I had another marathon blog-browsing session yesterday, trying desperately to find something new to read. I've come out largely empty-handed, but not without a deep sense of dissatisfaction and disappointment. Not at the blogs, mind you, a lot of them were rather good, but rather it's with myself. See, some of these blogs are too good. You might say they're actually much, much better than mine. Now, I've been through this before, and it was a bit crushing on my ego, but it was only a trifle. The thing is, most of these blogs beat me at my own game (by which I mean pseudo-philosophy and general musings on life, the universe and everything). And how! There are some that span back to the turn of the century and are filled with pages and pages of poems, stories and musings on many of the same things that I've written about here. The difference being, of course, that most of them are really, really good; which is even more crushing when you notice that, for example, the post about mortality and mankind's legacy on another blog is far more coherent, thought-out, and well-expressed.

I am strange creature in that I often recognize things such as jealousy from an early stage, but I make no attempt to correct them. I just sit back and go "Ah, whaddaya gonna do?" and let it run its natural course. For those of you that know me, the consequences are apparent.

Of course, the whole thing was largely inspiring, because now I have to show these people that they're dealing with me, the quintessential failure. No one's going to write a better reflection on failure than me, you hear!? After all, I is stronger than Darth Vapor.

It's interesting that all the blogs I read were written by Indians (because I followed the "Friends" links from a relative's blog). It sort of makes you wonder what they're putting in the water there that we all turn out like this, eh? By "this", I think I mean how we seem to love philosophy and art and thinking about life in general. Of course, 'twould be silly to think it's exclusive to us, so I guess I really mean that it's how we seem to love talking about philosophy, art, and so on. But one thing which struck me as odd is that the whole outlook of these desi-bloggers (gah I sound like a twat, don't I?) seems to be so unlike the image of people I had when I was there not too long ago. Perhaps I am too naive and conservative, but I don't remember swearing, dating and sexuality to be such common topics of debate. I am probably over-reacting, but I think the traditional, uber-conservative mindset that has dominated for a while is being fused with the Western mindset.

I remember when I went back two years ago, I stopped in a coffee-shop. Firstly, the whole premise of a coffee-shop seemed odd to me for some reason; as if it were directly influenced by stuff like Friends as "a place to chill" or some such inane expression. But the teens I saw in there, well, I don't want to use the word "sickening", but it's probably the one that captures what I felt. It was all quite surreal, really. For some odd reason, I felt like I was in an American TV show. It's hard to explain exactly why. I think it was just a vibe, which the rationalists among you might smirk at, but I believe in this sort of thing (when it suits my cause, naturally, otherwise it's voodoo mumbo-jumbo). I was deeply saddened, for it was as though these people thought that what they saw on TV of the western-life was something to aspire to; that the traditional Indian way had to be rejected in favour of one more in with the times. I suppose it's the little things that make one think like this. Little things like the way these kids (and they are kids, no matter how much they try to pretend they're mature and grown up) were talking, dressing, and if it makes any sense, just the way they looked. Once again it comes down to a vibe I got.

I felt as though I ought to tell them "Hey, guys, I've lived among this stuff for two years, and trust me, it ain't the paradise you think it is". Why did this affect me so much? I think I know why. For a whole two years, in the face of a new culture and a new way of life, I'd seen and heard things that were completely new to me, and they upset me a lot. 'Twas in those times of uncertainty that I thought of life in India, and wistfully recalled how innocent and simple it all was. Naturally it had its fair share of problems, but it was the very essence of life there that I admired. And why not? I am Indian. I had lived there 15 years of my life. Of course I admired it! But the thing is, I created in my head this image that people living in India were then a moral compass of sorts for me; how many times I thought "Oh, in India this would never have happened...".

Then, when I went back and saw the same things had begun to infiltrate into life there, I was disheartened to say the least.

Sometimes, I think if they really did move to the US or any other country with a similar culture, they would have a nightmare-ish time and would learn the folly of their ways. Then, the wise old sage Aditya could come and tell them all "See, I told you so". But I think I would be deluding myself. Chances are these people really would fit in, and embrace the new culture while (I presume) distancing themselves somewhat from their old one (for the two are mutually exclusive at some level, right?).

So what does it all mean? I don't honestly know. Perhaps that I am of a dying breed, that I am one of the few people (pointlessly?) resisiting a culture that seems to be taking over a lot of the world. Sad, really. I truly realize now that I don't fit in either here, in Sydney, or back in India. I'm a modern day nomad, destined to travel in search of somewhere to call home.

There's a darkness at the edge of town.