Randomness: About

Well, here I go again, jumping on to the blogging bandwagon once more. It's all the same, as it was three years ago, only the place is different. I've shifted here from my previous blogging location. I have also planned to give my website a makeover with all the free time on my hands now, let's see if it materialises this time around.

The title of this blog reads "Life is a random process", and I bet most would agree that it's this very randomness in life that makes it worth living, worth cherishing, worth fighting for, worth dying for. It's the randomness in life which makes us look forward to, or dread each new day, to jump with excitment, or shirk away at the prospect of a new project, to exude warmth, or display coldness towards new people entering our lives.

I happen to be a creature of habit. I like sleeping on a particular side of the bed, and I don't want to change it. I like my favourite pair of slippers right next to my wardrobe, and I'll fight tooth and nail with my mom to keep them their, no matter how out of place or ugly they look to her. I like parking my car in a particular spot, and I shall continue to park it there as long as I continue to find it vacant. I've had the same profile names and same speed dials across three models of cellphones and over a period of three years. I've retained the same wallpaper on my computer desktop over numerous upgrades and uncountable crashes. I wear my right sock, right shoe or right glove before their "leftist" counterparts, always have. Don't ask me why I do it, I just do.

But if I were to really put some serious thought into the "why" of the aforementioned phenomenon, I'd be tempted to say it's a craving for stability, a feeling of sameness, a sense of security. I like to think that somethings in life are not random, but alas! One fine morning I'm bound to find that parking spot occupied. One afternoon my mom might finally decide she's had enough of that ugly, pathetic excuse for footwear. One evening, I might fall asleep on the "wrong" side of the bed after a long, hard day. One night, I might decide I've had enough of "Friends" characters on my desktop. And none of these things are under my control (or at least I like to think so).

If you've gotten this far (which I seriously doubt), you must have begun to wonder, "Is this going somewhere or is this guy rambling on for no apparent reason?". Well, read on...

Today was a day of mixed emotions for me. A bitter-sweet journey of memories over the last four years, and a peek into the coming two years.

Today was the day I bid adieu to many people who I've studied with, laughed with, cried with, enjoyed with, fought with. There were those who were just acquaintances or colleagues even after a period of four years. There were those who were good friends, those with whom I've shared the good times and the barrels of laughs. Then there were those with whom I've shared the good times and the bad times, the laughs and the tears. They have become a part of my existence, they are engrained in my being, they are a part of the fabric with which my life is woven. And as a creature of habit, it's not easy for me to let them go. There are some whom I'd forget in a jiffy, but then there are those who I can't forget no matter where life takes me or what I end up doing. It pains me to think I may not meet them again, but I like to think that I will. Hope, I've found out, is a matter of habit. I find solace and contentment knowing that they are moving on to better things, to better places.

Today was also the day I met some of my to-be colleagues. It was an exciting journey into the lives and minds of people coming from diverse backgrounds (hell, most of them were engineers, but that was nothing but a common thread running through us all), a peregrination which might some day result in a colleague becoming a friend. There was laughter, merry-making and joy, and it seemed strangely ironic that two years from now I might be feeling the same way I was earlier in the day. Life comes a full circle, every time; it's a creature of habit too.