Muddy Waters

I see you my friend
A lost soul in muddy waters
Find a passing ledge
So you rest your hands
You feel so safe
And feel so wanted

And another chance goes by
But your eyes were shut
And you were lost in the wrong arms
So deep, that you never woke up

Then the pleasant time is over
And you see another sunset
Holding a new hand, you wonder
Will he be your saviour
So you kiss his cold wet lips
And give yourself in
Well another disappointment
When you wake up all alone

And days, they pass you by
You thinkin', when this chase will end
Don't shed those tears
They're just a passing phase
Is this disgrace?

Running to a new place all day
Stepping in new shoes all night
Waking up as a different person everyday
Do you still remember the real you?

Swimming in muddy waters
Someday come out as yourself
Don't need another hand to save you
All you ever need is you

Summer of '08

[Here is to Divya]

You got your first real six-string
Bought it at five grand damn!
Played it till the G-string broke
It was the summer of zero eight

You and some bro from blog
Had some drinks and got real high
Your bro quit, but you kept drinking
Should've known you'll get hit hard

Oh, when we watched those plays
Those dramas seemed to last forever
And if we had a choice
Yeah, we'd never be there
Those were the best days of our lives

Ain't no use in complainin'
When I've got a job to do
You spent your life in law school
Only vacations is when we meet yeah!

Sitting at the nearby Mac
We'd eat and discuss life forever
Oh the way we dropped there cheese
We knew the stain'd still be there
Those were the best days of our lives

Back in the summer of zero eight

Man we were kickin' ass
We joined kickboxin' class
We reached NCPA at last
Our talks didn't last forever, no

And now the times are changin'
Look at everything that's come and gone
Sometimes when I have drink with Patrick
I think about ya, wonder what's going on

With the winds in our hair
Ran to the hills like never
Biking to the unknown lands
We thought we'd stay lost forever
Those were the best days of our lives

Back in the summer of zero eight

Raj Thackrey, Shiv Sena - Help Needed

Why are you guys letting the non-Mumbaikar NSGs risk their lives for your junta? Where are your martyrs now? Or have they gone in hiding at the sight of real trouble? Perhaps it's not Marathi Manoos' problem, is it? Looks like changing Bombay to Mumbai hasn't quite helped things, has it?

Thank You

It was a strange world back then, when everything just blew away, all at once - sand in the wind - it was for both of us, all of us; everyone of mine, everyone of you. Now they've opened a new world for us, both of us. As these gates open and as we step in, into this celebration, this carnival, a new home welcomes us, a new life unfolds - this is for all of you, a part of my world, our world, then and now, thank you.

Make Us Disappear

You hide me like that dirty patch on skin
Too ashamed to show the world I'm your sin
In time I know these acids take their toll
To corrode that skin and create a few new holes

In me, you find a shallow man
All for lust, who never understands
This word called love, it's all farce and fake
I know this truth, in love we all betray

Now here I wait for your ghosts to disappear
Here I wait for my time to make it there
Overwrite your past, so I gift you a blank page
Write new words, filled with hate, pain and rage

I touch your skin and it raises dead old days
Those poisoned lives, which need to be erased
Ignite this match and incinerate our lives
At least this love won't die a sad demise

So now is the time to make the compromise
Phantom pain that we need to set aside
Those golden times seem good for TV screens
So here we sit, wrapped in our rags of misery

Smile, while I wait for my ghosts to disappear
Wipe off that smirk, I should be the one you fear
Cry all you can while you have this time to waste
I'll bring my toys and dissipate your nest

Till all of this gets over
I will never leave your side
Strength we derive
From the word that takes our lives

Somehow we'll make our ghosts to disappear
Life is just a mirror now
Someway we'll have our place to disappear
Hell-blessed life gets calmer now

Two Mothers

Hey Mama, look at my face
Blood of an unknown, should I call this disgrace
Should I be ashamed?
But Mama, don't you be mad at me
I was following their call
They've made us blind, don't you see?
In their words we believe

We're just standing in lines
For our Gods to command
We're just living our lives
Burying others in sand

And you believe
We killed them for nothing
But we are told
It was surely worth something

I don't know my mind
Don't blame me Mama
Don't arouse that guilt
That kill just helped me live
My life I got
So I kill more of their lot
I'm just a stupid soldier
Living just for this cause

Don't hate me Mama
'Cause it's not what I want
They said it's a war for peace
No free will I've got

Hell awaits me tomorrow I know
So let me live my day
I use my guns, to shoot them down
So you see your sun next day
(Mama wants to see her son)

Don't you see
I'm going to hell for you
I kill that man for you
Got blood on my hands for you
And you don't want to see me now
Mama, I'm dying to save you
And now you hate me

Drama Queen [The Death Begins]

Hey Drama Queen, where did you go?
The lights are on, five minutes for show

You left your crown, left your make-up,
Bored of death, did you wake up?
Found a new sun in your life,
Or a new hate you can defy?

Hey Drama Queen, we cherished your show
But your dirty tricks, soon became a joke

The audience, they left for home
Change your act, it's just a drone
Your time is up, let's discard you now
Your rape on our minds, let's bring you down

Hey Drama Queen, rush, run away
The crazy man has lived the day

Welcome joker, you're back in town
Sell some smiles, replace their frowns
Let the chaos make it's way
Words are dead, now they'll pay

Grab her gun, let's make our way
Some kill to do now, our highway to hell
We're free birds, we own this town
Madness welcome, let's burn them down

Circle

People under the sun
Come and they go
Living a life
They all say they know

Unknown hands
Hold them close
Tie a knot
Before you let go

Fragile as a whisper
Then it blows away
Dreams - useless scribbles
Erase them away

All these words
Forever they stay
Death it comes
Carrying forever away

Under the sun
We swam together
Pride and ignorance
We breathed together

Then the moment, it came,
We lost our sun
Tired old hands
We all became one

Child Out Of Time

Hey my lost child
It's okay
The sun is out
Now let's just play
We all went down
One by one
But never did we
Decide to die alone

Hey my l'il child
Life's so strange
We all know the smiles
They fade away
But the one l'il curve
That makes my day
Is your sweet sweet smile
That your face's betrayed

Life's a joke
We never shared
In the morning sun
When we didn't care
The wind it came to blow our house away
We held it close and we made it stay

Hey my l'il child
We don't want today
Come tomorrow
We'll be okay
It's a bitch, this life
It never plays fair
Let's quilt our home,
And we'll be okay

Hey my sweet child
We'll be okay
Hey my l'il child
Hey my l'il child
Hey my l'il child

Fade to Be-Lack

Corniness is filling me
To the point of agony

Arghhhhhhh!

A Lost Song

In the winter of my life
The darkness I spread to you
In the dead calm that builds around,
Around me, I hear your whispers

Then time it goes
On it's same ol' course
And i still hold on
To you.

In your words I find
A way to come around
Find me, a lost boy
Holding a broken toy of a world

Then life it goes
On it's blinded course
And I hold on to
The dead you.

We shared we closed
We walked before we froze
In the circle of things
We reached our homes.

Hey Joker

All this perpetual longing for happiness made you stick up that smile on your slippery, soaked skin. But did they ever tell you, that this paint that you wear, doesn't come for free?

Almost There!

Here is my brain
Smash it to pulp.
Hate me as I hate you.
Disown me
Kick me
Suffocate me
I sleep now
Don't wake me up
Goodnight.

Search And Kill

Seeps into me,
It grows.
Finds a way to rip it apart.

A complete house, break it to pieces.
Reside in here, wither away,
But not you.

Drama Queen

Hey Drama Queen, the sun is up
The show will start, put on your make-up

Hey Drama Queen, enter the stage,
Start your act, the crowd awaits

That's the boy, catch his stare
Entertain him, make him care
He likes your story, he won't ignore
The life he lives is a fuckin' bore
Got your audience, shout in joy
Cast your spell on that stupid boy
Make him blind, he will follow
No way out nowhere to go

Hey Drama Queen, here I clap
A word of caution for your newer act

Hey Drama Queen, just look around
That woman in the back, she made a sound

The boy, you keep him far away
Don't ignore him,lest he sways
Let him start his stupid talk,
Ear we give, before we mock
Heart-broken, he weeps away
The joker, he left for miles away
Keep him busy, don't you fail
We need the boy to complete our tale

Careful now, oh, Drama Queen
Hold him tight, so he's never seen
Stick your sad smile on his face
Smear his make-up, strip him bare
Sit by him, hug him close
Make him struggle with your hold

But hold by hold, he slips away
Into the darkness, blind and scared
Woman in the back, she makes her move
Sits him down, feeds new truth

Hey Drama Queen, look around
Air is filled with a new din,
Raise thy sound

Lights get dim, they fade away
One by one they all have left
Empty theatre is your life

On stage, you were alone
The spotlight you so loved
The spotlight you once owned
That spotlight now abandons you

Curtains fall, here is the blade
Slit thy wrist so posthumously you might be hailed
Lights out!

Clay

Brought to life, screaming and breathing
Given an empty brain for start
Worthless as clay, the world's a potter
Give it a shape, your son or daughter

Miracle minds, give them a thought
Forget that head and what he was
Pour in silence and fill in some hate
Mould his life and call it his fate

Now suffered and tired, kicking the walls of his cell
Peeping through holes they call it a maybe
Hope's a prison they've tied you in
Bundled like a packaged box of sins

Your new world is a dream, break the pot to live it
But freedom is a myth, another hope another maybe

Take that seat and watch the TV
They sell you a life you couldn't be in
They build a God to define your wrongs,
Change them to rights, it makes them strong

Done with trying, just nod your heads,
Forget all we sang, erase all we said.
Deluded heads, let's shout in joy
Dandy and fake, we are all born dead

We are Indians...

1. We are Indians. We do not speak of sex. We do not have sex. It is against our culture to even utter the "S"-word. Mallanaga Vatsyayana was a foreigner.

2. We are not the most populous country. It's a sham. There hardly are any Indians in this world. We are getting extinct since we do not know anything about "S". Save Indians. Make Indians.

3. Our constitution grants us the right to litter and spit. It is our fundamental duty to verbally or physically abuse, any person, (esp. if he is an Indian) who attempts to deprive us of our right to spit and litter. Sec. 325(i)dont(care) of IPC, gives right to the "spitter", to make the "preacher" spit ten times in a row on ten different streets each, after forcing a beatle(beetle) leaf with tobacco in his mouth. I believe this measure shall help the "preacher" to understand the concept of colours, and the real meaning behind the term "colourful nation called India".

4. Gutters, drainage pipes, pavements and footpaths are foreign terms, not well-defined in any Indian language. So we do not use them, I mean the terms. Here is the real and correct definition of the same:

Gutter:
i) Indian for thrash-can or dust-bin.
ii) A public-cum-private disposal unit situated outside every Indian household/building.
iii) A strategically located dust-bin outside every compound wall, so that the residents do not have to store the garbage inside their compounds. It also helps to store rain water during the times of floods. An excellent provision made by the government for the convenience of Indians.
iii) A shelter for rats and other rodents, many-a-times invaded by stray-dogs and stray-cats.

The civilizations of Mohenjo-daro and Harappa used it for reasons unknown and unheard of to Indians. Some rate it waste of space in the surprisingly crowded India where we do not even talk of "S".

Pavements/Footpaths:
i) A part of the road reserved for hawkers, beggars, homeless and for storage of domestic and public waste and mortars when the gutters are full. Walking on them can prove hazardous to your health. Use the roads.
ii) During the times of traffic jams, these may be used by two-wheelers as a road itself.

Drainage Pipes:
A pipe connecting the households to the gutters for the convenience of disposal of household waste of all forms. It is however not advisable to dispose off plastic and hair through these pipes, as Indians are yet to master the technology of making such form of waste travel along smoothly. Hence, gutters have to be accessed directly for disposing the same. Inncovenience is regretted by the government.

5. We are an open-minded Indian family. We will accept bride of our son's choice. Our only conditions are, she has to be an Indian (of course), a Hindu (it's religion finally), a Maharashtrian (she should speak our language, how else can we communicate), a Bhramin (race matters). She shouldn't be consuming alcohol or smoking cigarettes as it is against our culture (what our son does and how he lives is none of her business) and if she has even heard the term "drugs", then she has put her family to shame. But we are a very open-minded, well-cultured, Indian family.

6. We Indians, strongly believe in intolerance towards your language, race, religion, region and every other single feature that is distinct from us. We are determined to not accept and never adapt "the others".

7. We will never contribute, in anyway, towards our race, religion, region or language but we shall stay proud and arrogant and we shall hate every single person, not belonging to our caste, race, religion, region. Our hate was not, is not and will never be justified.

8. We are given the freedom of speech. We can use this freedom to the extent that we follow the condition of not affecting the feelings of the "sensitive ones". If we get affected by the same, it is not their problem.

9. When we see a celebrity. we have to keep staring at her till she starts feeling awkward and leaves the place.

10. We are Maharashtrians. We will only eat at a Maharashtrian restaurant.

11. At a Maharashtrian restaurant, we have dishes from all over the world listed on our menu. But we will never serve them since we never cook them. We list them only to decorate our menu.

12. At a Maharashtrian restaurant, we speak only in Marathi. If the customer cannot speak the language or he cannot understand the same, then it is his problem.

13. At a Maharashtrian restaurant, after we clean your table, the floor gets dirty. Cleaning the same is the floor-cleaner's problem. Waiter can only help him to an extent by kicking the same below the customer's table. Customer should mind his feet. If they get dirty in the process, then it is not the waiter's problem.

14. You cannot "abuse" the food by saying it's half-cooked, over-cooked, not-cooked. The chef may relax. It is not his fault if the customer doesn't like the food he made.

15. At a Maharashtrian restaurant, we do not ask the customer if he wants anything more after he is done with his meal. We do not take your orders again and again. We just hand you over the bill. Please leave fast. There are others waiting.

16. We are Indians and we swear to never improve.

Summer That's Breezing By

Some things noteworthy:

1. I quit my job, yet again and started working on my own, yes, yet again; only this time, with more determination; as a result, I'm still jobless. Give me work.

2. After immense struggle, that lasted for a month and a half, got rich for a while, but then I had to spend on certain things that eventually became necessities. So I need your money again. Give me work.

3. Patrick quit smoking, I quit cribbing. We all are getting rid of our bad habits.
(Note: The above two points are not complaints. They are just present situations, exemplified.)

4. Divya, my dear l'il e-sis, finally came home. She forced me to play the guitar, then she suffered the consequences.

5. Divya started listening to Alice in Chains. Things are looking much better now.

6. Spent an entire night on phone with someone (seven straight hours). Then she went off to sleep after promising to call me on getting up. It's been a month and a half, I think she's still sleeping.

7. Survivied one of the most embarrassing moments - got high on a pint of beer. The embarrassment didn't stop at that. It continued with Divya and Virus, degrading my name on their respective personal-yet-public blogs. However, the love still prevails.

8. I am in love again. It's beer this time.

9. The jobless me started a job site to help other jobless people like me.

10. Did a certificate creative writing course. There they taught me to read. I gave up on writing after that.

11. Lost 8 kgs more in just 2 months. My mother freaked out and told on me to our family doc.

12. Cell phone bills fell drastically from Rs.1200 to Rs.300 and then again got back to Rs.800.

13. A magazine went ahead and published 3 of my stories. That was the closest I got, to becoming famous.

14. Thanks to the terrible music programs that run on the television, my intolerance towards other forms of music increased.
(Note: I am not cribbing. It's the state of mind.)

15. Joined kickboxing classes with my dear sister. Divya and I, now fight crime. BEWARE!

16. The stupid siblings got plastered at the most unlikeliest of places. Then we shared some deep dark secrets. Then we both got embarrassed. Alright, I had no reason to feel embarrassed about anything.

17. Watched a weird play with Divya at NCPA. The debate that went on after the play ended was the best moment of that evening.

18. Divya and I, got lost more than a couple of times in our very own Bombay.

19. My hatred, anger and loathing towards the Thackrey family and our government in general worsened, and I'm all the more determined on becoming a terrorist soon. That's right, kill me now while you still can.

20. Finally found a terrific graphic designer in our very own Monty. Hope things stay as smooth.

21. Family drama returned to haunt us, yet again. Only this time, the heroes became the villains and the villains, well they are still the villains.

-------------

The summer is gone and the rains are here. But the good part is the sun is still shining. So long then.

Song For The Day

Parikrama - Open Skies

Say goodbye. Don't follow.

Sometimes we walk away so far, that going back becomes impossible. We turn around only to face a different world. Of course it will change, everyone walks. Stable life is unknown and it shouldn't be. Stability degrades you. Look at a dead body. It rots, germs eat it. That's decay for you. Sometimes we are so far gone, that we look into the rearview mirror only to find nothingness. If we could see a glimpse of the world we walked away from in there, then we have hope. But that's not the scenario. The barren land is what the mirror reflects. That's when we realise, that all we can do is hang our heads low, look at the ground and just smile. It isn't defeat really, it's loss maybe. But then there is also gain and one shouldn't really ignore that. We never lose. There is always gain at the loss of something. It is really important to understand the weight of these two words - how much they mean to you and how much they are really worth, as that's when you know how much these really matter to you. We keep walking and the road is always undefined. It is always a haze, being just an imagination, an idea, an uncertainty, just a painting in our minds. It's the same to everyone. But sometimes, we just want to sit down, take a break maybe and catch a glimpse of what we left behind. However, we are not always lucky, because although we've taken a break, the world still walks on. So again we just smile and walk on. It's a funny world.

And It Makes Me Wonder...

... if Layne Staley was still breathing, if someone had just stopped John Bonham that day from going overboard with alcohol, if Roger Waters and David Gilmore had never parted ways, if Cliff Burton had survived the tragedy, if someone had saved Dimebag Darrell from the gunshot, if Lynyrd Skynyrd had survived the plane crash, what a different world it would've been today.

Alright, the most important question now, did you or did you not empty my bottle of vodka?

Gel Is Hell

(This short story got published in the HAIR magazine & it's a work of fiction. Any attempts to kick my divine ass on basis of this story shall be dealt with seriously.)

I understand the importance of advertisements, but it would be of a great help if they also gave a list of instructions advising the audience on what one must NOT do with their products!

I got a chance to go on a date after some six long months of a dull and virtually dead social life. Relief, excitement, anxiety – all ended up making me nervous and overtly conscious. When all of these emotions come to haunt you together, everything that the mirror reflects seems like a mess-up! Almost nothing seemed in its place. With no help round the corner, you are left with little choice but to just resign to your fate and offer a quick prayer to Him, so things would work out fine.

I had an anxious hour to kill before I started for the big date. To release my tension, I switched on the TV. An endorsement of some new hair gel by a celebrated cricketer was being aired. Cricket and hair gel don’t really match, but when you are listless and confused, every advice thrown at you tends to become your ultimate decision, and here the ad seemed to shout out to me – “I can help you with your hair at least”. Next thing I know, I was at a shop, buying the hair gel. I sped home and without caring to read the instructions, I slathered it on in dollops. Nervousness does that to you – either you act brave or the bravado is a mere act of stupidity, which you realize only after it’s too late. So only after I had applied the gel and tried to use my comb, did I realize that the comb wouldn’t move an inch. On checking my watch, I realized that I had to leave for my date right away! Too late to correct the wrong now; I quickly grabbed my cap and rushed to meet my girl.

I knew, as long as the cap was on, my mess was “covered”. But a cap doesn’t stay on forever, not on a date. You never realize when the cap is off, and when her hands get in your hair, and when a disgusted “ewww” fills your ears and the room, and when the girl rushes to the washroom and when the date ends in a disaster!

There is a reason I shaved my head and swore to never watch commercials ever again!

Mysore Tales - I

Pink Floyd, Vodka and now, Chuck Palahniuk.

We all are addicts and we keep looking for potential in other people. We want them to be worse than us or at least as drowned as us, in our similar addictions. If not, we spread the same.

Virus© and I are victims to the same dope – music, vodka, misery and Chuck Palahniuk.

******

Mysore was on my mind for quite sometime now. Jodhpur and Rourkela had given me a brief notion on the northern and north-eastern life of India respectively, and though, the beautiful Shillong and Leh Ladakh are still to be explored, the empty pockets and lack of a proper plan had made me look towards the South. Mysore easily seemed the best bet; with an online friend inviting time and again for a nice session of vodka and Floyd, I just packed my bags and left for the promised temptations.

The train journey to Bangalore was quite uneventful this time. Shantaram and camera remained my best company. Sajid, a good friend of Sundar, happily picked me up from the station. A good shower, excellent food and cheap milkshakes later, I left for Mysore. I was told the road trip will be really beautiful and the amazing snaps do prove the tale.

Getting down at Mysore, I made my never-met-never-seen-friend, Virus, come to pick me up at the bus station. The tired, exhausted and Infy-cted person gathered all his strength and happily traveled a good 20 odd kilometers to collect me. The welcome began with an exchange of the friendliest and the most romantic words – “Aa gayaa chutiye!” The adventure began.

Knowing Virus© :

You curse Mysore, Virus likes you. You curse Infy, Virus loves you. We see Dil Chahta Hai posters on some walls and I say that your Mysore just released a decade old movie and he says, “That’s the fucked up city of Mysore for you”. Then we pass Purple Haze, “We get wasted here” he says and why not your house I ask. “We continue there” satisfies me as an answer.

Virus© and the ATMs:

Our first stop before the “big night out” was at an ATM. The ATMs at Mysore do not function for Virus. “Infy manages these ATMs”, Virus feeds me. No wonder they suck, I say. You curse Mysore, Virus likes you. You curse Infy, Virus loves you. In all those 3 days, whenever Virus stood before an “Infy-managed” ATM, it never worked.

Meet the people:

Chaitanya and Virus have been buddies since their school days. Back then they cursed their schools, now they curse Infy. Time moves on, people change, things to curse change, but the curses remain the same. When I entered their abode, there was no electricity. Chaitanya and me exchanged “hello” throwing torch-lights at each other. Then there was another roommate – Surendra aka Surya, another old friend of Virus. I do not know their subject of curses before, it is Infy now, is all I know.

But it was a while before he entered the scene. Till then, time was spent cursing him. An hour later, Surya came with money and some bad news – “Even they are coming”. Hurl of abuses and near death violence later, we locked the doors, got on the bikes and headed for the pub. On our way Virus came up with “Let’s get some stuff for us when we get home”, and I said oh yeah! Old Monk and some cola were the only available options. So Virus and I went back to the room but since the other two had carried the keys to the room, we were forced to keep the bottles outside. Hiding the booze behind the garbage bin was Virus’ brilliant idea.

The binge:

Purple Haze had stopped serving drinks by the time we reached there. Mysore closes by 11 pm but after lot of persuasion, we were given our respective pints. Mysore sucks. You curse Mysore, Virus likes you. But we had entertainment at the pub in the form of partly-stoned and badly drunk English – who turned out to be an employee of Infy. He was rated as an embarrassment to the British community. And Infy places such guys, I ask. You curse Infy, Virus loves you.

An attempt at getting physical with one of the females at our table, a big smacking kiss to his roommate, an attempt to play with the wrong “instruments” in public were reasons strong enough for the management to show him out of the pub and slap him some fine.

A decent dinner later, we headed for home. I introduced Virus to Blackfield and we opened Old Monk. Weirdly, no one was in much of a mood to go crazy. So the rum lay aside while we discussed music. Then Floyd started playing and I suggested we raise a toast to them. We filled half our glasses and cheered for bottoms-up. I said let’s do this one more time. It went on for three more times till our noses and throat hurt. It didn’t take time; ten minutes later, the world became a blur and there remained no sense in the talk that followed. The proceedings of the night cannot be further disclosed due to one main reason – we do not remember what happened. I do remember talking to some random friend of Virus at 3 am, then calling Red at 3.15 am. The last memories of the night to me are of someone heading for the sink and myself, crashing onto the bed. Day one ended as planned!

The mornings after are never sweet. The numb day that followed shall be continued in the next part. Stay tuned.

"Stone"d

You wake up to a mild irritation in your stomach and think it'll pass by in no time. You head to the loo and next thing you know, you can barely stand. One scream follows another and you crash out of there and head straight for the bed. All you can do is scream helplessly! You try to reach for the telephone in the other room but it's quite pointless as you just can't move. You wait for help to arrive. A scared grand-mom sees you in that state and dials home. Ten minutes, while you are waiting for your folks to arrive with a doctor, you spend time scaring your grandma worse with your record breaking, agonizing shreiks , your "oh fuck"s and "oh shit"s, your beating of the wall, the bed, the ground, the tearing up of a pillow and destroying virtually everything that you can grab hold of and suddenly you realize that your granny could get a blind hit from you and you push her away and make her go to the other room. Parents arrive with no doctor(s) and the curses are rising with every second. You look somewhere away and somehow that face appears and you reach out to her but she just stands there and smiles away. You break into a crazy laughter and "that's the best I can do to stop from crying" is what you tell the horrified audience. A third call to the doc later, he arrives in his pajamas and tells you it's a kidney stone. He makes the injection and tells you, it'll hurt a bit so you need to bear it. You let the needle prick you almost artistically, and in no time one pain replaces the other - now you are screaming for the leg. "Yes it will hurt a bit, I told you", says the doc. "If you want, I can put you to sleep", he says and you shout pronto. New needle, new liquid, other half of the butt - everything's new now, everything is something else, everything is going to be new - even the pain - but he doesn't tell you that. You just roll over on the other side and the needle does it's job. "Even this will hurt a bit", he says after he disposes off the injection. New scream for the new pain for the new leg! Everything's new, everything is different, but everything is added to the original. Slowly the world starts becoming a blur, the words stop making sense, a worried brother enters the room, questions like, "How are you feeling now and how is everything with you" are asked to the wrong person; then while you are talking, you abruptly start humming Blackfield and just like that, doze off to sleep. Two hours later, the pain has subsided and you see different set of people around you - everything is new, everyone is different, every situation is different, everything changes. Pain is gone, the medicines have killed the insomnia; tea, eggs, potatoes, beef, cakes, spinach are banned for months; beer is still not a legal drink at your place, so you're forced to gulp down barley water (beer is made from barley doesn't allow it's entry in your home), the 8 pills, 3 times a day make you pee every 15 minutes and perenially put you to sleep; but try forcing a "sleep-hater" to sleep for more than 20 hrs! All in all, calmer days, full of much needed rest! All projects on the hold, hope the clients stay patient; if not, you curse them with kidney stone for life! Go help yourself!

Let The World Be...

World peace is our most destructive dream. It's the chase of this foolish dream that's creating all this restlessness, confusion and chaos. It's a dream that man should stop promoting or selling. The sooner, the better for mankind. Peace!

A Short Story

(An article I had to submit somewhere. I hope it came out well. I enjoyed writing it anyway.)

***

An Event That Moved Me

Mirror doesn’t reflect a pretty face. But in this world of pretense, it’s the closest to truth one can ever get. When you are filled with guilt, all you see in that mirror is a reflection of history that you want to escape; the permanent scars of shame that cram and almost disfigure your face.

Hence, the night proves to be a welcome dark; a natural blind from this condemning world. It’s a hide from those probing eyes; an escape from the day; a blanket from the harsh sun so the heat doesn’t burn the skin. But soon the cold silence puts me to sleep. Sleep is an escape for some. It’s also a torture for many. It helps the nightmares to invade my room and I wake up screaming, almost gasping for breath. Then her soothing hand touches my skin and her warm cuddle tries to comfort me. I lay my head in her arms and she places a kiss on my cheeks, “It wasn’t your fault”, she claims. I smile. Her words don’t make things better for me, they won’t change a thing; but there is never a use arguing over the same matter every night and she, my beautiful wife, will never put me in the wrong.

Mirror reflects a pretty face. It helps you hide that scar so the world sees the face that you intend to portray. It helps you in showing the world only that side of the truth that you are willing to expose. It’s the closest to your truth that they can ever get.

***

It always looks like every other day before you find its name in the books of history. The lull before a storm, the calm before all hell breaks loose – the silence that prevails, tends to blind you from seeing the oncoming chaos!

So it was like just another afternoon that day. Zakir and I were strolling in one of those small lanes of Byculla. The summer sun shone brightly and we were waiting for the rains. The sun-filled sky deceived us into believing that the dark clouds were a long way away. If only we could predict the future, we could’ve changed the today.

Zakir Ali Beig - my neighbour, my brother, my security blanket. Zakir - your ideal son. Zakir - your friend in need. Zakir – your God in flesh and bones. Everyone loved Zakir. Just a year elder to me but I felt really tiny before him. Growing up in his shadows, I tried to breathe in as much of Zakir as possible. It’s not about how much of the idea you are filled with, but it’s how much of that idea you have become. Zakir was an idea and we were just dreamers.

We were loitering around the BIT chawls when it happened. Rush of footsteps, smell of fire, crash of shops; within ten minutes we were the helpless audience to a cinema of mayhem and destruction. There never was a warning or we never heard one. The houses burnt in the background and a group of people rushed in our direction. I tried to run but Zakir stopped me – the only mistake he ever committed. Then, just like that, without the rise of the curtains, the drama began, and Zakir and I became a part of it even before we knew our roles.

The blow was hard. When my head hit the dirt, it felt like a million pins were being jabbed in my head. The bleeding was profuse, the pain was agonizing; “Kill me”, I prayed in my head, but death isn’t always your dream-come-to-life. It embraces you just when you start dieing to live. Otherwise, it just keeps playing with you.

In that blurry moment of confusion and intense fear, I looked at Zakir. He was held down by the power of a sword, its blade piercing his skin just enough to keep the blood flowing but not deep enough to kill him. “Your name kid”, someone demanded from me as he drove his sword and fixed me to the ground. Words aren’t your best friend, not when a sword is sticking to your throat. “Amir” I intended and “A.. A..” was all that I could manage. “Amardeep and Zakir. He is Amardeep. Zakir is me.” I heard Zakir’s voice rise sternly above all the maddening chaos. When fear fills you, you become a machine, you cannot think, all you do is observe the world and store it in your memory, so it can haunt you as long as you live. “You? Zakir? And him? Hindu?” The guy holding me down asked Zakir. “Yes”, he said firmly. The day we learn to accept death as a fact of life, we overcome fear. “Good. Kill him.” The man holding me down ordered the one, standing over my helpless God. Zakir smiled at me. Zakir – my safety blanket. Zakir – my life. Zakir – now dead.

As the violent feet moved away, I noticed Zakir’s lifeless body. His head lay besides it, not a part of it anymore, his eyes still focused on me, the smile on his face undisturbed and I could almost hear his voice saying, “You are safe now Amirjaan”.

Lock the doors, switch on that burglar alarm and go to bed. Chances are you will see the morning sun. Chances are the locks, alarms and every other security devices will protect you from the night. Or sometimes everything fails. Nothing works; or in spite of it all, the night enters your home, your room and fills your life.

Dad.... Where is your car?

It’s been two and a half years now since I’ve driven a car. I don’t remember the exact date of driving a car for the last time, but I remember those last moments, after which my “driving career” became a history.

It was hot everywhere that day, on the streets, inside the car and this heat was burning me. It was 5.30 pm already and I was driving home my family from Dadar to Vile Parle and we had to reach home before 5.30 pm "at any cost" as my mom had put it. This wasn’t the fastest I’d driven, in my short stint as a driver, but I really had tried my bit. Okay! Not everyone is comfortable overtaking a vehicle on a highway, at least not when you have a screaming brother criticizing your every single move! So it had taken me about an hour to make the distance from Dadar to Vile Parle, (an experienced driver takes about 30 minutes, but please mark the word “experienced” here). So I am a safe driver and saw to it that my inexperience didn’t cost any losses to my family, what’s wrong with that? But some people are born to be blamed for everything they do or even for everything they don’t do. So we had nearly reached home and I just had to make one final turn, but the traffic was thick and I let a few cars to pass by. Irritated by this, my brother resumed to his yelling, “Do you realize you are the cause of traffic here? Stop just waiting for things to happen and move. This way, we will never reach home.” I really wanted to staple his mouth shut somehow. Then suddenly “Move! Move! Move!” filled the air and I just fired the engine and in the confusion and fury that arose in the car and my head, I couldn't notice the rickshaw to my left and took a sharp turn. The result – there remains a large scratch on the car – the scars of my failure – an answer to everyone who questions my dad “why doesn’t he drive?”

***

It was my dad who forced me into a driving school as soon as I turned 18. But since we had just got a new car back then, I wasn’t allowed to drive the same. I guess its novelty never wore off even after three years as my dad then refused to hand me over the car. His reason being, “Now you have lost the touch, so go join a driving school first before you touch my car”. I was quite stubborn on not joining a driving school again and my dad, was stubborn on not giving me a chance to touch his car. My uncle, who had come to stay with us for a couple of weeks took up the matter in his own hands and started training me at nights, after he came home from work. I enjoyed learning under him and at the end of our very first “session”, he concluded that there’s nothing wrong with my driving and I can go on my own. But that never convinced my dad. Three days later my uncle started taking me on long drives and we drove as long as 50 kms one way. A week later, with my uncle as my instructor, I took my family to Pune and back. Uncle had given me just one piece of advice, “Let him scream, you focus on your driving.” It was the best fun with driving I’ve ever had. I really enjoyed myself that day. My dad went on howling, while I kept on driving. Finally, after 3 hrs, my dad realized, all the shouting was of no use and I wasn’t going to stop anyway. Peace finally!

But it had to end someday. My uncle moved out and it was a struggle after that to get the car on the road again by myself, as my dad would plainly say “NO”! But with mom’s support, I did steal out the car a few times, but the “homecomings” were never sweet. The lectures were getting impossible to deal with and I was finding it really hard to hold back my temper. Finally it happened. I just threw away the keys and “this is the last time I touch your car” came out of my mouth – I think I saw my dad celebrate the moment. He walked away quietly and started enjoying the blasted music that he plays on his headphones. A couple of times after that day, I did drive but it was just for 5 minutes at most as screams again filled the car and I was finding it impossible to keep my calm. And then the “scratchy” moment happened and I completely gave up.

I really feel like shouting out someday that I miss driving, I loved it; the moment I touched that steering wheel, I felt like I owned the world, it was bliss. But somehow these shouts get lost in my head. I don’t see a point in raising a fight.

We aim for everything and we just feel everything is rightfully ours, disappointment strikes when we start feeling we own the world. The truth is we don’t.

I cannot stand it, when anyone handles my guitar carelessly or just picks it up without asking me. A close friend of mine, had had it from me for doing so and I had told him, never to touch it ever again without asking me. I then understood my dad, and what it must be like for him, when handing over his car-keys to a newbie or to a person who doesn’t know how to drive. Well, I have the blessed bike and it’s a sexy machine. I completely adore it. But finding satisfaction is one thing, forcing yourself to stay satisfied is another. Denial is a fact that our pride doesn’t let us embrace. Hence, we drive ourselves in a world of illusions. I really question, are we so proud to handle the truth. Am I so proud?

The Laughing Dolls

Have you noticed the laughing dolls? They are everywhere - on the streets, at your work, in the restaurants; even when you go home, they are there in your room, on the internet. Take a walk, step outside your home, hit the road; do you see that gathering of jesters there, the merry men surrounding the performers? Rush there; go on, it’s not that far from you. Don’t we all need entertainment my friend? Don’t we eventually start living for it? Go ahead, stand in the crowd; watch the jokers; do they ever realize when they end up becoming the joke themselves? Scramble around for room, make a space for yourself; trying to hide yourself in the small crowd of ten millions, are you? Trying to play unnoticed? You can’t get lost really, not from them. Need some air? Go on, breathe, fill your lungs, you’ll feel the need for it later.

Oh, by the way, is the space where you stand, getting smaller now? Are the bodies coming too close too fast? Is the crowd crushing you yet? Don’t worry; death is still your distant dream. Did I tell you to fill your lungs with air yet?

Make some room for your gaze now, look across the street. Notice the celebrations taking place. Do you see those arms carrying their hero? Do you feel their joy? That is you in some other place, some other time. Do you feel them lifting you up? Do you feel the rise? Listen as they cheer for you. Do you feel like a hero? There they go, hailing you. They are worshipping their hero. They are worshipping you. Once they laughed with you, now they laugh at you. Do you see them pointing their finger at you? Do you see them accusing you, condemning you? "Just because you accept your wrongs doesn't mean you are forgiven".

Now do you see that photograph they hold? That's a picture of you. It's all faded now; see them tear it apart and burn it to ashes. Do you see that rape across the street? Do you hear those screams? Do you feel the struggle? Do you feel the helplessness? Do you notice that mocking glare? Are you scarred yet? Do you feel the madness around you? Do you want to scream? Go ahead. But wait, can you? Haven’t you felt that gag yet? Make space, run away. Try doing that without your limbs. Are you maimed yet? Do you feel mutated and fucked now? Are they getting too close? Did you save your breath? Choking, are you? Do you feel the push now? Do you feel the lonesome fall? The crash isn’t far away now, is it? Yes, now you see the happy dolls mocking you. Do you feel free now?

Coma

We all need to wake up from our own personal coma.

Food For Thought? Just some fuckin' chaos!

Warning: This is not meant to be deep. If you are looking for some deep shit kindly get outta here. If you expect anything deeper than a kid’s swimming pool on this blog, you are sadly mistaken my friend.

And I blame Kacky for this post, as a weird statement in his mail made me stop my work-out and forced me to think!

*******

“Things we own, end up owning us” – Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club)

The other day Tanmay was told a few things:
1. People from the top notch companies are looking for stress-relief. If they are working in top companies then they shouldn’t be stressed. Is it the stress to maintain the position at the top? Maybe.
2. A man traveling by bus dreams that one day he will be rich enough to travel by a BMW. One day he achieves that dream and buys one BMW. The next day a cyclist crashes against his car and there are scratches all over the rich BMW. The man is upset. Reason - the scratch on the car is not only on the car but it’s also on his self.
3. A man can be happy traveling in a bus and he can, at the same time, be upset and tensed while traveling by a plane.

We maintain our car, like we maintain our house, like we maintain our body, our health. All our life we are busy maintaining stuff that eventually will die, disappear, won’t be a part of this superficial world. So why take the trouble? Probably, so that while we still own it (or it still owns us as we fail to distinguish ourselves from the same), it stays in good shape. So basically, although it is quite apart from “us”, it is still a part of “us”.

Now some school of thoughts say that everything is finally one. We are all one. Some say it’s all infinite. Some say the end quotient is null (positive and negative theory). Now this is confusing. I somehow don’t believe in the positive negative theory as I don’t believe that any action can be judged as positive or negative. So I won’t waste my thoughts on that. But if I was to believe in the universe being one, then there is a problem in my head.

The car and I are two distinct objects, just like the house and me, just like my body and me. So if my body isn’t me, then what is me? Don’t give me the crap “soul”. I know it’s probably the “soul” but how? What if I say, maintain the soul by keeping it pure. Now I don’t believe in purity again as when I say “keep it pure” then it will just mean I’m going back to the positive and negative theory that I don’t believe in.

There is a belief that I can’t justify, we hold all the answers within us, we hold all the information and it is all very obvious to us, in fact it is so obvious that we ignore it all the time.

Give me a name and I’m defined in this world. Like my parents gave me a name and I’m known by that name to them. At blogger, I decided to choose my identity as another brick in the wall and bloggers know me by this name. So finally it is just some random name which means nothing. So strip me off my name, and everything that is so superficially “mine” and what gets left of me is me. But how do I do it? So who exactly am I? What exactly is me? Unfortunately, I’m not intelligent enough to figure this out or maybe the answers are all staring in my face and am not able to read them!

Just felt like talking!

Have nothing much to do and I really feel like talking right now but sadly there's not too many people left to call so here I go on to make you suffer with this shit. It's going to be a garbage of a post, I can sense it, but am sure am gonna publish this no matter what. So it's your last chance to back off, if you decide to stay on and read this, just don't blame me. I kid you not, there have been incidences in the past when people have actually called me from the US and swore at me for typing out garbage and making them read the same, which not only wasted their time but also corrupted their intellect (or so they claim).

It's not that I have a lot to talk about too you know, weirdly there are not too many thoughts that are haunting me these days; also the chaos that made my life miserable sometime back (and which prevailed for quite a long span of time) has finally calmed itself and the world seems a saner place now. So there's not much that's left to discuss with the world too. I would've called you but then what could I have possibly talked about? You don't wanna know bout my life as it's as still as it was yesterday and I don't mind knowing bout yours but you won't discuss it; so why waste each other's time at all, anyway we hardly have any time left with us anymore. Apart from that, I don't give a fuck about this nation anymore, and I'm pretty much ignorant about world politics or even national politics for that matter; these things never interested me anyway. I would love to talk on music but again I've kind of moved away from it a bit, reserved myself to a few selected bands and I've shunned the others from my world. Also, after those few whom I loved discussing music with, have got too involved in their lives, the interest is slightly fading away. I love movies and am watching quite a few weird flicks these days, but there are just two kinds of people I know - one who have watched too many movies and so they won't talk to me about them, as I wouldn't have watched the second flick that they would talk about. And then there are others who never watch movies - the "in-betweens" like me are again left alone then. It's the same story with books too. 

Someone said that you cannot create friends at work and I nod to that. I don't know why, but you just can't. I tried to commit this mistake of trying to get too friendly with a few colleagues and they felt I don't have a life as I was trying to get too involved in theirs. Alright folks, so I don't have a life, is it a crime? And if I'm just trying to be friends with you, you don't have to give me that look, it's not necessary, it's not called for, am not pushing it, so yes you may fuck off! Thank you! 

Yeah, home is turning out to be a better place these days, sleep also has become my new friend and since Mumbai has started getting colder (trust me it's getting cold here), I have started spending more time under the blanket. 

Work wise life is kind of stable and still not stable; however it's definitely not unstable anymore. I settled at my new job pretty fast, just in a week's time I felt at home and I'm enjoying the place even after 3 months, but then there are issues which are making me think twice about continuing, but I guess I need to hang in here as long as I can, as it's important for me to stick to a place for more than 3 months at least once in these 2 years that I've been working now. 

For those who keep updates, my hair is growing and I don't intend to shave it off till the end of this year - so much for excitement, but I really need to shave my beard man! Been more than 3 weeks and I'm feeling itchy now. 

Now I feel like raising some issues of national interest which nearly "rocked" the nation sometime back.

1. India losing a test match due to bad umpiring. It was disastrous you see. Entire Mumbai went outta water for 3 straight days and no one gave a fuck bout it but the great Indian cricket team losing only and only because of harsh umpiring needed immediate attention. 

2. Harbhajan Singh accused of racism. He called Symonds "monkey". Symonds was deeply offended. Later on Sachin Tendulkar took control of the matter and told the press that Harbhajan is no stupid cunt that he will go on to pass a racist comment, he just said "Maa ki.." which is a very common bad word used throughout the world, just in different languages, and which only is aimed at the other person's mother. Symonds was a happy man that Harbhajan only swore at his (Symonds') mother and not his race. There were rumours that on hearing this, Symonds' mother then hugged Harbhajan and told him to watch his tongue in future. Harbhajan laughingly replied, "Saala.. iske maa ki.. " €œand everyone laughed! (Citation needed)

3. Saurav Ganguly and Rahul Dravid were left out of the one-day squad by the newly appointed skipper M. Dhoni who was always praised by these two players. There were some uprisings in Bengal and Karnataka when this decision took place, but fortunately 90% of police force have their families based in Jharkhand and a-place-like-Jharkhand (Mumbai for the rest), so they were able to handle the situation very well. 

4. British PM wants knighthood for Sachin Tendulkar. Now some news reporter approached me asking for my comments on the same and my reply was simple - "So if Mr. Sachin becomes Sir Sachin tomorrow, will I get good roads? Will I get to travel in a less-crowded train? Will I get clean water to drink at work? Will they cover all those open drains? Will I get to see clean drains and toilets on the streets, even thrash cans and will I see clean roads and will that lead to punishing of those fuckers who keep spitting and dirtying this place? If the answer is a "no" then let them endow knighthood, dayhood, little-red-riding-hood, robinhood or whatever other hood on him, I don't give a fuck as it won't improve my life even a tiny bit and it won't make even 0.0001% difference in anyone's but Sachin's family's life!" Weirdly my comment never got published in the newspaper. 

Phew! There i€™s so much to still gab about but somehow I'€™m now bored and feeling done and satisfied after barking so much. So much for adding to the noise folks, will catch ya soon! Kindly stay tuned! Bless y'€™all!

Travelogue: Part 2

Day 03: Osian on bike!

After some 3 million odd years I slept for 8 hours that day and woke up with a clear head. I was looking forward to the day as I was finally going to travel around Jodhpur. I checked the weather and considering Div's warning when I'd asked her a simple question while I packed my clothes, "Should I carry a sweater" with a reply "Sure! If you plan to kill yourself", I wasn't sure of the kind of clothes to put on. Black was decided against and I thought full-sleeves will serve the purpose as we were to go around Jodhpur on a bike in the desert sun. The advice to apply sunscreen and lip-balm were generally mocked and ridiculed and soon I was to pay the price for it. Div stood outside her hostel gate all covered in Kacky's clothes (don't get me wrong, it was the need of the hour, trust me). We had a breakfast first where Div enjoyed the jalebis for the first time apparently and tried to feed me the spicy mirchi-vada which I wisely avoided. (I find it difficult to eat spicy food due to some medical reasons best never discussed. ) Then we rented a bike (I chose Hero Honda over Enfield saving Rs.200 per day - though I was cursing this decision at first, it was to be a wise one at the end of the trip). 

We started for a place called Osian. Temple, sand-dunes and Cafe Osian were the suggested places to visit there. All set, I handed over my cam to Div and wearing a real funny helmet that came along with the bike (it was as strong as Kacky's cap that Div wore but since I didn't have one to wear, I chose the helmet), and we rode off. 

Cam and pictures: Now it's weird that Div and I have many a similar traits - the art of clicking pictures of the most non-picturesque objects being one of them. Everyone will click what is pleasing to eyes (mountains and all) but then there are things like a cow crossing a road, a pig fighting it's way out of a garbage dump or an open barren road will always be ignored. Somehow we both find it interesting and I came to know of this only after I checked the brilliant shots that Divi had covered. So I was happy to let her have the camera for the rest of the stay at Jodhpur. 

We reached Osian after some two hours. In between we did seek directions as we thought we were lost - the road seemed too straight for too long to some people and there were no direction boards anywhere for the others. Also, in between we stopped over briefly in front of a village school where the kids kept on looking at us and so did their teacher as we clicked a few photographs and had some water. 

Incident of the stupid-cows: I like cows. It's the best meat I've ever eaten. I hate milk but curd, yogurt and milkshakes are always relished. But when am driving at a speed of 60 kmph (Jodhpur's effect on me maybe but I never enjoy riding fast anyway), when a cow just blocks your way and keeps staring at you to dare you to pass her, you really feel like pushing her outta your way, except you can't. It's not Sukritically and Divically possible at least. So we had to wait patiently for them to cross-over an otherwise empty highway. Now there were incidences when these cows used to act like those confused "crossers" you see on the streets - who do not quite know whether to step back or run across when they see the oncoming vehicle and finally, they end up confusing the driver and leading to his crash while they safely cross the road, which is now clear, thanks to the crash in the middle of the street, and then these sinful "crossers" will go home and tell their family how rash the youngsters drive these days! With people, I understand their right to act confused and stupid as we are given this blessed power to think. But cows don't possess this power or so I believe. They just act as per their instincts. But just that day they were acting as if they were able to think. I think the desert sun was affecting them too. They just irritated the hell outta me that day!

The temple at Osian was beautiful. The mirrored walls and terrific architecture combined with almost no people and clean surroundings (which are a rarity otherwise) made it a peaceful experience. The sand-dunes could be seen from the temple and the reason for calling Jodhpur a blue-city was now becoming clear. But it was only when I saw the city from Meharangarh fort that it became evident to me. We waited at the temple for some twenty-thirty minutes. The hot desert sun and the dryness in the air were now doing their wonders on my skin. I started feeling it on my fingers first and then as I carefully looked at my arms, I realised every part of exposed skin was sun burnt. As they say, focus on pain and you'll feel the hurt - now that I saw the dark spots, I started feeling the burns. The lips now started hurting and suddenly I was desperate for water. The bottle got empty in no time and we needed more water. The sand-dunes were still to be seen and Cafe Osian was to be our resting place. We had to reach there as soon as possible. So we got 2 litres of water and set off towards the dunes. Just 15 minutes later we saw two dead animals on otherwise empty streets. This and it was 1.30 pm and the desert wasn't getting any colder, so we wisely dropped the idea and started back to the hostel. Though we did catch a glimpse of the sand-dunes, it was to be the last picture that was to be shot that day as Div fell asleep in no time. Had it not been for the "Pulsar-effect", her sleep went almost undisturbed throughout. 

The Pulsar-effect: Now I am used to driving a Bajaj Pulsar for 2 years now and it's gears are exactly opposite to Hero Honda's. While for Pulsar you push the lever down to increase the gears, you do the exact opposite by pressing the lever upwards to increase the gears in Hero Honda. So when, by mistake, I used to gun the engine and lower the gear, the jerk the rider got was awakening indeed! This was termed as the "Pulsar-effect". On arriving at Mumbai, when I rode the Pulsar, I experienced the "Hero Honda-effect" 

So when Ms. Divya awoke in between, I asked her a question which left us both umm.. scared.. no alert, "Do you think we are lost? Cause none of the direction signs show a way back to Jodhpur and the road just doesn't look familiar". We were desperate to ask for directions but there was just no one on the road and I just kept seeing dead animals everywhere. The sun was horrible but that was least of my problems back then. I had to know if we were going the right way as even the bike was making some weird noise and we were just standing on a straight-barren expanse with no life around. We decided to keep moving though and after some twenty minutes we finally found a broken-down truck getting repaired by a couple of people. We asked them the direction and fortunately for us we weren't too far away from the right way. I had to take a breather as I had got a bit tensed myself. After finishing a bottle of water, we were off towards the city. We filled our stomachs and then started for the hostel. 

We were a bit disappointed that we couldn't quite visit the much-hyped Cafe Osian but later on we got the news that it was some evil prank played on us by one of Divi's friends who'd wanted us to go and suffer at the Cafe - as it is apparently a strictly to-be-avoided Cafe.

I headed straight for a shower and slept a calm sleep. Then Div came to the guest house and we tried to watch a movie but got bored and started roaming around the campus. I met a couple of bloggers but I was still to meet my so-called cousin Ms. Preeti. Sometime later Kacky joined us. Then we had a nice talkative dinner and then we departed to our rooms. My plans of development of the football field for its optimum utilisation were again ignored by everyone! But that fortunately didn't affect my sleep and I waited the next day as we were to visit quite a few places the next day!

(to be continued...)

Travelogue: Part 1

(Mumbai - Jodhpur - Delhi - Rourkela - Bhubhaneshwar - Puri)

Rewind. Edit. Play.

It was September 5, 2007 and I was utterly bored at home. Raghu comes online and asks me if I can visit him at Rourkela sometime later in October. I say yes without giving it a second thought. Sometime later Divya comes online and I tell her of my plans to go to Rourkela to meet Raghu. She blackmails me into coming to Jodhpur. Without giving it another thought I agree to it. I straight away check the trains and find that there's no train that goes directly from Jodhpur to Rourkela. Delhi becomes inevitable. Red, Ankita, Simrita and Prerna at Delhi are immediately contacted so they make provisions for my stopover at Delhi.

About 3 days later, after finalising the dates with everyone, I go on to book the tickets and inform my parents that I'm off to Jodhpur on the 1st of October. Mom and dad had by then stopped reacting to my weird ideas, it was only on the 10th, when the courier guy came to deliver the tickets, did mom freak out. By then I was trying to stop reacting to mom's over-protective talks.

Day 1: Peace and sleep cometh!

I looked for seat number 24 and nicely rested there. My dear scared mom had forced my dad to drop me at the station. My dad suddenly entered that, "God I can't believe my little boy (aged 24) is going to travel alone" phase and he came with me inside the train to see that I was seated properly. A friendly family occupied the adjoining berths. My dad told them that I was traveling alone for the first time and they should look after me in case I needed anything. I gave them a long sweet smile and assured my dad that I will be fine. As the train left, the family tried to indulge into a conversation with me and the embarrassed me tried to keep my cool and just gave them direct answers so no further questions were put. A relieving "hmph" later the family started enjoying their chow while I started with Chuck Palahniuk's "Diary". The TC came and the fun began.

I tell you folks, there is a reason my mom is so worried about me and sending me out on my own. You see, I fail to see. I mean I'm just a pathetic observer. I claim to become an artist someday and I do not observe well. Yes some dreams will forever be, but that's not the point here, I wanted to get out of the house and go on my own so that I learn to take up the responsibility for at least myself. I was armed with 6000 bucks for my disposal and my bank account had just 1000 bucks above the minimum balance needed and so my limit was 7000 bucks for 13 days and I thought that was going to be quite a challenge since I intended to travel a lot in these 13 days and I was to come out as a winner! Fuck you if you don't appreciate that.

So as I was saying, the TC came in and asked for the ticket, I obeyed him and he told me I was on the wrong seat. "The ticket says 24 and I am on seat number 24", I said. "Alright Mr. Nagraj, I'll help you read your ticket. The coloumn which is named "Age" specifies your age and the coloumn which is named "Seat No." specifies your seat number. So you are 24 years old and your seat number is 42. Got it?" I thanked him for educating me and also embarrassing me for the second time in just 30 minutes and quietly walked to my correct seat. But the TC was a jovial fellow and he just patted on my back saying no problem and if I need anything he can just ask for it. I thanked him and was happy to see that there was no one seating besides me and also there was no one to be on the adjoining berths for the rest of the journey! I opened my black diary and started writing now that I had complete privacy. I wrote till emotions tired me out and I nicely went off to sleep, not even caring to place an order for dinner. I woke up sometime during midnight and had a small snack of cupcake and chivda that my mom had packed for me. Then again I got lost in a peaceful slumber after some million years. It was bliss!

Day 2: I meet Divi!

Since it was 6.30 am, Divi and Kacky, thought I am grown up enough to find my way on my own to their hostel where they had made provisions for me at the guest house.

Story of the guest house: I was booked under the name of Sukrit Nagarajan since I was to play a cousin to a certain Ms. Preeti Sunderarajan. My address was mysteriously a Delhi address which weirdly matched Kacky's address and still had my real telephone number. I am prohibited from elucidating further on this matter to "the outsiders". Reference to an "outsider" in this post and any other post related to the present topic would mean any other person who is not Divi or Kacky.

So I reached Jodhpur and after settling at Rs.80 with the auto-rickshaw driver (Divi said they looted me while I heard someone say "good deal dude") to take me to the university I was on my way. Now believe me, Jodhpur autos travel at the maximum speed of 20 kmph and it's either the incapacity of the autos to travel faster than that or it's the fear of the road that keeps them going beyond this speed. It's 'killingly' frustrating as it takes more than half an hour to reach a distance that a bicycle can cover in 15 minutes max!

I reached NLU safely (Yeah! You can't get killed at a speed of 20 kmph!) and there was Divi, all geared up to head for classes. It was hard to believe that they hadn't declared a holiday on my arrival there, or even arranged a nice strip-show, or even a decent daaru-party at the hostel! But I gulped down the insult as I was just too happy to meet my sistaah and after "I can't believe I'm here" and "Even I can't believe you are here" were exchanged between us, the auto-waala asked if we intended to go further towards the guest house or just stay there exchanging surprised-but-happy glances. We decided to head to the guest house as Div was getting late for her class and I was to have company later in the day at the guest house**.

**Unfortunately, this was the funniest part of the trip and the previously mentioned censor board has asked me to edit elucidating on this matter too, before "the outsiders"!

I was to have the guest house for myself for sometime and was to meet Div at the mess in 2 hrs time, so I made a list of things to do in that time and tried to re-build my dilapidating muscles by working out in the room itself (the gym was closed). Then a refreshing shower later I went on to meet Div and Kacky at the mess and then to relish my omelet served for breakfast. Happy that I got an egg-meal in the morning itself, Div headed for her class while I started for my room. By the time I woke up, the sun had already begun to set and Div's classes had ended so I went out to meet her. I was carrying the hopes of my dear sis introducing me to AT LEAST one hot chick during that time but I had to wait for 2 whole days before she even introduced me to another chick!

The rest of the day was spent in roaming around the campus and eating at a nearby restaurant. Many interesting places were shown to me around the campus and no one co-operated with me when I asked for company to enter these places. It was unfair! All I ever asked was to see the football field properly, but people just won't give me company! Then I had some brilliant proposals for the optimum utilisation of the football field but no one seemed to care much bout it and just dismissed it as another one of my crazy ideas! Eventually I gave up convincing people and quietly departed to my room. I was dying for the next day to begin as it was planned to be a "Divi-Suk" day!

(to be continued..)

Somewhere Back In Time

Maybe I just woke up in a wrong land, I don't know really. But it's suffocating when the words you speak do not make any sense to the ears around you. You cannot relate to the beings surrounding you and there is this feeling of being disconnected from this world, this ghastly feeling of being alienated in the world you called your own sometime back. It's a shock when the people who claim to know you inside out just refuse to recognize you now. Finally it so happens that the world you dream to build or create is not something that anyone else can bear to see (or so I believe) and then these now-aliens go on to label you a fool and your dream and thoughts are mocked and ridiculed. 

Darkness is beautiful, something that I'd always adored. In darkness you have only yourself and you cannot see any of this shit that lies around you or that you are covered with. But you can feel you and that's bliss. Darkness is a natural blind of a sort and then there's no one to blame. You may keep your eyes wide open or shut them close; it doesn't matter now as what is within you, is also now around you. Isn’t that simply majestic? 

Ignorance is bliss and I have started dwelling in this bliss now. Darkness preaches it, doesn't it? It restrains the outside from maligning you, decaying you. It basically stops the dead from decay as it doesn't allow the outside to touch you. All it leaves you with is you, your own self, your head and your imagination. Now you can expand within yourself. This is your chance to grow now. Aren't we finally alone anyway? Isn't this so-called companionship a deceit anyway - just an illusion created by this dumbfuck world which strives for a shoulder to rest on and then when the world drifts in a different course, it creates an illusion of a void. It's funny how we know this and still we keep fooling ourselves by living in a make-belief world. Perhaps we are addicted to this social vision as we go on to cover ourselves with this fake security. Perhaps we are too afraid to step out of this life and enter solitude. The fear of unknown will forever haunt us. We hate change as we are unsure that we can survive the change. The fact is we all can and it is not even an issue to sail through it but we have this habit of creating noise and confusion around us and we ourselves are the creators of this disturbance, this chaos, that now engulfs us. Laziness cannot stop an inevitable change in circumstance; we may stop ourselves and procrastinate but we cannot stop the time, the life, the change.

Changing your own self and adaptation or acceptance saves the perception of hurt and misery, this waste of emotion. But we sometimes choose to stay stranded in a time that has already passed us and as a result we stretch this stubborn, non-flexible life and develop these cracks, these holes. You cannot survive in a dead world. Then there are times when you choose to step out of this already extinct time and create a new world - it's then that you are ready to bring about a change. Slowly you become the change and ultimately you become a rebel.

Rating it an escape might be someone's perception but who is anyone to judge you and your life, your change, your rebellion? It is a choice you have made to live your life, which only you can know the best as you are the one living it and not that fuckin' asshole who is sitting there and mocking you. Entering darkness is my choice as I hate to face this sun anymore. It doesn't belong to me anymore. I find peace and calm in this tunnel I've dug for myself, my own secret place, my own invisible friends, my own universe - the one that shall remain forever untouched by this crazy bitch of a world which time and again jabs those voodoo pins in me and stabs me red. Fuck you! I don't belong to you and here I go now, walking away forever from you, walking away into my unknown, into my unseen. It was good to know you but all in all you're just another.... need I say more? 

:)