a guy named J. Addams and despite the entire family being creepy, they didn't actually suffer from any disorders. Till J. Addams died and a guy named David Levy thought of adding just one more character. Cousin Itt. For those of you who don't remember Cousin Itt, he's the character who had insane amount of bushy orangey brown hair all over his body and wore shades and a hat. Now, Itt is the weirdest name anyone can have, but it's not his actual name. He's The Lord Voldemort of cartoon characters, all characters fear to speak the name. So he's called just Itt. The man doesn't actually have a body, it's just orangey brown hair with his sunglasses being the only feature about him. He sucks out the happiness out of other characters in the cartoon world. He is a mixture of Lord Voldemort and the Dementors of Azkaban in the cartoon world thanks to the twisted mind of one person who thought it would be nice to add such a character for infants and kids under the age of 10.
Here's a little more, the idea of Tom being able to see Jerry came from Hanna not being able to see a few faces. He suffered from a disorder where he couldn't see some people's facial features. They did the complete opposite of that for Tom's character. However, Hanna's disorder of not being able to see facial features lead to the creation of the lady of the house of Tom and Jerry and later Miss Bellum from Powerpuff Girls after which Hanna died and a few years later in 2006, Barbera died too and with it, died the cartoon industry.
Well that ends a pretty long post and with that a lot of happy childhood memories. To be really honest, I think after knowing all this, I'll prefer the first ever cartoon character I remember seeing, The Joker. His psychotic disorders are still more understandable. Till the next time we meet. *Goes off to shoot kids who watch things like Shin Chan*

Thursday, June 27, 2013

The World Is The Stage, Life Is A Performance

Applause. Standing ovation. Extreme silence. Darkness. Loneliness. Sadness. Applause.
India is a place where performing arts are done in abundance. Be it a snake charmer at a fare, a fakir lying on a bed of nails, the old Indian rope trick done in forts, a "magician" making himself fly on the streets with a cloth around him and a monkey with a drum as an assistant or a man eating swords and breathing fire.
Performances in the country have always been at a plenty. Of late, the charm of the snake charmers has begun to die, the rope trick has a fallen rope, the nails on the bed of the fakir are sharper and the only things monkeys do is torment housing places by breaking flower pots and stealing banans.
However the influence of the west is ever present in the world of performances in the country. Be it one act plays, be it a one man play, be it English stand up comedy or be it what I do, magic and mind reading. Yes the snake charmers and fakirs still exist, but the audiences are more open to "modern" forms of performances.
As a performer of an evolving and what I like to believe is a modern art, nothing makes me happier than to have an enthusiastic audience. But as it is famously said, the life of a performer has more ups and downs than a girl on a period. If you're a performer, I strongly believe you would relate to the remainder of this post, if you're not a performer and you're reading this AND have a friend/family member who is a performer, learn to accept that he/she has two lives.
The moment I step on stage, the world changes and becomes prettier. People seem nicer. Problems in life are thrown off and all the love, hate and other emotions are transferred onto performances which makes them seem better. Then there is applause which sounds better than any instrument, there are people's faces, which look prettier than people anywhere ever have and there are appreciative words which sound more poetic than anything Wordsworth ever wrote. But what follows is the strangest feeling a person can have. The extreme high of performing and hearing that applause is replaced by the silence of your room. You don't have the energy and the mental state to talk to people, television is boring, the computer beats you at FIFA and the coffee doesn't taste right. The high of being surrounded by cheering people is replaced by the low of being alone in a very familiar place which begins to feel like a deserted compound. 
However, this strange feeling can teach life lessons which being a hard earned billionaire can't teach you. It teaches you to learn how to be happy in a darkened room with no forms of life around you, it teaches you that when you're in a crowd, even your own shadow leaves you and if you can be happy then, you'll be the most successful person there ever was. 
Apart from that any performer who hasn't been booed of stage at least once in his life isn't a performer. He or she is an enthusiast. I've been booed off stage by 500 people, nothing, no person leaving, no injuries, no defeats can make a performer sadder than the sound of boos echoing around a theatre. But in what I've been told is a psychotic way, it's a strangely enriching experience. Being booed of stage teaches you how to handle rejection better than anything ever can. If you work in a company, usually you have appraisals where someone tells you how you're doing at work. I don't have a boss, I do my own appraisal. Or my audiences do it for me. Once in a while, your boss or manager will tell you that you're not doing well. That's one person, one time in one room with no one around. To have five hundred people reject you at the same time in front of each other makes you handle rejection. No girl turning you down, no deal not going through, no person disapproving of you after that can make you feel as bad. 
And of course if you still feel dejected, the hate for rejection, the love for a person and all the other emotions can be transferred into the performance, all the emotions can be thrown off stage which when done properly is followed by applause. Then standing ovations. Then extreme silence. Then darkness. Then loneliness. Then sadness. Then applause. And life becomes a performance.
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