Wish You Were Here

Ok this was long pending. Today I had to type it out!

So I put on the once-defined Best of Floyd CD last night cause I was dying to listen to duh.. Floyd! (Later on I was to learn that one CD is just not enough to fit in the Best of Floyd and so I never made another one.) Well it all began 4 days back actually when I found my old guitar book. The initial part of it was filled with papa kehte hai, kal ho na ho and ajeeb daastan. Then finally I came to the pages where hotel california, sweet child of mine and stairway to heaven were respectfully written. Then just as I was about to close the book I noticed the last page and there it was - the very first solo I'd tried to tab - it was the small solo played in song the final cut and I played it immediately on my guitar. It took me back to the day when I'd tabbed it. Then it all came back to me.

Tanmay had left for Pune leaving behind a "deep" void. Him and Sundar were the ones who'd got me into Floyd (God bless them - Floyd/Tanmay/Sundar - all of them) and Tanmay had already started strumming most of the Floyd songs beautifully even before I could strum the C-chord properly and he would die trying to teach me the strumming patterns of these songs. He's unbelievably patient! Trust me people. If I were to teach myself, then I would've ended up smashing the guitar right into my face. So yes, Tanmay had left for Pune and I was to meet him in a week's time. Ever since I've learnt to hold the guitar he's been my sole guitar playing partner-cum-teacher, so a discussion as to what all new stuff we've learnt in these 2 months was bound to arise; so I was really keen to learn to play a new song, and I'd taken up his favourite Floyd song and tried to tab its solo which was thankfully easy. Then I'd played the same and had won his praise, it felt nice. Thank you thank you! So the other day I strummed the song and I realized how deeply have Floyd and Tanmay affected my life (yes expect more such corny stuff in this post).

So this post is dedicated strictly to my dear friend Tanmay - one of the best people I've known, the person whom I trust the most, the person whom I can easily confide in, oh ok, the only guy-friend whom I can so easily confide in, probably the only guy friend who knows of my latest of crushes and well... okay I would go on and on but the post has already become too sidey and I don't intend to give people wrong impressions about my relationship with Tanmay - YES YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE! IT'S NOT HOW YOU THINK IT IS!

We've come a long way - from knowing each other since the 8th grade - to becoming friends in the 9th - from cracking irritating one liners and kicking each other's ass - to me "betraying" him by acting a blabbermouth and letting the world know of his "secret" about the girl-he-liked-but-denied-he-liked-and-instead-accused-me-of-liking-her in the 10th grade - from playing the best cricket of our lives in 11th and 12th to fighting over who's better - Shah Rukh Khan or Amir Khan as also Backstreet Boys or Boyzone - then drifting apart a bit for next two years and then coming back to become the best of buddies till date - still fighting over who deserves to be in the second spot in our list of Best Rock Bands ever - Metallica or Iron Maiden - and hell lotta other things which shall never be disclosed to anyone.

Whenever I put on Floyd, the first person that comes to my head is Tanmay and the way I used to irritate him when he tried to make me listen to them as he detested the sounds of Linkin' Park (embarrassed) and Metallica, which were once my favourite bands some 4 years ago. Then finally when the enlightenment did happen, he educated me on Floyd and after I learnt to pluck my guitar, there was a total change of taste in music - what I hailed back then, I almost detest it now and Floyd rules without a shed of doubt. It shall always be Pink Floyd on the top of my charts and then any other band for me. Ok am drifting now but a post on Floyd won't really disappoint Tanmay and he would go on to appreciate it as well. The Roger Waters concert we attended was one of the best things that has happened to me and it certainly will be rated as one of the best days I've ever seen in my life. (Alright smartmouths, no one reminds me of the 3000 bucks passes or you've had it!)

So coming back to Tanmay, really miss the days when we used to attempt strumming songs together (well, he can play them, I still make an attempt to) and make Gauri listen to us (Oh God we irritate him so much!) and the days when we used to just sit with my LLB gang - all fucked up - thinking and wondering where our lives were heading and how sadly we were wasting them by just hanging around aimlessly at Prithvis and CCDs and Prithvis and Mochas and did I say Prithvi? (Alright its a private joke, so rest of the world may keep wondering.) Miss the days when we used to think we were wasting life when we were actually living it - it's so funny we never realized.

Puddle Of Mud & A Vote Of Thanks

The chaos reminds me of a kid sometimes. The age of innocence as it is rated. The absence of malice due to the ignorance of its existence altogether. The kid sees the dirty waters and it happily wants to jump into the same, feel the filth and enjoy a strange satisfaction. Even at that age staying clean isn't a "cool" idea probably. But the motherly hand rightly slaps the kid and washes off the stains and tries to clean the muck off the child so the child is nice and clean again. The child however keeps thinking of the dirty waters and its next opportunity to soak itself in the dirt. The child enjoys the muck till someone gets him out of the same. It is thus guided to think as to what the world thinks is dirt, what the "guide" thinks is dirt and finally what "I" should consider as "dirt". The child then grows up and wants to be on his own. He assures the scared mother that he won't get dirty again as he is aware of the filth. But the hand is no longer there to slap and clean. Now the child sees the mud and happily embraces the dirt; in the process he finds his friends already enjoying the mud bath. Then he finds a hand who helps him enjoy the swim. Then they all drown to live an unheard death.

********************

Today I want to thank you for letting me feel proud for what I am. You helped me shape my beliefs helped me be the person I am. Not all of you are present with me today. Some have decided to act ignorant and apathetic as today they let their ego defeat all that ever was . However I know I can trust you and am happy of the fact that there still exists you, whom, even in times of hate, I can so blindly trust. Some have decided to walk away for their own best bidding a careless goodbye but I still trust thee. Then there are the new you who have become inseparable. You go on to understand who I am and what I am and hadn't it been for you, I wouldn't have understood the words like "trust" and "faith". I am blessed to have you. Once again, thank you!

Hate Actually...

It still very much persists! They still hate me as much! I thought times have changed now and we all have matured enough to move on with our lives forgetting the old trifle issues; and they'd started accepting me for what I am and my way of life, but hell no!

They had it all planned out, they've been planning that attack for years now, just waiting for the right moment to strike; waiting for that lonesome moonless night when I would be all tired and helpless, when my only defence would be a calm surrender and which, in this case, meant embracing death at their jaws.

I should've seen it coming, should've recognized the warning signs when about a month back I went for my first cycle ride after 7 years. There they were, all over the alley, swarming the street like soldiers in times of war; I tried to smoothly cross them and a few of them just yelped, making me aware of their presence and the persisting hatred perhaps, but I'd banished these thoughts of hatred when just 2 weeks later the "cute" dog that Ms. Das had made friends with had given me the "I no longer care about your presence" look. It had made me delirious but the celebration was a secret affair, lest some feelings got affected in the process. Then it happened!

The moment had arrived! The stage was set for the encounter. A kilometer long alley, darkness of the night, punctured tires, a solo helpless rider desperate to reach home; it was a perfect trap!

They stood in 3 packs there, guarding their own areas. The first attack was lame, the attacker rose a bit too soon from his act of sleep as that was to be a warning enough for my tired-but-experienced eye to realize the oncoming danger. I accelerated away from them even before the entire pack could come a meter close to me! "They have a lot to explain to someone tomorrow", I thought as I phewed away on my bike. The second pack lay sleeping just a few meters from the first pack and I slowed down a bit seeing some pups playing around the area. I sounded the horn and the dogs nicely let me pass in peace! "Ah this is how its done," I thought. They'd left me thinking such after such a matured and understanding act. Also Ms. Das' advice of, "You just have to talk nicely to them" rung in my head. Alright, I thought, I just have to slow down and sound my horn. But soon I was to learn that the act put up by the second pack was a perfect deceit. There was no niceness in the air, it was plain blood and war! The act of letting me go was a decoy and I took the bait. The third pack lay sleeping some 10 meters from me now and I slowed down again and went on to sound the horn so as to alert them. I should've then noticed the vicious smile that one of the dogs had given me. I was now 4 meters from the pack and only then I heard the sound of heavy breath. I looked to my hind right and yes, there they were, racing on towards me to tear me apart. Seeing me distracted, the third pack took to their legs and the leader barked the "Attack!" bark. They couldn't have got me in a better (for me worse) place as to my left was a gutter, right in front of me stood a parked bus and to my right, some few dozens of blood thirsty canines ready to gnaw my skin!

My mind raced back 11 years. One day when I was happily cycling my way to school humming the background score of "Street Hawk" and trying to act Jessie on my cycle, these beasts had suddenly appeared from nowhere and had resulted in my fall. Then I remembered my neighbour-waking scream which had immediately gathered a crowd around me and thus saving me from the destined death. But back then I'd screamed at 6.30 am, the time when the world waits for their alarm clock to sound again; and now it was 2.30 am - the time when the same people would've fed me to these blood thirsty animals had I disturbed them with my scream. But I had no other option, I was going to be their meal anyway, and so, not letting performance anxiety get to me, I let out that earth-shaking, glass-breaking and most importantly, dog-confusing scream. It was a simple loud "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" and it was done by looking straight in the eye of the leader of the pack. Stunned by that voice, I think, the leader backed away and rest of the gang just yelped, frozen in their respective positions. Without wasting a millisecond more, I sped away. I opened the garage door and fell to the ground, the trembling legs couldn't find life in them. A few minutes later I gathered myself and walked into my home.

I guess some things are bound to be and they will never change! Their hatred towards me shall continue forever! But I still hold a soft spot for Labradors and I believe so do they. The Lab owned by my cousin is one of the laziest beasts I've ever seen - too lazy to even bark at strangers, chasing speeding metal is just out of question. So if you ask me if I would ever own a pet dog, then I would say "Yes" only on 3 conditions:
1. It has to be a Labrador
2. You have to clean the poop
3. You have to make him like me somehow. I cannot stand conspirators.

Thought For The Day

Test of true friendship: No matter how badly your friend stinks, you would still want to hug him :P

Journey

The slight drizzle after the heavy downpour had made it a pleasant life now. The nature suddenly had come alive as the soaked green trees happily waved in the breeze. The waterfalls had already started bathing the heated mountain rocks and a sparrow fluttered its wings in an attempt to dry them on a nearby branch. There was a welcome calm.

Raghav sat pondering over his mother's words as he enjoyed the wetness of the rain drops on his outstretched arms. He seemed far away from the commotion that went on inside the van which carried him home. He barely noticed his fat cousin sitting on his lap. He somehow didn't care to whine about the same now. He barely heard his uncle discuss over the gruesome accident that he had witnessed ten minutes back. He preferred appreciating the beauty that lay outside. He was happy.

He looked at his fellow travelers and smiled. The brilliant colours of nature were ignored over a discussion on the deaths and destruction caused by the same. He thought over the words again, ".. too busy to notice God", smiled and continued to enjoy the nature and peace it had brought within him.

He thought of his life as a kid. For once he tried to focus on the happy part of it and chose to ignore the sad memories. He realized his power to choose.

He thought of the girl he'd liked sometime back. She wasn't the prettiest thing on earth, she didn't possess the fairy-tale looks, she wasn't his dream girl or even close, but he'd liked her, liked her inspite of all this. But back then he'd never mentioned her to any of his friends and never her as he'd feared being mocked at for falling for a not-so-pretty female. Today he felt like going to her and telling her how he felt of her.

He looked at his sister and recalled the day she'd rudely refused the guy who'd proposed to marry her because he chose blue over green and left over right or something like that. He felt sorry for having judged her.

He thought of the blind man who begged outside his school. He wondered if this blind man's life was more different than his own. "Perhaps he was blind not out of choice", thought Raghav, "but I am! I choose to play blind towards all the good that has ever happened to me and still happens around me, but I choose to pay heed to all the wrongs and let them seem magnified than they actually are. I choose to hate a person for all the bad he's ever done to me and forget all his good deeds. I choose to let sorrow easily affect me and I choose to let my happiness rest in someone else's hands and not mine. I choose to shut close the door to the light and shout darkness. I choose to be blind."

He was amused by the excitement created by a tragedy and the long lasting effect it holds over a human mind; how easily it overshadows the good news for the day. How we immortalize the same and let the evil taste a moral victory.

Raghav's mind revisited the temple. He saw the idol of God for 2 seconds again. But this time he let his eyes focus on the brilliant smile the idol wore. He saw the decorations made in praise of the Lord, the beautiful throne on which He was seated; he suddenly seemed to have spent more time in those 2 seconds before the Lord. He looked at the crowded villagers and witnessed the faith they carried in their eyes; how their old tired bodies had bore the brunt of the scorching heat and had still climbed the hill. He noticed their naked feet, all swollen now. They'd come to seek His blessings and all this barely seemed to have affected them or their faith in Him. Did they not feel the heat? Did they never feel the pain? Did they not see that beggar? Did they not see that dirt? Did they not feel the crowd? Did they still find peace?

Raghav saw the pundits who were busy making money in the name of the Almighty. He compared his life with theirs. Back in city, he had a million ways of earning a living but here they had just 2 choices - either become a farmer, which wasn't possible for all of them, or lead a life of a pundit and earn their living.

He thought of the chaos now and it suddenly seemed to have calm itself. He looked at the world around him, it seemed beautiful.

Raghav goes to temple

It was hot and Raghav certainly wasn't enjoying it. He was sweating from head to toe and he could barely recognize his stink from his sticky stinky neighbours'. It was 11 am and Raghav was trying to rest himself in the temple. After a million "Why"s later Raghav had unwillingly packed his bags and had come to his village to visit his family deity with all 15 family members. He always had hated his aunts and uncles and traveling with them for 3 days certainly wasn't his best of dreams. But here he found himself sitting amongst them inside the temple which was a good 30 min climb, atop a hill some 18 hours from where he stayed at a nice cozy place in Mumbai.

The temple was a small room which could barely fit some 30 to 40 people at the most. Inside this temple hung a single 3-blade fan about 5 to 6 metres from the floor, which rotated at a real sloppy pace. It was as good as inexistent as it certainly wasn't sufficient to comfort - the 300 plus worshipers that stormed the place every second, a God, few dozen pundits and an irritated Raghav, who was pushed away by the guards as he'd stood before the Idol for more than the stipulated time of 2 seconds alloted to each devotee, and Raghav wasn't even one! Raghav was sitting in the middle of a small square meant for meditation. Raghav found it impossible to close his eyes as he kept his focus on the rat that seemed to enjoy itself amongst the crowd as anyone barely noticed its presence. What amused Raghav was that it was merely shooed away by a lady who had her eyes tightly closed in order to offer some serious prayers; who, hadn't she been in that state, would have had certainly cried for help on seeing the rodent! "Ah well! The God favors him", Raghav thought. Around Raghav sat some few hundred people offering their prayers and the pundits doing the needful by chanting away the prayers in a language best understood by them and probably the God. The rat quietly made its way out of the temple without causing any disturbance whatsoever. Raghav now tried to close his eyes and meditate. However the rice flakes kept hitting him and it really bothered Raghav. He nearly shouted, "Watch your aim!" but on realizing that he would have to do that at the risk of losing his place made him stay quiet. It was all bearable till the village Sarpanch decided to show up. Suddenly everyone had a change of taste! The devotees suddenly changed their God. More than half the temple suddenly touched the Sarpanch's feet as they shamelessly turned their back to the Almighty! Raghav's cousin turned to him and whispered, "Ah well, they feel, if not the labeled-God, at least the voted-God would grant their wishes ", Raghav chuckled. But his smile was soon to die away as now the entire "first family" of the village made its entry into the temple to offer their prayers. The villagers gave them enough space so that at least they could offer their prayers in peace. But this was done at the cost of the already present crowded devotees and Raghav, who had just about enough space to keep his toe from stepping in his neighbour's pooja! As a result bodies were pushed and Raghav was getting dragged behind.

Then it happened!

An elderly lady slipped off her sari fell head first on Raghav's shoulders. Her long, wet, sticky hair filled Rahgav's nose, who, while attempting to shoo it away, let the lady fall on him even more so that her arm slapped Raghav and Raghav's body, in order to save itself from falling, adjusted its right arm in such a way that it fell on the pooja of one of the neighbours' and extinguished the light or the aarti. The pundit not only stopped chanting the prayers but in the same sentence he swore at Raghav. The "fallen Raghav" now had the chance of looking at the staring eyes of the person on whom he'd fallen. Before the man could take resort to any form of physical violence (as Raghav feared then), Raghav quickly moved his left hand and pushed the lady off him. The result of his action led to displacement of three more poojas and Raghav was pushed out of the square. Now an enraged Raghav pushed himself out of the temple as all angry devotees took turns swearing at him.

Out of the temple and breathing life again, Raghav tried resting on the benches waiting for his family members to finish of their prayers. But peace was far from Raghav. The beggars came upto him and it took 20 minutes to explain them that he wasn't carrying any money. Irritated by the nonsense, Raghav went on to rest near the cliff, but the pile of garbage that lay astray bothered him even more. Dried coconuts, dried flowers, plastic and more plastic filled the surroundings. It was a garbage dump! Fuming he went back to the temple veranda where some pundits tried to coerce him into paying them some amount so they would offer prayers in his name. Irritated by the "God-on-sale" campaign throughout the area, he nearly screamed at his mother when she stepped out of the temple.

"I hate temples! These certainly are the filthiest places on earth or at least this one is! I try to offer prayers and I'm pushed away by the guards, I try to meditate and it's impossible to breathe, there are rodents all over the place, they try to sell God, there is garbage everywhere! It's the last place where God would choose to reside! If God does reside over here, I really pity Him as he has to witness all this muck that lays undisturbed around His so-called home! His loyal worshipers are blind, they go on to choose the Sarpanch before Him, why do they even care to call Him the God, instead they should just choose the Sarpanch as their God right? Mother, really where is God here?"

Mother quietly looked at Raghav and smiled. In a very quiet voice she said, "Yes Raghav, you were too busy to notice God".