daily chaos

Sewn & Silent

2011-05-24T10:50:00.000+05:30

So have you taken a box

And hidden me inside of it now

Or have you taken a vow

To always conceal it with a lie?

So have you taken a walk

A walk into a life that isn't mine anymore

So have you made your place

In a place you'd left some time before

And when someone will find the key to the door

Will it still remain unexplored?

Will we be sitting here, in our wasted lands

Counting steps just to walk out of the door

In a dream that left you tainted

Wasn't it pure to you before you left it all with me?

Wasn't it impossible for you, to discard it in a drain?

Now shall I be ashamed of the time?

And will you shamefully walk away?

Time's come in our way,

But we had time to betray

And then we chased each others' thoughts

In our broken lands

And then we killed our hopes

We'll say we lived by the plan, yeah!

Will I see you once more

In the dress you never wore

Or see us in a place we never explored

This isn't the end we know

So we scar ourselves more

In a chance to live another day

We callously walk away.

Now.

Pop Culture

2011-05-10T19:25:00.001+05:30

We all like to belong to a certain group of people. So we all form communities. We have a set of friends who listen to the same kind of music, a group of movie-goers with similar interests, a set of friends to watch football match and cheer for the same team. Generally, the group that likes similar things has to hate similar things. So you cannot be a fan of Manchester United and cheer for Barcelona. Apart from the fact that Manchester United do not know how to play football, they also belong to a certain pop group of teams whom everybody new to football has to like, cause of their "hugeness". So a person who recently gets introduced to American sitcoms, is bound to be a fan of Friends, How I Met Your Mother [of late], That 70s Show. The list goes on.

Initially, I used to think these communities are formed because not only do people like to relate to each other but also, because no one likes to feel alone in this world. If my set of friends start discussing a certain thing, I would very much like to be a part of it, so I don't feel left out. We want to fit in. We all like attention and we all like to be knowledgeable. We all like to stand out. But some people do completely the opposite to stand out, to get attention from everyone. They form the "Hate groups". You have to hate the pop culture so you get heard. These are the ones who go on to promote some "obscure stuff that is out there" and not the "regular stuff". I am not saying everyone is not genuine. But there are people who do not fit in the "pop-segment", no matter how hard they tried, they got ignored from the "pop-people" and after zillion attempts to belong, they choose the exact opposite road and end up taking the road to hatred and become wannabes. I am pretty sure I was and to quite an extent, I still am one of them. A wannabe.

When you enter a pop-group really late in your life, you tend to get ignored and you tend to be a follower and "just one of them". It quite frankly, sucks. In a big way. I know I got into these communities with the very intention to belong. A person like me, who never had a huge group of friends following him, tries to fit in to whichever group he finds close. Or so it was sometime back. So you catch on to what is the latest trend and try to follow it. But since that is already dead and done, you don't stand out and again, you get ignored as there are people in these groups, who know way more than you do. So again, you have to step out and finally, you have nowhere to go. But I needed to be heard, so what do I do? Hate everything that is pop.

It started with, I believe, cricket. Suddenly everyone was catching the cricket fever and it wasn't a "cool" thing anymore. So I switched to the next "cool" sport back then, football. Not knowing jack about the sport, I started to hang out with people who kept talking about football. But I had to hate cricket if I had to hang out with these guys. Eventually, I will realise, football wasn't fun either. After you gain enough knowledge about your "group of friends" and the game, you realise, no one knows shit and mostly, everyone is only trying to fit in. They are all dejected and rejected pieces, like you and hey, they suck too. Quite a happy moment it is, this moment of "epiphany". Sadly, this comes to you only after you've "hung your boots" and are bored by the forced love towards the game.

After a point in time, when you really start loving your work and everything and pretty much everyone else in your life seem pointless and a waste of your precious time, you readily give up on that, that you never really cared for, but were only doing it for the heck of it, to belong, to fit in. But again, I'm at a point in life where work seems drab and thoughts are taking me to dark places where I do not wish to wander, I'm trying to distract myself here and weirdly, it is the pop culture that is attracting me again. I am shamelessly following cricket and ignoring football. I am watching "How I met your mother" and not the cool "Dexter" or "House". I have no shame in admitting that I love Dido, as much as I love Iron Maiden, Pantera, In Flames and Metallica. I sincerely believe she is a brilliant musician. And this time it is fine.

The point of this post, well, it is just a reminder to self to not be an idiot and do things in life that you like and not because everyone else is doing them. It is okay to write a shitty post like this one and be happy about it. I guess I am a mushy, corny, metalhead and it's good to know that there are people around me who accept me the way I am. I am feeling grateful today, so here is a thanks to all. Yeah, now go on and make fun of me, yo! :D

Let's sleep in this trance...

2011-01-18T07:26:00.002+05:30

It feels like I've stepped in a time machine that is going to take me back to a time and space that I had longed to get away from, that I had successfully stepped out of. But I am pushing myself towards the same place, yet again. It is like entangling myself in a never-ending cycle of events that will just run round and round and finally arrive at nothing. It will go on to destroy everything that it meets, almost ruthlessly, but it won't stop. And this my friend, is at times very scary and at the same time, extremely addictive and irresistible. The energy is so strong that it keeps pulling me towards it, like a magnet, you cannot help but stick to the downfall, to my downfall and I cannot help but slide along, deliberate and conscious, like I always wanted it, always hoped for it as this is where the drama lies. This is the only stage where I shall stand and I shall get my audience and everyone shall be watching and I shall be the star of the show, so I shall be getting all the attention in the world. Things we do to get noticed, things we did as babies so people pay attention, things we do as grown-ups so we don't feel alone. Things we do as human beings so we feel wanted, so we feel important in other person's life, things we do so we can live happily in denial, denial of the facts that we tend to accept and let go off every day. How convenient, how shameful. This trance is so beautiful, that one can only experience out of the lack of proper sleep and listening to the brilliance called deftones!

Cracks

2010-08-29T10:54:00.001+05:30

... and that is when we start scarring each other

The two lovers

2010-08-08T15:20:00.001+05:30

We walk like two lost lovers

In a dark night

Hand in hand, full of sins

Grasping the moment tightly

Thinking it will make us pure

This life, we keep building

A house of lies, every night

Nail by nail

Filing in the walls, that are ready to break away

Unlike us, but like our promises and words

The slippery minds

Letting us forget the clock and the present

The past just ticks away

In a parallel universe

behind us, ahead of us

The rush of blood,

The love of fear

Let us sustain our peace

At the cost of our lives

Give it up

Give it all up

To gain what we lost

To gain what we gave up

What we once had

Our Sacrifice

2010-06-21T17:03:00.000+05:30

It's never good,

When friends alienate.

With no one to trust,

How to discriminate.

They gag your mouth.

They slit your tongue.

They tie your limbs to chair

They tell you to dance.

All you do is scream.

Just scream in your head.

The noise fills your life

It drives you insane.

They get what they want,

They sleep in your head.

A cripple, they say

Is easy to sway.

You cannot be brought down,

So you start a war.

The ego breaks down,

Now let's see you fall.

Shoot in the dark,

The darts pierce your eyes.

When we all act blind,

You can't even cry.

My bitter tongue

Keeps licking your wounds.

So condemn me now

But don't run away.

Let's join our hands

Let's jump into hell

Don't cry for me mother

We never did swell

My Right To Speak

2010-04-02T18:27:00.000+05:30

I love job interviews. I'm given a chance to speak my heart out on the favourite topic, me. I am the center of attention. Suddenly, for those few minutes, my life is important to everyone in that room. I feel like a star. Almost a celebrity. I get to spell out my life story in front of a complete stranger, in whose I eyes, I see the curiosity to know more about my life, which shall go away as soon as the interview is over, which shall go away as soon as I am not the "interviewee" anymore and he is not my interviewer. He listens intently as I speak. I have an audience who is more interested in my life than any other shit that goes on in this whole goddamned world at that point of time. It almost makes me feel special. So I go on about my career, discuss my experience with my previous employers, I get a chance to stay lost in my past. An opportunity to talk about a past, whom no one else cares about. Finally, some ears. But at times, the joy is short-lived. It happens when the interviewer realises that my stories just go on and on and he has barely got a chance to speak. Rudely, I'm interupted. "You certainly have lot of stories to tell. But can you..". Then you cut him right there saying, "Ah well, I'm not sure if it's luck, but.. " and you start with another story. That was close!

A Funeral We Celebrated

2010-03-27T11:12:00.001+05:30

There they were, sitting in a row. Nicely dressed. All good men filled with hunger. Greed and disgust lay everywhere. As the smell of money filled the room, we all were stooping to our new lows. A pack of hungry wolves, ready to pounce on their prey. Ready to pounce on each other. Ready to steal their neighbour's food. Everyone was hating everyone. Yet everyone talked about love. And all I kept thinking about was, how beautiful it would be, if only I were given the opportunity to blow everyone's head off, one by one. Slice them, chop them neatly into pieces and then burn down the whole goddamned place. What a holy mess I would create. Beautiful.

There is a new discotheque in town

2010-01-17T23:31:00.003+05:30

And it's called my room.

One blessed morning, when the sun decided to set on me, a female was invited to our house. Let's call her "The Cunt". She boasted of having Vaastushastra knowledge and decided that our place was filled with negativities. So she decided to take advantage of our Holy Gods and explained us that our home wasn't constructed right. There were some issues with the directions. Hence, there was too much inflow of negative energy from all the directions into our house. But these issues can be made right if we start trapping the positive energy at the right places. This shall help our lives in various ways. As the days passed by, her influence over my family kept on increasing and poor me had to bear the consequences of the situation, as a result. Inevitable? Yes so! Because the first point she made was the Blessed Eddie, beautifully painted on my door reflected a sign of negative energy that has accumulated inside of my head. Absence of Gods in my room, really upset her. The fact that I don't believe in His Holy existence upset her more. She passed her judgement, Eddie needs to be washed away and Gods need to enter my room. I told her I can help her getting to the exit door really fast. She didn't think it was funny. So she decided to take her revenge. She got hold of these positive pyramids from somewhere and implanted them inside of my room, onto the walls. As if she was reading my mind and my intentions, she decided to not use fevicol, like any cheap Indian idiot, but to make use of drills and screws. Thus, six brilliant pyramids got screwed onto my walls and into my life. I swear I saw a smirk on her face, after she left my room with bundle of notes in her hand. Now someday, when I'll have enough money and time to waste, I'll implant a few disco lights inside of these pyramids and dance my heart out to Disco Deewane.

Till then, adios.

Here is Eddie. He eats your guts if you hate him. Adorable.

Will the real terrorists please stand up?

2009-11-24T10:30:00.005+05:30

I really wonder what have political parties like Shiv Sena and MNS ever done for betterment of this Maharashtra state and the Marathi-manoos, than spread hatred, violence, disturbance and fear? I cannot remember one single instance where these political parties have been in the news for actually doing something good and constructive. The only reason they appear everywhere and everyday in the newspaper and on the TV is because they are burning buses somewhere IN MAHARASHTRA or are killing and injuring hapless, ignorant and totally innocent people somewhere IN MAHARASHTRA or are breaking offices and smashing some civilians' cars somewhere IN MAHARASHTRA, disrupting traffic somehwere IN MAHARASHTRA or are aiding intolerance, rage and chaos, all IN MAHARASHTRA. I also fail to understand, how these party members, rose from slums to riches. Where did the money come from? Any supporting Marathi-manoos ever cared to question them that? Did they EVER solve any of your civil problems? They follow killing in the name of Shivaji and malign the great man's name and taint and tarnish his holy image every single day and yet the Marathi-manoos sitting behind me shouts out "Shiv Sena Zindabad. MNS Zindabad".

And then I read, terrorists kill two innocent civilians in India somewhere.

this one on how one fucks up everything and then how everything else fucks you up

2009-10-24T11:45:00.001+05:30

First you get a project you were really looking forward to work on, where you get to travel, meet new people and work on something that you always wanted to do. You go away and get distracted to the extent that you forget that there was work to be done. Then you come home and are filled with guilt, so you spend three sleepless nights in a row and finish off everything that was pending. Then there are meetings and other formalities to complete with another God. Then you go on to act super-impatient and in haste take up one more new thing that could've easily waited for a month, while you could've organized and settled yourself with the already pending work in hand. But insecurity gets the better of you and you end up, not only setting something that you haven't really done before, but you also undertake two more projects at the same time. Finally, you slog, slog, slog, slog and get everything ready from your end and then comes a gestation period, where all you can do is wait, wait, wait and wait for the delivery date. And then the grand day arrives where the clients have done their part, you have done your part and now the rest of the act depends on the actions of that third-God. The God calls in sick and sigh, again the time stands still and again we are lost in another one of those deep, dark periods of wait. Fuckin' impatience!

Needless Attention

2009-10-16T11:57:00.002+05:30

Oh, give me attention,
So I can ignore you
Give me your trust now,
So more I can fuck you
Give me your life, bitch
So I can control you
I wanted to play God
So I went on to own you

Fuck this mindless existence
Love by love, let's kill each other
Oh, I want some pity
Give me that look
And I'll go on to smother
This wastage of a beautiful life,
I waste my time with you

Tie me in chains, so I never move on
And give me another pill to swallow
I can't live no longer on your fuckin' dose
So give me a new life
Or give me a noose

I'm a deluded child,
Squandering time,
Entangled in my life of lies
And this hole of a world, never bothered
To see my rights
So I painted my wrongs in colours of red
And bled your scars to life

Slitting your life from the cliffs of glory
Holding the black flags, high high high
I shouted and screamed, now this is my story
All I want is now, for you to die

Wisdumb

2009-10-11T03:37:00.003+05:30

Do not mind the words of the drunk, cause he knows no fear, understands no suffering and feels no pain.

We Make Movies And Then Movies Make Us

2009-10-09T01:52:00.000+05:30

Is it weird that I never find a reason good enough to celebrate, and actually feel celebration is a waste of time? I'm still to find anything worth fighting for. I think I had one for sometime, and then I just got bored, gave up. It was pointless. I don't like it when I start depending on anything or anyone. It makes me clingy. I detest clingy people, can't stand the sight of them. Probably cause they are a shadow of me. So I walk away. There is this sexy line in Ronin when De Niro is asked if he's killed anyone and he answers, "No. But I've hurt someone's feelings". Killer! And then I smile at myself and say, what the hell, I'm a bad man, so be it. Almost like the Rabbi from Lucky Number Slevin. "I'm a bad man who doesn't waste time wondering what could've been when I am what could've been and what could not have been. I live on both sides of the fence. My grass is always green." It's strange when I don't feel even one bit proud of anything about my life. People everywhere are proud of so many things, the college they attended, the concert they attended, the country they live in, their culture, their guitar, their family and my attitude goes, "Oh, whatever". Smiles, fun times, laughter, are all fine. But nothing lasts. I go on to attend a fantastic show and come out overwhelmed, seriously awed by the performance, trying to remember and feel the vibrations of the vocal harmonies that took over my numb brain and gave me a high that no fuckin drug in this world can ever give, and then I'm surrounded by a happy and equally awed group, left totally speechless by the same and yet I feel lost, not finding the reason to dance. It's crazy but somehow I'm always reminded of the fact that all good and beautiful things eventually turn ugly. As the wise and not so old Chuck Palahniuk puts it, there is a reason we are not immortal, else we might end up killing each other eventually. Everything finally wilts and dies. Nothing lasts. Two people, however lost they can be at that moment, cannot be in that place for good, except in movies, of course where the fuckin heart goes on and on and on. And yet we celebrate the moment, living the moment as everyone puts it. Finding joy in small things. Getting wasted doesn't make one happy, just numb. And isn't the numbness we are all after anyway? Nothing's real, these achievements and failures, greats and losers, mortals and supermen, Gods and barbarians, all these values and morals, all make-beliefs so we don't end up shooting down each other. But what's the point? We all die, eventually. It's just a mental state. Seriously Walter, what's the point?

It is that word again

2009-09-29T09:35:00.003+05:30

It is nice to see people having faith, it makes me at times, believe in life only for a moment maybe, but well, it is just heartening to see someone having a reason to wake up the next morning. After every door gets slammed to your face and after you decide to abandon your family, since they'd abandoned you first, it's not easy to stay away from becoming a cynic and a cold-hearted creature, or so I believe. I have always been an escapist myself and no I'm not ashamed of this fact. It's just how I've been. I tend to find the easier way out and I get out of every other thing that is trying to mess me up, and this may come at whatever cost to me or anyone else, it's just my way of dealing with life. Hence, becoming a cynic and hatred or non-acceptance have come easy to me. I choose to detest everything that makes me uncomfortable, pushing the blame on that something, getting rid of the guilt factor and then rest, or attempt to rest in my dark hole.

And then you meet a person, who might have achieved everything, who might have reached the desired place, but there were always these needless struggles, painful battles, scars for life. And the person still believes in life, looks forward to it, even while a dark cloud gets formed in the background.

Maybe, maybe is a nice word, I just have lost it's meaning.

Path to salvation

2009-09-26T23:55:00.005+05:30

Are you frustrated with the world, so bad that you won't give it a second thought to just fuckin' blow it away? Wait! Do not pull out your gun yet. Take a driver's helmet, hit the road, find a crowded place and start bashing up people with your weapon of destruction. What will happen is, the police won't interfere since, you're armed with a deadly fuckin' helmet. So they'll let you be and you can happily go about doing your act until a brave heart steps forward and attacks you. Let him do so. Once people understand that you are surrendering yourself to them, everyone will rush in and vent out their frustration onto you. Even a ten year old won't be afraid of you now. The 25-year old, who'd run away ten minutes back sighting the helmet in your hand, will come back in full force and start hitting you. Thus, you'll finally give everyone peace at your own cost. This is sacrifice. You might even die in the process, but worry not, you have helped today thousands of common men, by being their punching bag of anger, hate and disappointment. At least, for this one day, they'll go home happy and won't shout at their family members. At least for this one day, they won't get lost in some addiction to feel numb, as they won't need another escape.

Since, you've done some public service at your own cost, God the great might just forgive you of all your sins and past mistakes, and you'll be shown into the gates of Heaven. And since I've helped you attain salvation, the ultimate Judge might just forgive me of some of my sins and my chances to enter Heaven, just might have increased.

Bad Leg Day And A Memoir

2009-09-22T22:24:00.006+05:30

Had a bad leg day. That means I broke my leg. While I was bowling myself out of nervousness, my head told my body to suddenly jump and jump it did. But since my body wasn't quite ready for it and my mind was still lost in thoughts of my work in progress, my body landed awkwardly on a twisted foot. I screamed for my dearest mommy and my mom said she's busy on a phone call. I screamed to tell her to rush to the living room corner immediately, but she screamed back telling me to stop irritating her. I did not give up and I screamed again. She finally hung up the phone and came to the living room. Seeing me on the floor, rolling in pain, she immediately declared "fracture". I mocked. I was to be proved right. Though in pain, I still went off to slavery serve my client. However, my boss was nice enough to tell me there was no work and I should just run for home before people return from their lunch break. I obediently left for the day within an hour of reaching work. But I did manage to nearly break a coffee mug as I dropped it off on my injured foot, on my way out of office.

On reaching home I was forced to go to the doc and he told my dad, exactly what I wanted to hear, "There is no need to worry, he's perfectly fine. Just take rest for a couple of days." Home again, I was running around happily everywhere. But laziness had already filled me and head has been shouting sleep, well, it's been shouting that for more than a week now, yet I fail to listen. Anyway, important message for all the overly-concerned beings: I am perfectly fine now, thank you very much for your concern. And for the rest not-so-concerned: You know I love you too :)

Of other things, Goa was brilliant. I did not know I possessed the talent of staring at the passing vehicles for an entire afternoon. I loved Goa for numberous reasons. One of the main reasons being, the Goan dogs love me, or at least they don't mind me, not one bit. Even in the drunken-most of conditions, I wasn't barked at. In fact, I actually went on to pat a stray and he happily kept following us everywhere and I did not mind one bit! I remember, a lifetime ago, when a stray was following me and this dog-loving friend of mine at Churchgate, I was petrified at the thought of a stray accompanying us and yet I was being told, "Oh ho! Poor dog looks so scared. Look at his tail, it's between his legs, shows he is scared." Trust me my friend, I was more scared! Anyway, Goa was freedom. Drinking on the streets, with passers-by shouting cheers! Where else do you get that? I was never in my life, asked if I wanted a "pussy" so openly, by a stranger. Beaches were nice. They were practically empty, except for a couple of a tourists here and there. Driving for sixteen hours, laughing at a helpless idiot stuck in swamp, Patrick's human side and serious wisdom, getting drunk at 10am, sitting on the rocks and staring at the sea undisturbed for a good three hours and not having a single thought to worry me, going to a helipad to help a friend learn to drive, I'm not going to easily forget that I was free, even if it was just for four days.

tears baby, tears

2009-09-20T21:35:00.005+05:30

Sadness decends upon the proper earth as my guitar strings break and the club I supported for the evening lose out to the over-rated, much-hailed red-coloured-cheats. Darkness fills the night, not only cause it's 9.30pm, but also 'cause the busy boy hasn't got a single e-mail since 4pm.

No, trust me, it's driving me insane. Usually, I'm so much in demand, I am the guy who gets an e-mail every two minutes during the daytime [including spam, but who cares], and I'm the guy who wakes up to a minimum of ten unread email messages and mind you that's a minimum number ten for you. It's been 4 days and counting, I've just received about ten emails. What has happened? Why this sudden quietness? Has the world forgotten me? I am feeling fuckin' abandoned here! What in the name of Holy Satan have I done to deserve this? Comics.com and Getafreelancer.com were the only two regulars who mailed me to ask me if I was doing fine, rest of the websites, they've just acted as if they don't care. Why? Have they erased me from their mail-list? Should I re-subscribe or will that seem too desperate a move and will attract un-needed attention?

Insecurity is filling me, to the point of agony. Sigh! Don't abandon me internet, cause I need you? Can you feel my tears, can you feel my fuckin' pain? Can you feel it, baby? Can you see me bleeding? I even went on to check my spam folders and surprise hit me like a kick on my nuts, NO SPAM! SONOFADOG! No one's selling me viagra anymore? No one's selling me a seat to some MBA course? No more "Enlarge your penis" ads? Don't they no longer think I'm worth it? Am I really losing my audience? Is this damnation? I thought I was important, I thought I was something, I believed them when they said "Devil is within you, all you need to do is find Him in you" and I did, or at least I thought I did. I hailed Him, I praised Him, and yet, and yet, just ten emails in four days.

...and we let it slip away

2009-09-08T02:56:00.003+05:30

It's funny how we keep drowning in our self-created miseries, day after day. The world which we once held on to, how it keeps on slipping away, well, how we let it slip away and then we scream for help and we keep screaming...

... while we keep on drowning!

The Self-pity Song

2009-09-07T20:39:00.002+05:30

All these feelings get you nowhere.
All these emotions take you nowhere.
Make me mechanical, Oh god,
Automatic, self-destructible.
One shot! Bam! Bam!
Bullet, help me travel as straight as you,
In a singular direction, with no deviation.
Kill all these distractions,
The things I can never get.
But I want and I want and I want
More out of this life of imperfection,
All I feel is deprivation
Of life, as good as inexistence.
My breath, I feel asphyxiation.
As my dreams, my love, my life, they all have come to kill me.
I preach renunciation, yet I act so dependent.
I hate me so much and I hate what I am.
I'm a shadow of my yesterdays
With a glimpe of a dead man,
I never intended to be.
So cure me of this disease called me,
Or help me die in peace cause I can't bear
What I see when I look in the mirror
It shows me a face that I want to so destroy.

I am fuckin' polite

2009-09-02T01:03:00.004+05:30

The very first question A asks me, when I meet him at the office gate is, "Hey, how are you? How is everything?" Now, I barely know A, and our longest chat had lasted for 38 long seconds, if not less. I have no interest in discussing anything with him and I am pretty sure it's vice versa. Yet the question "How is life", as if expecting me to be completely frank about my state. Now, I know it's nice of him to ask me this question, but keep it for once-in-a-while-Hi-replacement, he can use a simple "Hello" for everyday usage. But no, it has to be "How is everything?" I know he expects my standard reply to be, "All good, you tell me" but on some days, I swear I feel like telling him, "Dude, I've been lying to you all this while. I am not good. I've never been good. My life is so fucked up, you know..." And knowing very well, how busy A always is, I would love to go on and on and on and on and on, about my sad, fucked up life and crib in his ears upto no end. Then I'll go and ask "how is everything" to him, the first thing next day. But then, I am really trying hard to be a nice guy, well, at least on the face of it.

On other news, I hate to declare the sad truth of life. It takes minimum 9 minutes to make decent two-minute Maggi. Yes, they kept lying to us over all these years. They never included the time taken to search for the scissors to cut open the packet of Maggi and the masala, the time taken for the process of cleaning a utensil and filling it with water and the time taken to serve the same in a plate. I wonder how we ever believed them in first place!

Try...

2009-08-30T23:29:00.001+05:30

... reading Sandman with Explosions In The Sky playing in the background. Bliss.

Travesty

2009-08-26T20:53:00.002+05:30

It was just another day in life of Makhrand; get up at 7am sharp, clean yourself, rush and run, catch the 8.15am local train to work, reach the station, wait for the bus, push, shove, ticket, “Sir, make yourself comfortable. I do not mind standing”, get down, daily chai and a smoke, lift to the fifth floor, swipe swipe, “Hello, Meena”, lights on, computer power-on, run to washroom, fresh water on face, get back to the seat, type the password, open the browser and we are working in five, four, three, two, one...

It doesn't bother him that a certain politician was killed today, right outside his building. It isn't going to change his life in anyway, well, particularly. The fact that his neighbour is going to get a few thousand rupees to keep shut about the killing doesn't bring about a change in his lifestyle. He works on.

His job matters, the twenty-thousand rupees getting deposited by the end of the month matter, everything else is God's business. Family matters, giving away twelve thousand rupees to his father at the end of the month, so he can run away to his village and waste away his son's hard-earned money in alcohol and gambling habits - matters, a new lady co-worker joining the work place matters, “I am still unmarried” matters, getting employee-of-the-year award matters, getting shouted at for not completing the day's tasks matters, sitting for fourteen hours without proper food matters, having a smoke after a tiring day at work matters, catching the 11.30 pm train to home matters.

******
Alpesh wasn't the fittest of people in the world now, with his thrombocytopenia. A good looking, smart kid, with fifty-million friends to choose from, jazzy shades, rich boots and leather jackets, he is what movie-stars are made of. But what has that got to do with being rich? What has anything got to do with being son of a doting, powerful father, who only had cars and parties to offer to his two children? Seema was happy with her husband in the UK, while the much younger sibling, Alpesh was working his way in a corporate.

Ring, ring! Alarm clock. Get up at 9. Welcome sunshine, juice, wash, breakfast, “Bye, mum”, car, cruise, honk-honk, park, lift, swipe swipe, “Morning, Meena”, “Hey” and “Hi”, “Hey Makhrand”, password, log-in, mail, chat, phone, “Reached work, mum”, work, eat, break, work, break, work, 6.30pm, swipe-swipe, lift, car, girlfriend, muah-muah, car, home, eat, friends, beer, home, sleep is life.

Reaching work doesn't matter, the twenty-six thousand five hundred, that get deposited in the bank by the month end, don't matter, a pretty lady colleague at work, well, matters, “I have a girlfriend” matters, flamboyant lifestyle matters, Makhrand is my best bud at work, matters, Makhrand is over-worked, doesn't matter, Makhrand is my boss and yet highly underpaid, doesn't matter, finishing my day's tasks matters, a politician was killed outside Makhrand's place, doesn't matter. Life is a day's worth of living, everyone else thinking otherwise is an idiot.

An Ode To Beer

2009-08-20T21:13:00.002+05:30

Last night I was up till three am
Headbanging in my room to In Flames
I banged my sleepless eye against my knee
There was blood everywhere
I need my beer to fall asleep
Oh beer
Don't you leave me alone.
Oh beer
How I love to carry you home.

After working out in gym for three hours
I felt like testing my superman powers
I put on some porn and enjoyed two hours
But without a beer I'm up till wee hours
Oh beer
You accept me as I am
Oh beer
Never try to turn me into another man

You never ask me with whom I've been
Was it a bottle of vodka, or just some feminine gin
You're the only cure to all my aches, yeah!
One beer a day will keep the doc away!

Oh beer
My unconditional love
Oh beer
It's only you I think of
Oh beer
My love so true
Oh beer
Don't you love me too
Oh beer

Stop Messing With Me!

2009-08-16T20:24:00.000+05:30

Sunday, Lazy Sunday

2009-08-09T14:49:00.007+05:30

Inspired by Ms. Divya, I decided to paint my wall. I clicked the picture and mailed it to a few people. Then posted it on facebook, DA, everywhere. Hell, I was so proud of it. Here, I post it again.Now, Anarchy and Punk, both the philosophies are pretty much anti-perfection and anti-order, anti-discipline, anti-shit, anti-shat. But I admire them nonetheless. Well, I also thought I represented both these cultures to quite an extent, until, on close inspection of the photograph, I realised there were a few mistakes in the Anarchy symbol. So I went ahead to perfect the symbol of imperfection.

After everything seemed decently complete, I, somehow had the urge to dip the brush in the colours again and paint a few random strokes around the symbol. Realising my stupidity, I should've stopped there. But I went on to add to this by committing a wall-breaking act. I added some water, just for kicks, to the paint brush and I moved the brush over wet paint. I have no clue what I was thinking, or if I was at all thinking. It wasn't long before I crashed to the floor holding my head in my hands in dismay. The paint had started flowing down the wall and the symbol was now looking like a spit on the wall. I calmed myself down for two minutes, and I really should've waited more but impatience is my best friend. I started correcting the spoilt areas with some white paint. The exisitng paint being still wet, the white paint started flowing along with the water, while it also mixed with the existing red paint, bringing out a bright pink. About two years back, I would've killed myself over this. But sanity restored somehow and I waited for the paint to dry now before doing any further damage to the wall or myself. Finally, I altered the anarchy smybol a bit and applied white paint over the dried drips. The output now looks alright but I still do not have the courage to take a second look at the wall.

Moral of the story: Stop aiming for perfection. Accept nothing is and nothing can ever be perfect. Stop trying to correct things. You'll only end up making them worse.

Of other stories, I think it's my duty to impart some wisdom to the young idiots out there: Do not go to a movie drunk on beer. You tend to fall asleep and your angry friends slap you awake as you disturb them with your loud snoring in the middle of a steamy scene on the screen.

That's it for now. Till next time, adios motherfuckers!

Updated pic:

And I Wonder...

2009-07-24T19:07:00.003+05:30

Imagine sitting in a quiet empty cubicle at work, where you are lost in your deep thoughts, with your index finger up your nostril, focused on digging your nose, deep down in, in order to locate that irritating speck of dried mucus that has been on your mind since the time your nieghbour had said, “I am leaving for lunch” and you had immediately got to working that irritation out; and just when the finger is deeply lost in your nose and you have reached your moment of glory, your mucus of destination, you find this attractive colleague, whom you've always fantasized spending endless nights with, walking to your cubicle, eager to share some good news with you. Looking at her walk, you are sure that she is happy and excited. So it has to be some good news. You knew this even before she had completed the act of opening the cabin door. Yes, you have always studied her so intently, so someday, perhaps, she finds it really sweet that you understand her so well and she brings your fantasy to life, your real-life porn star, your saviour, your colleague. But right then, you start fingering your nostril vigourously so you get rid of that shitty mucus and right then it occurs to you that your entrie life has been like that, except you being the finger, who has been searching for his path to glory, the path to ultimate peace and freedom, inside a deep dark hole, all alone and when you've finally found it, and just when you are reaching for that special thing, just like your fingertips have now, you have to stop and withdraw yourself, like you withdraw your finger and neatly place it on a clean handkerchief so you are ready to indulge in a handshake with that beautiful approaching lady colleague. But your moment of peace will have to wait, as more troubles crowd your mind when the lady colleague absolutely ignores you, bypasses you to greet the guy in the next cubicle with an exaggerated hug or even worse, when she approaches you but takes back her hand almost as instantaneously as she had brought it forward, ready for you to hold and give you that one tiny moment of almost sexual gratification, in dismay after she has seen you performing the act of disgust. The words she speaks are then, some jumbled syllables' group hitting your ears, which are completely meaningless and all you can think of is, “Did she see me digging my nose and if she did, is that why she isn't shaking hands with me and if she isn't shaking hands with me now, will she ever shake her hands with me”, or an even worse thought occurs, “if she did not see me digging my nose, why did she withdraw her hand. Does she consider me so disgusting or is it that she saw me doing something even more disgusting with my hands than my fingers sticking up my nose and now I'll be forever deprived of taking her hand in my hand, even for that brief second.” And as soon as you are over with these horrible chain of thoughts, she has completed telling her good news and has been waiting for your reaction, which comes in a bit late and sounds even more lame, “Ah good! Congratulations” especially, when there was no need to add a congratulations at the end of the sentence, as she questions with intense curiosity, “Thanks. But why are you congratulating me? Are you being sarcastic?” And then it happens, the sudden loss for words and the glorified stupidity radiating from your face, so loud, that it feels like this is your real face and what you wear everyday is just a mask or some make-up. But life moves on and so does the goddess. Resigning to your fate, you return to your world, and then back to your chair, you look around to confirm you are still hidden from any other prying eyes and get back to digging out some relief. But just when your fingertip finds it's way, back to the mucus of relief, in comes your neighbour, walking in with your boss, ready to shake your hand. Here, the process is thankfully less complicated. Out comes the finger, out comes the handkerchief, cleans the dirt, handkerchief then goes into the pocket and you are all set to shake hands with your mucus for life. You are least bothered if anyone has now seen you picking your nose. Unfortunately, relief will need to wait.

Fear Of The Bark

2009-07-13T11:23:00.005+05:30

I am the man who walks alone
And when I'm walking a dark road
At night or strolling through the park

[A soft bark keeps playing in the background]

When the light begins to change
I sometimes feel a little strange
A little anxious of that bark

Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a constant fear that someone's barking there
Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a phobia that some someone's smelling me

Have you rode your bikes on that road
And have you felt your hands go cold
When you're reaching for the brakes?
Sometimes when you're scared to take a look
At the back of your right foot
You've sensed that someone's smelling you

Have you ever walked alone at night
Thought you heard a bark behind
And turned around and a dog is there
And as you quicken up your pace
You find it hard to look again
Because you're sure there're two more there

Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a constant fear the dogs are barking there
Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a phobia that dogs are chasing me

[A heavy distorting barking solo]

Watching flight 666 an hour before
You've had a beer and some more
The unknown canines on your mind
That sleeping dog is playing tricks
You sense, and suddenly eyes fix
On chasing shadows from behind

Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a constant fear that someone's barking there
Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a phobia that someone's smelling me
Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a constant fear that dogs are always near
Fear of the bark, fear of the bark
I have a phobia that dogs are chasing me

When I'm walking a dark road
I am a man who walks alone

Original lyrics for reference here .

[Twisted] Perception

2009-07-09T11:52:00.007+05:30

Looking at the world around it really makes me wonder at the amount of selfishness it’s filled with. There is nothing wrong with it, as long as it doesn’t quite hurt the other beings around you, but being in a society that really can’t happen. Our actions will always, be it our choice or not, affect someone else in a way [good or bad is a matter of perception].

Look at human beings producing children. First of all they are not happy with their lives. They want more and more and more and more. You give them everything and then, in the name of evolution and progress, they stay insatiable, attached to everything they don’t own, but only perceive as theirs. The most ridiculous thing that human beings get attached to is another human being, who is the most volatile substance on this earth.

Human beings are obsessed with playing God and controlling everything around them. We are power hungry, greedy animals, with no respect for another. We say we do respect and we love someone else. That’s one of the biggest of lies we tend to believe in. No one can dare love a person who loathes you, disrespects you. Why? Cause we are selfish. We want to own a certain person so we can mutate him into a being we want. We like to play around with him and make him one of our creations. We want to be God. In fact, love is the biggest hoax this world has created. Don’t get me wrong, love is an excellent marketing tool, look around you. Love sells. Entertainment sector is selling love in hordes and we are buying it. Shops are selling love in cards and we are paying for it baby! Love, the term, I guess was creation of a genius. A gold mine that it is, you can sell anything in the name of love.

Look at these stupid kids falling in love every second day or choosing their “the ones” for lifetime. “I need a companion” they say,” A boyfriend, a girlfriend, a friend, my future family, my current family, my substitute family, so I don’t die alone, so I don’t breathe alone.” It’s a fashion statement which we all like to wear. I own have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. “You need to have one, cause everyone around you has one, hell, who wants to end up all alone”, you say, “you need a companion to share your life with”. Sorry, but statements like these make me cough my guts out.

Then there are families. Marriage or committed relationship of its kind is another way to keep your boyfriend or girlfriend for yourself. Is this an enforced trust or just a mere license to sex? Given a choice, every human being would love to have multiple companions, multiple people he or she can sleep with. Many will accept this fact, some won’t. I call them idiots and escapists; escapists because, they can’t even be true to themselves. They don’t have the courage to accept that their so-called wrong thoughts are not even one bit wrong or unethical and just plain animal psyche-driven. But marriage is a special bond or prison which shall restrain you from sleeping around with another companion [or such are the conditions of it]. Commitment is another word they designed to justify their “Godship”. After a few days, years or months of marriage, the oh-so-selfless human beings produce children to bring further happiness to their lives. Don’t get me wrong, children are a bundle of joy and I myself enjoy spending time with kids, but it still doesn’t justify my “right” to bring another life to this earth. No purpose, no meaning. “To keep this human race alive”, some say. I really wonder how many people are making children out there for the sake of humanity. If I had the balls to do so, I’d blow this human race away and end everyone’s miseries all at once. But again, I am no God to choose over your life and your right to live. So I should just mind my own business, I guess.

I’d really like to question families on why they go on to make babies, and most of them might voice, “Support for when we grow old and feeble”. So, you take care and nourish your baby, give him or her good education, so that one day he or she becomes rich and becomes your staff. You have the power to bring life to this earth. But do you really have the power then, to own this life you give birth to? For all you know, your assumptions can come crashing down all at once if the kid dies at your young age, or his young age and you are in “need” of him or her, or if he just runs away on you, or worse, he throws you off the cliff to fetch a staff for yourself. Now that would be funny, your own creation telling you to get the hell out of his life. Your chances of playing God gone for a toss. No control, no power, life of a pauper?

Need? Seriously, do we ever need anyone, at all? Can’t we just be self-sufficient and satisfied?

Then there are other idiots who claim that children are a symbol of their love. Is it a proof that they had lots of sex while they were still potent? Or is it again the fear of the unknown gripping them and so they make kids so they can still feel the existence of themselves surviving on this earth after they are long gone. Everyone is afraid of death. Nothing to be ashamed of here, life after death is completely unknown and only theories can be constructed to know what happens after. I call that fair. If you look at our lives, it’s just lived on these theories, these vague ideas. Our lives are never defined, never structured really. We are brought here blank and naked. Then we are dressed to meet the needs of the society and are given the power to think. We are even made to believe that we have a choice. Then we start “knowing” things around us. We start gaining intelligence, become “enlightened” and knowledgeable. I say, we become more and more stupid as we grow old and “wise”. We fill our heads with ideas and perceptions. We never know what life is about really, but just take an idea and live with it the whole life. It keeps mutilating no doubt, but one idea only is replaced by another. This defines our course of life. Just an idea, just a thought, and nothing more is our destiny. So, while we are walking our course and while we are breathing that air, we are aware of our surroundings. But we are not aware of a world beyond this life. This life is a prison with no windows. A heavily guarded, thick walled prison, from where death is the only escape. But we get too accustomed to the idea of life eventually, we get immune by all the good and bad, all the acceptable and unacceptable around us and then we become a part of this prison. We do not then want to go out of here as we do not then have an idea of the world outside the same. We do not then have an idea of a life beyond this prison. We are dying in our lives, drowning, falling, succumbing helplessly, sometimes happily, but definitely timidly, as we choose to rather suffer with someone like us, than with some unknown, unseen [or maybe forgotten] entity. Hence, life is chosen over death and we fear looking beyond. Therefore, create children, so we have a symbol of ourselves alive on this earth, while we are sailing on some other planet. We think we have become immortal by giving life. We think we have created life and hence we are also God. We think we know, but all we have is an idea and thoughts. All this illusion of a world is our creation, so fragile that one whisper of a breath can blow it to bits. Children are our insurance, our security blankets that make us believe, we shall survive on this earth even after our time is done.

There are quite a few couples who make children for business purpose, so they can lead a helping hand to the family business. I respect such couples. They are at least honest about their selfish attitudes. They have the courage to accept that they are creating life to serve them and don’t feed the world other deceptive ideas.

I can just reach to this conclusion from all this. World is selfish, every form of life is selfish, etching its survival at the cost of every other living form. The only person we can love is our own stupid self. The only reason we love our self is because we are afraid to die. The only reason we fear death is because we are accustomed to this prison of a life. If only we dare to step beyond and open up, accept death, will we lose this fear, this selfishness, this curse.

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

“Even Gods are mortal. They die with their followers” - Neil Gaiman

...

2009-06-28T00:58:00.002+05:30

Why do fireflies have to die so soon?

...

2009-06-21T08:48:00.000+05:30

It's a beautiful day, apart from the fact that we both died today.

Rant

2009-05-25T19:59:00.005+05:30

Sometimes you just know that you're fucked and that there is no way out of it. Then you sit down and suffer; you wonder, why has it all come down to this. But there are no answers. There never were any convincing answers to anything anyway. Life is like that - meaningless. We all derive or attempt to derive some meaning out of it. Try to make sense out of it, so we find a reason to breathe our next breath. No, we don't like to give up. Most of the times, 'cause we are afraid to let go of the life, however good, bad or fucked up as it may seem, we are at least aware of it and we don't want to change that, as death is yet unseen. Fear of the unknown and all that jazz keeps us from killing self. Rest of the times, it's 'cause we have hope and faith. Even a person like me has hopes; I really don't know from whom and from what. Somehow there is faith. Can we have faith without having hope? Can we have hope without any faith? Can these two terms be used alternatively? What’s the point of this rant? Nothing! What’s the point of life? Nothing! So, let's buy some idea and start living it.

Quote of the day: No one is free, even the birds are chained to the sky.

I Recommend Beer...

2009-05-02T00:48:00.002+05:30

Many people have been asking me of late, to explain why I consider beer as a medicine. So here is the list of reasons:

1. It cures heartaches, headaches, bodyaches, toothaches and nearly every kinda ache that you'll ever experience in your lifetime.
2. A perfect cure for kidney stone. You down enough quantity of the medicine and it'll get rid of your kidney stone in one night.
3. Cleans your stomach. Fresh start to mornings, takes care of your skin and also no more mouth ulcers. Wohoo!
4. Helps you fall into a peaceful dreamless slumber. Cures insomnia for many.
5. Solves most of the problems that milk just can't.
6. Provides entertainment when taken in right quantity by right people.
7. Makes you brave. Fill yourself with good enough quantity and you are ready to take on the world!
8. Beats the heat. Most suited drink for Indian climate.
9. And last but definitely not the least, unbeatable taste.

My favourite: Heineken

Note: Others are welcome to contribute to this list. I am sure there are more than just 9 reasons.

Scars

2009-05-02T00:39:00.000+05:30

As we lie here, sleepless and torn
Like some used abandoned voodoo dolls
With bruises all over our bodies and minds
The needles you jabbed in, got left behind

Making us crumble, making us fall
Look at your God, He's made us crawl
Lost in life, wonder if life is lost
Open your veins, breath's just a lost cause

Smelled the roses and felt the thorns
Saved the sorrow, we aid our rot
We never give up, yet we never lead on
Ashamed of life, let's not get re-born

Too much time, let's run away
Build a cave and hide away
Look at the sun, it brings a shadow
Die in hope of a better tomorrow

Enemy times, we load our guns
Shoot the boy, and kill his son
Shout the war cry, save my wife
Kill that man and make my life

Hail the king now everyone
Three cheers for the entertainment
Three cheers for the deaths
Three cheers for the misery
Long live the king
Long live tyranny

Music

2009-03-09T20:31:00.003+05:30

Our life is a movie without a soundtrack. So we create one. Unfortunately, it's never sold in any record stores. So it goes unheard. Just like our lives at times.

Somehow the smile has changed, the talk has changed and the actions, well, they aren't even mine any more. May be I just walked into someone else's life. There were these people, who brought melody with them, I guess I just miss them. They are still here alright, but even they have estranged themselves for their real selves, I guess. I can't judge their happiness, I can only speak for myself. And I'm not happy, I'm not happy to have lost music. It does come back once in a while, just for a few moments, but fades away as fast. And then, all that is left is this errie silence, a dark room and an empty feeling.

I know what can bring it all back; it's all very obvious, to me and to everyone, but I guess, we all are just too busy with our lives to notice how silence has filled us all.

India... Developing?

2009-01-27T09:43:00.005+05:30

Let me start this post with a disclaimer. This post comes from an ignorant Indian, who barely knows about Indian history, who barely understands Indian culture, who barely follows Indian politics and in short, who has barely looked outside his own life. However, I am an observer and some things did catch my eye, and being a human being, just like you, I have every right to judge my fellow beings.

----------

People across the globe are crying about how work is getting outsourced and how they are losing their jobs and money to Indians. We are boasting about the progress we have made and our rapid economic growth and our glorifying and booming IT sector. Then there is a disappointed, disheartened and to quite an extent, disgusted me!

I have been quitting jobs as though I am some special being, who is so much in demand that I shouldn't worry even one bit about where my next monies will come from. Well, frankly, it is cause I am disgusted with the reality. It is cause I choose to not adapt and become one of them.

The way we work:
1. Set unrealistic deadlines.
2. In order to reach them, collect data from some other website. Morals and ethics were never a part of business anyway. And do we even have principles these days?
3. Take a celebrated site, or an accepted design, collect elements from there, and create your "own" design. Ta-daah! We are creative.
Seriously, it is so pathetic, at one of the places, where I used to work, the "creative" director used to just send me link to some websites with a message "the site should look like this, take all the elements you want from this website". The next place I worked was worse. It is one of those big companies, where the creative director, obviously had a bigger [thieving?] mind. He used to lift the entire website [screenshots, along with the individual elements] and place it in the mail stating "make a webpage using these elements". The fact that he kept winning the "employee of the year" award for 2 straight years left me speechless.

C'mon people, just take a look around. There are no beautiful things here. You tell me one Indian logo which is magnificently designed and has won international praise. One Indian movie, which was so different and artistic in nature, that it went on to win awards. We are supposed IT leaders. Well, one Indian website which has won awards. I am registered on most of the forums and blogs which discuss the best designed websites and give away weekly or monthly awards on the basis of votes. In 3 years, I have just come across 5-7 Indian names which were amongst the nominees on these sites and just 1 website, out of these, which was made by an Indian, living in India. [None of these ever won an award. But to get nominated is itself a huge deal]. Unfortunately, it was his portfolio site and it wasn't made for any corporate. Reason is simple, no Indian corporate will give you more than 2 days to design their websites. Ridiculous! Look at the ancient Indian art, look at ancient sculptures and monuments. Were they built in a day?

I can well imagine the conversation between the project manager and his team-members, if the Taj was to be constructed in this age.

Project Manager [PM]: Build Taj Mahal in 3 days, here is the copy of Pyramids, even they used to bury kings and queens over there, just lift those stones and build an original monument like these Egyptian tombs. It won't take time. We have better technology than people back then, so it's possible.
Lazy Team-member [LTM]: Sir, it's not possible to build the Taj in 3 days, even with the available technology. We'll never get time for testing.
PM: We don't need to test. Look at the Pyramids. They don't have any bugs. If we follow the same procedure, we'll end up making similar original structures of high quality and there won't be any bugs. Besides, look at our technology.
LTM: 3 days is too short. Please talk to the client.
PM: I understand it's a tough schedule. But I talked to our Sales head and he said the client won't understand.
LTM: Sir, it's already 5.30 pm.
PM: I know. I hate to do this to you guys always. But even I am getting jacked you see. We have to deliver this project in 3 days. So guys, let's work together and kick ass. The CEO has promised us a raise if we deliver this in 2 days time. So get on with it. Shah Jahan is a big client, we can't let this contract slip away. Anyway, I have to rush home as my wife is having her in-laws for dinner tonight. I need to buy some alu and gobi.

2 and a half sleepless days later:

LTM: Sir, it's done. Ready to deliver.
PM: Good job. Shah Jahan will be proud. Oh wait, here are a list of minor modifications. Won't take you much long. Good for you, you still have half a day left.
[LTM takes a look at the minor modifications and nearly dies.]
LTM: Sir, this is just not possible. Now you want the monument to look like Qutub Minar! We'll have to completely change the design and code.
PM: I know I should've told you earlier, but I know that skilled and talented people like you won't find this a major hurdle and change the design from Pyramid to Qutub in matter of minutes. It's just geometry anyway. Anyway, I won't waste even a minute of your time now, get on with it. I have to rush home for some urgent work. Wife is demanding chicken pulav for dinner tonight, so I have to get some chicken. You know how tough a life of a husband is, being a husband yourself.
LTM: Sir, even I want to go home early today.
PM: Coolio! Finish off this project and off you go. I won't even ask. Tadaa!

The next day
PM: The Taj is still not ready! You morons! I gave you 3 whole days. Why is it still getting delayed!
LTM: Sir, we found some bugs in the code. There were some mistakes in the calculations.
PM: Arghh! There goes our annual bonus. Get it ready by today evening.

The next day Taj is delivered. 3 days later PM gets list of minor changes from Shah Jahan.
PM: Seems like you didn't do a great job LTM. Client is not happy. Here are his suggestions.
LTM: How much time for this?
PM: 3 hours.
LTM: But everything will change. Now it should look like the Colosseum. It's not possible.
PM: Good. Make it possible in 3 hrs. Shah Jahan is waiting.

5 hours later, Taj gets delivered and 2 months later it meets the dust. PM gets promoted and a raise while the LTM gets fired. No one knows how and why. People blame it on the US policy and recession.

----------

A learned friend of mine, who has keen interest in politics and who is excellent with numbers and other useful information in the field raised a point of how the culture of my/our [Maharashtrian] community is threatened, thanks to some other community's ego. How adamant this "foreign" community is in adapting to Maharashtra and it's language. How we are forced to speak "their" tongue since our school days and how we then start communicating with everyone in "their" language and not "our" language and how only we are forced to adapt and how they lead an easy life, in spite of their adamant nature.
1. Is this so-called "my" culture, so vulnerable and so fragile that some "foreign" community will just sweep it away, to the extent it becomes non-existent?
2. Has it caused any harm to me or anyone for that matter, when I was forced [as he put it] to learn the "other" language? Hasn't it instead, given me an opportunity to learn more about that "other" community, which itself boasts of so many scholars and artists?
3. If someone's ego isn't letting him adapt to another region and it's people and isn't letting him pick up another language, isn't it depriving him of an opportunity to learn something more?
4. Is there really a problem at all? Isn't this confusion just mindless and unnecessary? Is it just me or is it really that our so-called leaders give a damn about our country, our culture and they just intend to instigate people against each other?

He had 2 points:
1. If 10 Maharashtrians are talking and one "outsider" joins them, he'll want them to speak in Hindi, than trying to understand Marathi and adapt. So we speak in Hindi and he isn't at loss.
My point: What do I lose when I speak in Hindi? In fact, if I wanted to plot against him, I can do so in Marathi and he'll never understand a bit of it. His loss?

2. This "outsider" will never reach the South, since people do not speak his language over there. Although Bangalore and Chennai are equally developed, he'll choose Bombay [frankly, I hate to call it Mumbai].
My point: Isn't Bombay like the US? There are only immigrants here. People from all over the country have settled here. If they don't go to Bangalore and South, don't you see, the egos are not letting two different cultures mix? I would love to learn and understand a South Indian language someday. If they don't want to learn mine or any other, it really doesn't bother me. Imagine a person from other country coming to India and not understanding a word of Hindi or any Indian language; he gets duped anyway, but if he is still adamant to not learning an Indian language, he'll face a horror of a time. He will never understand the country and it's people, however long he stays here. Who is at loss?

----------

Unfortunately, I am not too smart to argue and I barely know statistics and figures to fight back. But then, I am also thankful that I don't. Ignorance allows me to be fair. Ignorance allows me to not develop any prejudices against any of my fellow beings. Ignorance lets me hate everyone equally.

Lessons From The Cubicle: Part 1

2009-01-22T20:25:00.008+05:30

Accept you are perfect. The work you do is flawless. You just cannot make any mistakes. Even if you are have consumed two bottles of vodka on an empty stomach and have smoked one kg of weed on the same night, the code you write in that state of mind [assuming you are still conscious and alive], can only be imitated by God. Bugs exist only in your neighbour's code. If anyone points out any bugs in your code, blame your subordinate or your co-worker for his outrageous application of logic but immediately cover his ass by blaming his incompetence on the personal problems he is facing [If he is married, his wife could be dying or he could be going through a rough patch in his married life. If he is single, then damn, you have limited choices], of which one should never speak about, especially to him or in front of him, as he had confided in you and only you and you cannot break his trust. Also you do not believe in gossiping about some colleague's personal life. This is important as he has to be ready to take the next blow. In case, you do not have a subordinate or co-worker, then put the blame on any other person from another department for giving you excess work. But your words should be such that the "bug-pointer" should feel humiliated and disgusted, all because of the person from that other department, whom he respected a lot to this day, till he committed the selfish act of prioritising his own work over the bug-pointer's. If you continue this for a while, then you would soon be successful in making the "bug-pointer" and the "guy-from-the-other-department" sworn enemies. It becomes interesting if both of them are close buddies. Husband and wives should never work in the same office but different departments. Only have sexual relationships with the people from other departments.

Remember always, you are God.

Delhi Murders Justified.. Almost

2009-01-17T18:23:00.010+05:30

Conversation between a bored jobless man [BJM] and a tired drunk wage slave [TDWS]:

BJM: Dude.. you read the report on the crazy reasons for which people were murdered in Delhi?
TDWS: No dude, there have been enough depressing things happening in my life these days.

[BJM starts anyway]

BJM: A waiter was killed for not serving papad!
TDWS: We have a papad killer!
BJM: Dude.. this guy can kill for papad. Can you imagine the respect he must be getting from the cooks in the cells! He must be standing right in front and shouting 'Yo! I can kill for papad'
TDWS:: I'd like to know what else he can do for a papad, man.

BJM: Someone was killed for not playing the "right" music at a marriage celebration.
TDWS: Dude.. one can't take more than two songs from Himesh. I am with the killer on this one.
BJM: Agreed.

BJM: A 14-year-old was battered to death with his own cricket bat by his 19-year-old friend, after he refused to admit he was out.
TDWS: Cricket is a game of passion dude. Justified.

BJM: Husband kills his wife for not washing his shirt.
TDWS: I am sure the husband wanted to test if the new detergent, Vanish, can really help vanish the DNA marks off the cloth.
BJM: Getting away with murder.. aah..

BJM: Failure to give bus direction.. I defend the guy
TDWS: Explain...
BJM: Just go to Pune and ask anyone for directions over there. 7 out of 10 times you'll get to the spot where you had met your "guide" and the other 3 times you'll be minimum 99.568 kms away from your intended destination.
TDWS: Well in that case the "guide", as you call him, should be smart. He should give you the wrong direction and should not be present: 1. where he was standing at the time of giving directions 2. where he has led you and 3. at your actual destination of course.
BJM: So when in Pune, you take directions from a shopkeeper.
TDWS: And carry Vanish detergent with you.
BJM: Of course.

Muddy Waters

2008-12-14T11:27:00.007+05:30

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

2008-12-11T23:24:00.002+05:30

[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

2008-11-28T10:04:00.003+05:30

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

2008-11-15T11:36:00.000+05:30

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

2008-11-03T01:54:00.002+05:30

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

2008-10-18T12:38:00.002+05:30

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]

2008-10-02T11:02:00.002+05:30

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

2008-09-11T23:21:00.000+05:30

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

2008-09-07T00:22:00.000+05:30

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

2008-08-22T18:55:00.001+05:30

Corniness is filling me
To the point of agony

Arghhhhhhh!

A Lost Song

2008-08-20T23:17:00.001+05:30

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

2008-08-01T19:12:00.002+05:30

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!

2008-07-29T11:31:00.002+05:30

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

2008-07-23T16:43:00.003+05:30

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

2008-07-11T16:38:00.004+05:30

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

2008-06-21T10:42:00.002+05:30

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...

2008-06-15T14:32:00.006+05:30

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

2008-06-13T11:53:00.006+05:30

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

2008-06-03T13:06:00.001+05:30

Parikrama - Open Skies

Say goodbye. Don't follow.

2008-05-25T00:51:00.003+05:30

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...

2008-04-27T08:03:00.005+05:30

... 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

2008-04-23T10:48:00.004+05:30

(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

2008-04-16T17:12:00.009+05:30

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

2008-04-13T07:49:00.004+05:30

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...

2008-04-07T18:23:00.006+05:30

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

2008-03-28T12:43:00.005+05:30

(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?

2008-03-25T10:43:00.003+05:30

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

2008-03-25T10:41:00.000+05:30

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

2008-02-24T02:40:00.003+05:30

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

Food For Thought? Just some fuckin' chaos!

2008-02-13T09:29:00.010+05:30

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!

2008-01-28T19:35:00.000+05:30

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.. " and 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 is 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

2008-01-24T19:13:00.000+05:30

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

2008-01-19T19:33:00.000+05:30

(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

2008-01-13T19:38:00.000+05:30

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?

Tick-Tock Waste Away!

2007-12-27T12:22:00.000+05:30

Wake up, switch off the fan, if the sun's not out already, switch on the light, switch on the desktop monitor and check if the last night's downloads are complete. Check your mail and switch off the monitor. Brush your teeth, enter the kitchen, make some tea, eat a bit, if you have time then do some exercise, go through the newspaper, clean yourself, head for work. Use the transportation if you must, wear on that ipod so you stay entertained while you travel or if you are lucky enough to find a vacant seat in the train, sit and read the half-read book. Reach work, exchange good mornings and begin the day. Work, take a break, chat a while, work again, eat your lunch, chat with the people on the other level, get back to your seat, back to work, finish off your day's task, switch off the computer, leave your office, head to the station, get in the train, defeat the chaos with the help of the ipod, head home, have dinner, make a phone call if you must, talk to someone if they have time, switch on the monitor, start a new download, have your dinner, enjoy the previous night's download if you must, read the half-read book, now go to sleep and end the day.

Now all the moments of breathing.

Open your eyes, see a new world, learn their language, adopt their gods, adapt to their styles, go to school, educate yourself, get a job, get married if you must, have kids if you must, retire from work, wait for the end. Most of the times, the fullstop might come right after opening the eyes or after seeing the new world or after getting to school or sometimes, if you are fortunate enough, even before all the pre-listed events.

Now let's analyse.

What is achieved? I read some of Victor Hugo's words on dear Raghu's blog the other day and it struck me that all we do is try to "utilise" time in the most productive way apparently. Now there are moments in the day when we are not really "utilising" this time or apparently when we have time to waste, like when we travel, when we take walks, when we are resting at home after work and then we need some means of entertainment. That is when we feel the need to do something with the time in hand.

Now let's revise every walk of life.

When we wake up and see the world for the first time, we probably have no clue what life has in store for us (and if you think about it, even after we no more belong to the living world, we had failed to understand life and what it had in store for us). But till we are shaped up to think like people around us, we are in someone else's hands to be taken care of. All the time we are surrounded by toys and books and all other means of education or mind-shaping objects which help us adapt to the world. So no matter what, all the time, right from the moment we open our eyes for the first time, till the moment we shut them forever, we are thinking of ways to pass this time we are gifted.

Let's analyse entertainment.

Can we say entertainment means something that you willingly do to keep yourself invovled when you have nothing else to do? Why do we work? To make a living? All this fight is to live. Why do we live? Nope. No answers. No one knows. I shouted out to someone the other day - stop judging and start living and now I ask myself when do I say I feel the life? Music, movies, cafes, hangouts, vodka, weed, cigs, books, work - list of the things we do that keeps us busy. Why do we feel the need of a companion? So we have someone to spend time with when no one's there. So we can stay "entertained" for the rest of our life and not die a sucker lonesome death, no matter if the person is left behind alone, no one wants to be left alone as then apparently one stops living as one does not understand what one wants to do with the time then. Travel, sing, strum, drink, eat, sleep, do sex, play, chat; everything is a means to spend time. Spend time or waste time? Is this the purpose of breathing? "Yes, go on to save others who are drowning if you have so much time in your stupid life", someone screams and I say, "And do what? Help them live? Live what?"

I am afraid to part from my gifts of life, part from my family, my friends, my guitar, my ipod, my so-called secured life just like you. We all are afraid, it's the fear of the unknown that haunts us and why does it haunt us so much? Cause we all are too much in love with our own selves. We are too busy thinking how to love ourselves more and more and waste time in loving ourselves. We waste all the time appreciating life that we actually forget life. We actually stop asking questions. We find it all a hopeless search when we try to find answers to questions like the purpose of existence as we get none. Maybe all these answers are right about us, maybe we are filled with them and they are made up of us or we are made up of them, maybe they lie within us and we just ignored them as we were too busy loving ourselves, distracting ourselves, entertaining ourselves. Maybe we all are just wasting time.

My Sacred Universe

2007-12-27T12:18:00.000+05:30

It used to be my
Sacred Universe.
It used to be my
Place to hide.
Untouched by the cruel outside
Never can you malign
Never can you be inside
My sacred universe.
Lost too much in days,
I'm lost too much in daze,
Waking up I try to see
My sacred universe.
Lost somewhere in time
But wait a while
I'll find that place of mine
My sacred universe.

Sun And Chaos

2007-12-27T12:09:00.001+05:30

Tired man sits here
Waiting for the day to end.
Night is taking too long to come,
Light is too harsh,
Eyes are too weak.
Oh brigt sun please go away!
I cannot resist these burns.
Oh sun the night is a bliss!
A dark escape,
Natural hide and we both know,
Rattled calm lays everywhere
In your head, in my life.
You run, I run;
Time stops we turn;
You run, I run;
Face to face now.
Oh sun bring on the night,
It is now too bright to hide.
Oh sun bring on the night,
Ashes and dust is all that's left.
Oh sun why you bring that wind
Carrying them away and spreading them across?
Oh sun why you show your might,
Why won't you let these grains unite?
Oh sun you bring on the night
It's just too bright
It's just too bright.

For Those About To Shop

2007-12-18T11:25:00.003+05:30

In first place I dread shopping for others (esp. for gifts) as I always have this feeling am buying something that he/she is surely going to dislike and will only find it as some burden that he/she has to carry home. Again if I am to shop for a guy, the list is limited to t-shirts, cds/dvds or some electronic gadget I can afford (which I normally can't so that's still an unused option). But I am listless when I am to shop for a female. It's not only scary (read the after-effects of disliking the shit you've gifted her) but also confusing as it somehow is impossible to understand the terms like 'cute' and 'sweet'. And most of the stuff I wear or possess is defined by the fairer sex as dull, boring, bland or other such 'whatever' terms.

Now a long time ago, in order that I understand a female mind better, I had thought of accompanying my dear friends, Bec and Rita, to a mall. I was soon to realize the only reasons they were thrilled by my presence was, now they had a person with them whom they can easily embarrass. Imagine taking you to a lingerie section, making you stand in the middle of the same and then disappearing in the changing rooms for twenty odd minutes, leaving the innocent you with their lady-purses to take care of! Talk about embarrassing times!

So from that day on, I've started staying million miles away from the ladies' section at a mall. But as they say, someday you have to face your fears, someday there's just no way out, nowhere to hide from them. It happened last Friday.

My sister turned 19 on the 1st of December and somehow I could find time only on the 15th of the month to meet her. I had initially planned to order this soft toy over amazon.com but it went out of stock by the time I was to place the order. So it was the 14th evening and I had nothing to gift her. I left from work early and headed straight to the nearby mall. I had no option, I first called RIta, but she'd left for some reception; then I called up Bec, "I need you to be here! Now!" But my dear friend wasn't to be there for me that day. Then I went through my phone list only to find I can call no one for help anymore. There I was, standing just outside the ladies' section, all by myself, with no aid and listless as ever.

Fortunately something struck me. I went to the cash counter, "I need assistance, preferably female". The dude over there gave me a suspicious look, "No females sir but the guy in the blue shirt in that right corner will assist you. Please approach him." I nodded my head and went ahead. I was pretty sure this assistant won't be of much assistance but I had little choice. Thankfully, my dear friend Bec had told me what size I should be looking at, so I had some information at least. "Hi, will you help me in buying a top for someone who would be around 5 feet 8 and a bit plummer to me?" I asked him. "Sir, a guy or a girl?" was the worst question he chose to ask. "A top is for a girl of course" I said. Dude, you are standing in a ladies' section, why would you ask such a question in first place? However, he was of big help as the very first top he picked up was the top I finally bought, but not before he took me touring the entire ladies section making me look at all the possible tops which would fit on a 5 feet 8 female, and all I kept telling was, "Nah! I like that I think I will buy that. Thanks anyway." Persistence I tell you. Well, I bought the top and I quickly headed to men's section, breathing the air of relief, feeling like a champion who's overcome one of his greatest fears! And I hope my dear sis liked the top.

Alright sister, hope you enjoyed the exaggerated story and of course the top. Love ya! :)

GMD

2007-12-17T09:03:00.000+05:30

Alright, Ms. Red convinced me last night to write this post somehow and well I was pretty keen on doing it myself as I've been tagged three times so far and I've never done the needful. So here I go on to shrug of the laziness and go on to type this out!

Rules:
1. Put your MP3 player on shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write the name of the song no matter what. No cheating!

IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY?” YOU SAY?
Since I've been loving you - Led Zeppelin
Ok this didn't make much sense, or did it?

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Welcome Home - Coheed and Cambria
Nope, really Red this isn't working for me I guess.

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Yesterdays - Guns n' fuckin' Roses
Really no! I wanna get rid of them my own self. Why will I be interested in someone else's yesterdays? Alright, I am to an extent or whatever!

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Blaze of glory - Jon Bon Jovi
Nope, not at all but the day's just started so lets see.

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Stairway to heaven - Led Zeppelin
Haha.. probably.

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Fray - Staind
Many will agree to this.

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
The wicker man - Iron Maiden
Ok I NEED to see this movie now so I know what they think of me!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Smiling not smiling - Porcupine Tree
Hmmm.. okaay.. next

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Angel - Aerosmith
Dark angel really. Ok whatever!

WHAT IS 2+2?
Home - Staind
NO SENSE AT ALL

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Sway - Lost Prophets
So far the MOST APPROPRIATE answer

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Blood brothers - Iron Maiden
True to quite an extent.. yes yes!

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Come as you are - Nirvana
Wtf.. who likes pretense anyway? It goes for everyone I'm sure

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Another brick in the wall - Pink Floyd
Haha.. ain't I already?

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Sugarcoat - Breaking Benjamin
Nah not really, I swear!

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Shayad - Call
Wtf! (one for answer)
Wtf! (This one for...) This song still exists in my stupid Ipod? It's such a rip-off. I thought it wasn't there!

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Famous last words - My Chemical Romance
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.. need I say more? I really should be saving my words eh!

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Gone - Switchfoot
FUCK! Hahaha! Yeah! Am sure there'll be celebrations all around!

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Money for nothing - Dire Straits
"Bang on!"

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
The ghost of navigator - Iron Maiden
Nope, I don't see no ghosts. I swear!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Beautiful girl (stay with me) - INXS
Too late!

WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?
Gaand mein dandaa - Bodhi Tree
Haha.. now isn't this appropriate!

Alright, although my readership has gone down miserably I go on to tag anyone who reads this, whether or not you have an Ipod, mp3 player, radio whatever. Don't tell me you don't listen to music. Just put on the shit and start typing sucker!

Joker And His Song

2007-12-10T11:18:00.000+05:30

Laugh, laugh, laugh aloud
Oh here he comes, the joke of the town.
Wearing his dirty black,
Keep laughing at his lack.

The magic-man has cast his spell,
"Oh joker go down burn in hell!
Take away all your crazy talks
Erase all your filthy marks.
Let them live their better lives,
Fuck off and don't you show the cry!
They have no time now for you here,
They are done with you,
Just disappear!"

Here comes the witch, oh joker dear
Hear her words, don't you fear.
"I gift you some paint, go buy a smile,
Paste it up, live your stinky life.
When we need you, we'll call you back
Use and rape you, you crazy man.
Till then just go hide away
We will fuck you another day!"

Oh joker now hear my say
Don't you waste time, don't you pray.
Crazy thoughts have killed your mind
Have blown away that crazy child.
Life though is a broken toy
Keep it with you, play a while.
One day you will know your sins
Then you won't be a joke again.

Of Bhajans, Trains And Metal

2007-11-19T11:07:00.000+05:30

Yes! God might feel happy when His so-called devotees scream prayers in his name in the ultra-crowded train compartments, but I definitely don't. I wouldn't have really mind had they been only screaming these prayers, but the fact that these guys use those screechy instruments and sing in embarrassingly high notes, reaching the levels that even the great classical singers cannot reach, forget the rock and metal band vocalists, really deafens me. I'm pretty much used to travelling in these Mumbai locals, which am sure would have brought any of those concentration camps to shame, (it's been 9 years now and having thrown off from the train a couple of times, you pretty much know what to do and what you definitely should not!), so after you fight with the crowd to find a place to just stand, you hear these screaming devotees accompanied by their ear-banging instruments so that He hears them and answers their god-damned prayers! To each his own I know, but it's universally accepted amongst His believers that He is omnipresent. If so, He is within me and I am not happy and hence He is not happy, so well, you are just angering Him! So in order that I am happy which will make Him happy ultimately (of course I'm so Heavenly inclined, my fans know) I quote to start a metal band which will sing songs only and only while they travel by train. I need a drummer who has the skills to use the train-ceiling and metal rods for percussion, a vocalist who can scream louder and hit higher notes than these devotee-singers, a lead guitarist and a bassist of course; I'll be playing the rhythm guitars and my swearing skills can come in handy when I provide back-up vocals (I am very innovative when it comes to swearing, my fans know this too). I intend to start a new genre of music calling it the "Train Metal" and the band's name, of course "Trainaalika" (Train-aali-ka - "Has the train come" literally). The title of the first song will be, you guessed it, "Holier than Thou". I just need to work on the lyrics a bit. Auditions start tonight, interested please apply! Thank you!

P.S.: Whether or not the band kicks-off tomorrow, auditions for groupies are always on. What is a rock band without groupies? They play an indispensable role in the band's performance - on-stage as well as backstage. So do you think you have it in you to be one? If so do not hesitate. Get in NOW!

"Unseen" chaos

2007-11-16T10:46:00.000+05:30

The crazy boundaries I never crossed,
Trapped myself in this world of fools.
That different sun I never saw,
This vision demented by you.
"Oh you spoiler you are so bright!"
The floating life, the darkest shadow, the flying dead and the almost complete.
Oh unheard chaos I reach for thee now, a parallel world I never saw.
An escape or just a different vision
I lift myself into my unseen.
This fool was lost in too much real
Feeling waste, collecting waste.
Dreams and visions come to life.
Limitless travel, death of sun, rise of sun;
Begin the life, side the life, end the life;
Oh I see a different moon.
Welcome!

Epiphany

2007-11-14T12:50:00.000+05:30

It's funny the joker never realizes when he becomes the joke.

Quote For The Day

2007-11-13T16:29:00.000+05:30

Enforced sincerity results in laziness.

Thoughts For The Day

2007-11-08T11:01:00.000+05:30

Relationships are like deodorant, once over you stink!

***

Procrastination is like masturbation, it feels good but finally you are just fuckin' yourself.

- contributed by a dear friend

Thought For The Night

2007-11-06T10:54:00.000+05:30

Time and again you cover yourself with night and cry there is no sun.
Time and again you choose to suffer and blame them for choking you.
Time and again you waste your is with was.

Meaningless

2007-10-29T16:57:00.000+05:30

Its birth in you is inevitable, it being prevalent in the air you breathe; I do not know if you are born with it, but it certainly comes to life the moment the new world begins to communicate with the untouched you. And then it grows; the more you see, the more you acquire, the more you breathe, the more it grows, the farther it spreads within you and then it stays in forever, nothing and no one can shake it off you, it rises to fanatic heights sometimes or it minimises to a bare perception but the unfortunate fact is that it will never die. It lives as long as you.

It's a new world for you and you try to look around and make sense of that glaring something, that later on will be defined as a face; soon the something called voice starts talking to you and then it starts filling your life. You are given a name, they tell you you are a boy, later on when you are to go to a school they tell you you more about you - "the teacher wil ask you your religion and then you say you are a Hindu" they instruct you, they also tell you the language you speak at home is something called as your mother-tongue and then there is language of the region - state and the nation - and these may not be the same as the tongue you speak - so they fill you with the information on the same - "Marathi, Hindi" and you gobble down the same. Then you are let on your own to be with different others.

Then you come across people from other sex; then you try to prove the superiority of your sex over them while they do the same; in later life you will continue to prove your superiority; in later life they will want to continue to feel superior. Then while you are growing up, your school divides you as per your performance. You are placed in A Group if you are amongst the best performers, the rest get B, C, D respectively. A will always be proud of being one and Bs will always strive for As while the lower ones will end up hating the rest. Eventually C and D Groups are looked down upon, while A Groups and B Groups walk away with pride - of course A Groups holding higher ego levels than B Groups. Till you die you are a proud student from A Group.

You grow up to enter the higher schools and you learn more about the word taught to you at a very young age - religion. Then the world outside also starts preaching you the importance of inculcating pride in yourelf on the previously unanalyzed terms - language and region. As you grow up you realize their importance as at every walk of life these are the things that go on to define your so-called destiny. Then terms like culture and ethics attain a new importance in your life.

You get a job and he starts on his own. You earn more and only ten years later his income doubles yours. You now despise what had made you once proud.

Every phase of your life you are taught to discriminate, you are taught to differentiate, you are taught to make that A stand before you, split him into multiple parts and then analyze him, judge him; like him or hate him as per your judgement. And then you are labelled a rascist, a sexist or a zealot sometimes. The ones who instil this pride in you are the ones who then condemn you.

Imagine impossibility - you wake up to realize you have no name, there is one colour, you have no religion, you have no nationality, there is one language spoken all over the land, one sex - well, end of existence?

Come back. The name, the sex, the language, the region, the race - collect the similar and stand with them - now still segregate yourself based on the number of siblings, the wealth, the years of education, the kind of occupation and every other so-called words that have made you, that go on to define you and there in the end you'll find only you - and now you are proud of being you - now you will fight for your ownself as now you have only you.

You Know You're Jobless When..

2007-09-05T16:27:00.000+05:30

1. You wake up at 6.30 am and say, "What am I doing up so early, even the sun is still to rise." So you go back to sleep.

2. You open your eyes at 8.30 am and see your dad waiting for you to wake up so you can deposit those cheques in the bank. So you pretend to sleep.

3. You wake up at 10.30 am and find two eyes staring at you with the expression shouting "you should be ashamed of yourself".

4. It's 12 noon and you are in the bank and depositing the cheques or withdrawing cash (definitely not for your purpose) which daddy dearest had wisely left on your desk while you'd again dozed off.

5. It's 1 pm and you are in the market selecting which vegetables to buy.

6. It's 3.30 pm and you plan to take a nap as the staring eyes are resting too. Phew!

7. It's 5 pm and you are expected to make tea.

8. It's 5.30 pm and you are deciding which movie to download.

9. It's 5.45 pm and you have decided which movie to download.

10. It's 6 pm and you feel the urge to type out something like a post in your blog.

11. It's 7 pm and you are haunted by the expectations of doing something about your career and life.

12. It's 7.15 pm and you are feeling ultra lazy to go down and switch off that water-pump button.

13. It's 7.30 pm and your friend calls up to ask you "How is it going? Are you free tonight? Oh sorry. Hahaha". Yes my friend, very funny!

14. It's 7.45 pm and your friend again calls up to ask the reasons for not meeting him for dinner when you have nothing to do and have been home all day.

15. It's 8 pm and your guilt comes to eat you alive. But laziness still rules!

16. It's 8.15 pm and you are thinking of blogging again.

17. It's 8.30 pm and you go on to update your resume on the job sites instead.

18. It's 9 pm and you just don't feel like eating dinner with guilty conscience and those staring eyes killing your appetite.

19. It's 10.30 pm and you are yawning and deciding whether to sleep early today and end the misery or to stay up and chat with friends a while and make life better.

20. It's 10.45 pm and you are still undecided of the above.

21. It's 10.48 pm and you finally decide to sleep.

22. It's 11 pm and you are finding it impossible to sleep.

23. It's 12 am and you are praying for the night to pass out soon.

24. It's 5.30 am and you shut down the alarm and go back to sleep.

.. And It Happened

2007-09-03T15:58:00.000+05:30

Yes I want to celebrate this day cause finally it happened. I don't know how, but I guess it was due for a long time now. Oh yes, cause I'd nearly forgotten what it is like to be asleep at night!

After God knows how many months I slept like a baby yesterday. It was such a peaceful sleep, yes dreams did occur to disturb the peace to an extent but there were happy moments in the dreams too. I woke up with a wide grin and this was another amazing aspect of this sleep.

Last week was a crazy week I must say, so this was well deserved; at least this week has begun well.

Last Monday, after a real jeaded weekend I'd gone to work wearing a real pathetic face. Tuesday began well as the Rakhi I'd worn did bring smiles to my face everytime I looked at it. Hence I'm yet to take it off my wrist. Also the clients were highly impressed by my presentation and so my boss kept patting me every now and then. Then it got irritating and I mildly told him to stop touching me.

Then came Wednesday, the day which went on to shock me and made me finally realise the intention of my friend when she keeps making that statement "you are not that important". This was the day that I understood the meaning of that statement. Thank you Sangy! C'mon, it's not everyday that you wake up with a job and go to sleep without one. Yes things went messy at work and before they could fire me from being their employee, I fired them from being my boss. But all the hugs and kisses I got from my group at work made things easy for me.

Thursday assured me that the week is going to end on an amazing note as my entire group from office called me up saying that even they had resigned. It was touching. Well they had their own reasons like going abroad for studies too, however everyone had resigned more than a week prior to the date they'd mentioned in their resignation letters. So entire Thursday went in bitching about the politics at work and how it went on to affect our work but how it ended up bringing all of us closer.

Friday, I started my sketching tutorials and in the afternoon I got a call for an interview, which was to be on Sunday. So rest of the day went in making preparations for the same, updating my CV etc. Saturday I had made plans to meet so many people, ended up staying home all day long and getting bored, but the interview on Sunday kept me excited.

The much awaited Sunday came and I opened to check the address of the office - it was in the same building as my very first office and it was on the same floor, just two doors away. I reached there at 12 sharp waiting for someone to unlock the gate of the building. It was a Sunday! Whoever has an interview on Sunday! Anyway, the humble interviewer did come at 12.30 finally. Thanks to the heat, I'd already started sweating like a pig. But Adidas Sports Deos rock! Interview went on for four and a half hours.

Now this was definitely the funniest of interviews I'd ever been to. No sooner did I enter that office that I had already decided of not taking up this job. But since I had nothing to do till 7 pm, I thought of just going through the same. After a series of idiotic questions later (Who all are there in your family? What does your father, mother, brother, uncle, aunt, grandmom, niece, nephew and rest of the relatives do for living? Tell me about your educational background. Why did you take up law when you wanted to enter this field? What are your strengths, weaknesses, hobbies?) Finally he cared to open my CV and felt guilty of having wasted so much of his time asking questions, as most of the answers were already present in the same. Then he arranged a small test for me. "Design a layout for me and make any two links". Two hours later I gave him a fully functional website. He tried to challenge my logic and I ended up explaining him how his own logic needed "debugging". He thanked me for the same. Then he sweetly arranged a small lunch for me. I hungrily ate the toast sandwich and gulped down Appy. Appy makes me happy! Okay sad joke, let's move on. Then there was another short interview where he went on to show his website and asked me what he thought of the animation. I calmly told him in my sweetest of words that it was abuse of space. Shocked to the core on hearing such an arrogant remark he dared me to justify my remark. I successfully told him how he could've better used the space with some high quality images or wireframe animation. Shutting the site right away he then went on through my work and went on to ask me two of the most ridiculous questions.

Him: Why do you want to work?
Me: Why will I not want to work?
Him: What?
Me: You tell me.
Him: I meant some people work for money, some for timepass. Why do you want to work?
Me: Money and passion both... and it went on.

Then he cracked another one:

Him: What all can you do for the company?
Me (in my head): It depends on what all the company can do for me too. Besides I'm not giving you no blowjobs, handjobs; and am not ready for threesomes, foursomes, sandwiches if it involves any other guy than me in it.
(But the words that came out of my mouth) I will work for the company. (But I couldn't hold back my smile).
Him: I meant will you execute your ideas or the client's ideas?
Me (in my head again): It's time you realize you are dealing with an arrogant cunt here.
(But what I said instead was) Mine.
Him: How do you expect to sell the work then if you don't listen to the client.
Me: (I wanted to be specific now) I do not believe in executing anyone else's ideas. Neither yours, nor clients. I will execute my ideas.
Him: Why? Do you think your ideas are so good?
Me: Let me correct you there. I do not believe in good or bad when it comes to art. It is all about perception.
(A wicked grin developed on my face when he said "Explain")
You see, art is all about expression. It is not right to judge art. Again art is subjective. What you think is good may be my worst work or the other way round. I cannot like your kind of music and you won't be able to stand what I call music.
(Surprisingly he got the point)
Him: That's a good point. But how then will you sell your design if the client has other requirements.
Then I went on to explain him the importance of embedding marketing skills in your talks while selling your piece of art and manipulation of client's mind. He heard me intently. He agreed to most part of it, or I like to think so as I could make out from the expressions on his face.

Then he asked for the pay and that is when it ended for him.. I meant me. I wasn't ready to negotiate my pay "I deserve it" I said. Then a brief minute of silence later we had a contract deal worked out. So we both were satisfied after saying goodbyes.

Then I headed to meet my office group. After a nice two and a half hour wait later, I was blessed with their company and did we have a good time! Finally when it struck midnight and when too many folks were getting worried about their "kids" we decided to make a move. I was assigned to drop off this friend at Powai and after I safely escaped the dogs, I faced the cops.

Four of them stopped me and asked me for my license. Now when you are tired and when your parents are threatening to disown you for making them stay up so late, you kind of feel this rush in your feet to get home. Cops pulling you over for drunken driving is the last thing you expect, especially when you haven't even smelled alcohol since December 24th, okay August 4th, but I'd really just smelled alcohol on that day! So yes, when I took off my helmet in frustration, I didn't intentionally bang the same on the standing cop's shoulder. But he felt offended and went on to smell my mouth. He was trying so hard to smell that that was never consumed, that I wanted to burp on his face, but Raghu never taught me the technique of faking a burp. Damn you Raghu! Disappointed the cops let me go. Came home and some old friends were online. A nice chat later I was feeling really relieved. Made my bed and I slept like a baby! Finally the sleep cometh! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Diary Of An Insomniac

2007-09-01T13:24:00.000+05:30

I hate to convince people. I believe everyone must have the freedom to look at this world in their own way. People who try to convince others or who try to bestow their thoughts upon others are just trying to manipulate others' vision. It is making the person to see things in other direction deliberately and this I vote as manipulation of mind. Everyone should just be let alone. Everyone has been given a particular set of things when he/she is born; everyone then has to make the most out of these things and start their lives and finally live their lives. Thus everyone's growth is affected by one's surroundings.

Now imagine a world where this manipulation never has taken place. Will my and your life be the same? Imagine a world where you are born alone, no one to depend on right from your birth, there is never a need to communicate with anyone at all, all you need is you and no one else. Won't it be such a happy place? Now here, by happiness I mean peace of mind cause I strongly believe that it is not happiness that we seek but it is peace of mind that is ultimately sought. So if we were just born deaf and dumb and alone, we were to be indifferent in a harmless way to everyone around us, won't there be just peace all over? True that then may be man may never evolve as he will be always satisfied and satisfaction applies a full-stop to man's so-called progress. But have we progressed at all? Look at the beauties man claims to have created, have they really given us that happiness we so always long for? Look at people around us, how we love them, hate them, try to be good to them or even bad to them, look how much of our life is affected by them. Now if we stop to communicate at all then there will be no pain, there will be no hatred and there will be no confusion. But do we stop? No. When one person quits our life we latch on to some other person and then we find excuses in statements like "we need each other". How fake is that? We ourselves have developed this perception that we need a person, a certain someone to make our lives happy, to make our lives meaningful, to make it worth living, but in the process of finding this someone, we tend to let go of our own life, our thoughts, may be our morals, our duties; now yes, duties towards whom you say - well duties towards yourself. I curse myself for being selfish and self-centered, but then I look back and analyze the number of lives this selfishness has gone on to affect. Now one day I might just say that "Oh it hasn't really harmed anyone" but isn't that my perception? How can I be sure that it has not hurt anyone - this selfish nature of mine? Then I start judging everyone and I realize everyone is selfish; it is impossible to not be selfish; every deed is selfish and so many times it goes on to affect my life - sometimes in a good way and sometimes in a horrible way. Now again I go back to the "good and bad theory". Isn't it just an illusion? Everyone's definition of good and bad differs and the events that take place around you are just rated as "good" or "bad" as one chooses to see them. That is when convincing a person comes into picture. If a person chooses to ignore a particular incident as this goes on to affect his/her life in a way (good or bad is his/her way of looking at it again but one normally tends to ignore that which affects one in a bad way), then I do not understand an attempt to convince this person to see the things the other way; it is not a question of worth, it is not a question of love; it is just a question of freedom. Every person is on his own, free to think. I can only explain my way of looking at a thing. Everyone has their own eyes and I believe that everyone should just look at the situation by their own eyes; blinding yourself and agreeing to other person's vision is foolishness. Everyone has their own way of looking at things, everyone has their own way of judging matters and all this is affected by the way the person views his/her own life and his/her own surroundings. No two surroundings are similar and no two lives are similar, how can then two perceptions be similar? How can then two minds be similar? How can then one have the right to manipulate other's thoughts? I say it is an insult as then, you are deprived of your freedom to think and hence, it goes on to affect your freedom of choice. Sorry, I am not here to convince anyone, this is just my perception of looking at this world. I don't intend to manipulate your thoughts now but expression isn't manipulation, or is it?

Chuck Palahniuk (Quotes from Fight Club)

2007-09-01T01:07:00.001+05:30

It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

****

If you woke up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

****

On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

****

Losing all hope was freedom.

****

Marla Singer, she's like the scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if you just stop tonguing it but you can't.

****

Marla’s philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment, the tragedy she said is that she didn’t.

****

No fear, no distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter, truly slide.

****

Now, a question of etiquette; as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch?

****

I say stop being perfect, I say let's evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.

****

The things you own, they end up owning you.

****

Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction..

****

Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.

****

First you have to give up, first you have to know, not fear; know that someday you're gonna die.

****

The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes, like the first monkey shot into space! Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing.

****

Stop trying to control everything and just let go.

****

To My E-Siblings

2007-08-28T10:09:00.000+05:30

Although I represent the typical insatiable and non-content breed of human species, the one thing that I've got in abundance in these last few years without asking for much is this priceless love from my e-sisters. Although I was blessed with an elder brother, I'd always longed for a sister. I'd seen my friends irritating their sisters and I'd always longed to do so. However, it was only after 20 years that I got this opportunity. It was the day when I made my first online friend. Now this female started giving me advices at random pace, helped me get through a really confused phase (not that these phases don't go on to haunt me anymore but that was a forgetful moment nonetheless that she helped me get over). Few years later there again came a moment when I craved for constant attention and I got a very unlikely scrap on the notorious? Orkut saying, "You look like an interesting dude". Scared to the core I instantly rated her as my sister. Silly yes, but there developed an incredible bond, thanks to which I can irritate this person even at 2 am and demand her to "talk"! Then a few months later another kid on the "blog" was introduced to me and her kickass attitude made her my "instant-friend". Later on, as I got to know this mad-hatter, I realised that it is impossible to irritate her and impossible to crib before her for more than ten minutes. It is amazing the way she changes the mood. God bless her. Then just sometime back I met this kid whose birth date falls just two days before mine. Now I was born just four years and one day after my brother and this female was born 10 years and one day before my brother. Some weird calculations and assumptions later I arrived at the fact that she was surely one of my sisters who'd gone missing while we were wandering in the notorious? Kumbh Mela in our dreams.

Today being Raksha Bandhan, when every generous brother gifts his sister with material gifts and every other form of distraction, the cheap but thoughtful me decides to dedicate this beautiful post in the name of my e-sisters. The gift I type may not be valued in terms of money, but the love that this post tries to reflect is totally priceless.

Swati didi: Years ago we came close as we had nothing to do (that was virtually everyday) but sit home and crib about miseries that surrounded us. Years later, as and when we get time, we mail each other cribbing about the miseries surrounding us. Once in a while we do type in about the happy events too but ah well, we like to stay dejected. Here is to Swati didi for all that she's ever done for me without asking for anything at all. It means a lot to know you are still around whenever I need you. Can you believe it's been four years now? Yes! Been four years and counting and am still to get the Bhel from you! :P

Dividee: My dearest of dear sister. It's incredible - the relation we share. It would have been impossible to get through the past year and a half without your presence. All the 100 mail chains we shared have helped google detect the limitation of gmail and am sure even they are thanking us for the same. Thank you for all the smiles and the attempts at kicking my ass; though it's been so long, they still remain attempts. Yes div, somethings are just not "divically" possible. Wake up to the reality and start accepting the fact. Finally, stop copying me, get your own style! :P

Sneha: My kickass sibling - rather my ass-kicking sibling. The only one who can really take my case. Thou art blessed! Thou art incredible! And thou art badly missed. In your own way you've helped me change my perception towards life and explained how it is never a huge deal. Although you've never really helped me hit on your "heard about" hot sister, you've helped me in lot of other things for which am thankful about. Thank you for all the crazy times, hope to relive them soon. :)

Anasua: Yes you made it here! Although I've hardly talked to you, I've somehow always talked to you as I would if I were to have a real kid sis. Thank you for all the laughs and for tolerating the torture and chaos that me and Raghu used to create on your blog. It was a weird attempt to make you one of us. And I hope we succeeded in our lame attempt. Stay close, we are still to irritate you to our heart's content. Its still undone. :P

Finally, all the crazy times that I've ever shared with you guys are always remembered and every moment is treasured. Though I've cribbed about not having a million things in my life, I've never failed to thank Him for having blessed me with the "you" who have done everything possible to better this life for me. Here is a thanks to you, though it will never be enough. But c'mon, accept the limitations of your brother in expressing his thoughts and finding the right words for the moment. (This defect is also due to his limited vocabulary. Forgive him :P).

Thank you guys.

Love ya!

Bass And Guitar Binge

2007-08-23T16:55:00.000+05:30

This has been my favourite video for quite sometime now. Enjoy Jason Newsted and Kirk Hammet. Many vote Cliff Burton to be better than Newsted but I prefer the latter's style.

Song For The Day

2007-08-23T15:00:00.000+05:30

Metallica - Whiskey In The Jar

As I was going over the Cork and Kerry Mountains
I saw Captain Farrell and his money he was countin'
I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier
I said "Stand and deliver or the devil he may take ya"
I took all of his money and it was a pretty penny
I took all of his money yeah and I brought it home to Molly
She swore that she loved me no never would she leave me
But the devil take that woman, yeah, for you know she tricked me easy
Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da
Whack for my daddy-o
Whack for my daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar-o
Being drunk and weary I went to Molly's chamber
Takin' my Molly with me, but I never knew the danger
For about six or maybe seven in walked Captain Farrell
I jumped up, fired my pistols, and I shot him with both barrels
Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, ha, ya
Whack for my daddy-o
Whack for my daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar-o
Yeah, whiskey, yo, whiskey...
Oh-oh, ya
Now some men like a fishin', but some men like the fowlin'
Some men like to hear, to hear the cannonball a-roarin'
But me, I like sleepin', `specially in my Molly's chamber
But here I am in prison, here I am with a ball and chain, yeah
Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, ha, ya
Whack for my daddy-o
Whack for my daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar-o
Whiskey in the jar-o
Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da
Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, hey
Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da
Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, ya

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

I hate the Thin Lizzy version (the original one). I think Metallica have covered it brilliantly!

Lines For The Moment

2007-08-18T21:04:00.000+05:30

I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me

Pearl Jam (Wishlist)

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I wish I was the verb 'to trust' and never let you down

Pearl Jam (Wishlist)

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I've eaten the sun so my tongue
Has been burned of the taste
I have been guilty of kicking myself in the teeth.
I will speak no more of my feelings beneath

Alice In Chains (Down In A Hole)

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Thank you to the people in my life
For putting up with me
And thank you for the time you sacrificed
All on account of me

For all the times i didn't say

Fuck you to the jaded and the fake
Like to see what you would do
Fuck you and the judgements that you make
We're not all perfect just like you,
Like you, like you

Staind (Intro)

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Maa Kasam Duniyawaalon..

2007-08-17T15:25:00.000+05:30

Yeh sab mere saath hi kyon hota hai? Har Hindi movie mereko bataati gayi ki ishq-vishq-pyar-vyar meri bas ki baat nahi. Phir bhi mujhe pyar kyon hua? Hua toh hua, usko merese pyar kyon nahi hua? Yaar har ek movie mein toh aisa hi hota hai na, ladka ladki pe fida hota hai, phir ladki bhaav khaati hai, phir ladka uske peeche padta hai, phir ladki kaise toh uske bichaaye hue jaal mein phas jaati hai, mein toh jaal beechaane se pehle hi ladki bhaag jaati hai, yeh kaisa insaaf hai!

Chalo bachpan ki baat karte hai, school mein jis bandhi se pyaar hua, uspe mera acha sa dost bhi fida ho gaya. Mein bada dilwaala hoke apne dost ko chance maarne ko diyaa. Phir wahi dost ne yeh bandhi ko kalti maarke kisi doosri ko pakda. Mein bhadak gaya, aur phir se ispe line maarne lag gaya. Lekin mein apni jabaan kholne se pehle hi yeh bandhi Canada chali gayi! Bedard zamaana sirf tamaasha dekhta reh gaya!

Yaar ek baar ek achi ladki mili thi meri college mein, mein socha chalo usko pataane ki koshish karun, toh mera dost aata hai aur bolta hai, "Yaar woh kya mast hai na? Mereko bahut pasand hai. Tereko kya lagta hai?" Meine dosti ke liye apne pyaar ki kurbaani de di. End mein na woh mujhe mili na mere dost ko. Hum dono humaare dukh ke aasoon ab tak paunch rahein hai.

Phir bahut saalon baat koi class mein ek bandhi aayi, achi lagi, uska koi boyfriend nahi hai sunke dil ko sukoon mila. Ek din usko pyaar se ghuur raha tha mein, ki achanak doosra dost aaya aur bola, "Yaar woh kya mast hai na". Saala! Zindagibhar kya dosti ke liye kurbaani hi deta rahoon! Mein bola, "Hadh hai yaar! Tu doosri pakad. Isko kal date pe aati hai kya karke puchega". Log kitna selfish hote hai, kabhi koi mere baarein mein bhi socho yaar. Toh doosre din mast ban than ke gaya class mein, par yaar woh ladki hi gayab thi. Chalo mereko laga agli baar puchega mein. Lekin yeh bandhi ek mahine baad class mein aayi. Bahut khush lag rahi thi. Mera dil bola, "Acha mauka hai" aur mera jawan dil aagey badha. Usko bola, "Yaar terese baat karni hai". Aur woh boli, "Mereko bhi tujhse baat karni hai". Mein socha, "Haila!" aur bola, "Haan haan, tu bol na. Mein rukta hai". Toh woh boli, "Yaar meri engagement ho gayi. Yeh dekh anguthee. Haan ab tu bol." Mein usko sirf "congratulations" karke apne aasun pite hue waapis gaya. Kya socha kya paaya dil ne...

Ab tai kiya, kabhi pyar nahi karunga, kabhi kisiko apna dil nahi doonga. Mera dil mere paas hi rahega!

Phir aaye woh ghane din jab mein sirf career ke peeche pada tha aur kidhar bhi nahi jaa raha tha. Par mera dil mere paas tha. Lekin pyaar toh hona hi thaa. Woh aayi aur mere dil phisal gaya. Mere saath saath mere dost ka bhi dil phisalna hi thaa. Saal beet gaya magar hum dono mein se usko koi pataa na saka. Itne time mein usko kisi aur ne pataa liya tha! Humaraa pyar wahi samapt ho gaya.

Phir dil kameena thaa. Bachpan ki dost pe phisal gaya. Usko jab iska doubt aaya toh usnein jaldi se apna shaadi manaa liya.

Dil ro uthaa, cheekh uthaa. Mein use sambhal na paya. Kisine mujhe sahaara diya. Dil phir se kameena bana. Jisne mujhe sambhaala, usko hi chahaane laga. Ikraar kiya inkaar mila, dil toot toot ke choor ho gaya! Magar ab yeh dil nahi royega. Kyon ki usdin meine sunaa jo Sonu Nigam ne kahaan, "Humko maalum hai ishq maasoom hai". Toh haan, mera ishq bhi utnaa hi maasoom hai duniyawaalon, toh phir yeh dard kyon? Kyon duniyaawalon kyon?

AstroTales

2007-08-12T08:50:00.000+05:30

Exactly 28 years ago, the "Astrology Inc." celebrated the birth of this baby boy who was predicted to give them the business that an astrologer can only dream of. The birth timing itself was a major controversy; let's blame it on the doctors and nurses who were helping his mother deliver the child, they were so busy handling the baby that they almost ignored the EXACT time when this child was born! They just did not care! They must've thought, "Yeah well, what difference will a second make anyway. The kid was born at 7.15 pm or 7.16 pm or even 7.15 am, the fact is that a new life has arrived and do hell with the timings!" But the astrologers literally capitalized on this issue and stated 2 stories - one each based on the two different seconds that the baby must've come into this world. (I have strong doubts that this baby entered this world in some third undisclosed second, based on which a secret kundli was designed, which was really accurate and which is held as a closely guarded secret by the astrologers all over the world.) So this baby's life was manipulated in all ways in order to protect him from the list of predicted maladies. It was a defensive approach held by the scared parents with the only intention of protecting their first born.

Four years and a day later the "Astrology Inc." again had a wide grin on their faces as the same house experienced the birth of another baby boy. A quick secret meeting later the astrologists had decided upon the maladies and misfortunes that were to be incorporated in this baby's kundli. Based on the same, a list of warnings was made:

1. There are high chances of him getting drowned in water so keep him away from water bodies. Do not teach him to swim as there are chances of him drowning in the swimming pool itself.

2. Keep a track of his friends as he is bound to fall in bad company and there are chances that he may end up wasting his life.

3. Keep him away from girls. Although he may get excellent friends in girls, he will be tricked by this female who will take advantage of his love for her and will ruin his life in every way.

4. He has got a weak stomach. Do not let him learn any form of martial arts or do not let him be involved in any kind of physical sport.

5. He is bound to meet with a horrible accident if he rides a vehicle. Beware!

6. He will attain success only if he stays in commerce field.

7. He will be dependent on his parents and peers for most of his life as he won't be rich.

The scared parents again took a protective approach and obediently followed all the instructions that the astrologer had given them.

1. He never was allowed to go near the sea. He was never allowed to join swimming. He developed a fear of water and no one knew why.

2. He was not allowed to seek admission in school of Commercial Arts as the artists might have a bad influence on the child. The images of artists holding beer mug in one hand and the cancer stick in another was painted before him.

Also commerce was chosen for number of reasons:
a. He would be successful only if he were to follow a career in commerce field.
b. The college was just two buildings away from the place where he stayed, so the company he keeps will be checked at all the times.

3. He was always a shy guy and had never talked to a single female for 17 years of his life, so when he was nearly friends with a female for the first time, her background was thoroughly checked.

4. He was never allowed to join any martial arts schools.

5. He wasn't allowed to drive vehicles beyond a certain area, let's say that area was the suburb he stayed in.

One fine day the boy realised that he wasn't really happy with the way his life was shaping up, so he decided to undo it all and start all over again. He got his kundli studied and to his amusement, it spoke accurately of his past life but only predicted his future. However, it only spoke of his life if it were to go on one designed course and the only prediction that he got for living his life otherwise was "you will fail". Then he thought over the definitions of failure and success and deleted the terms altogether from his dictionary. He redefined the words "right" and "wrong" for himself and he took the responsibility of staying truthful to them.

He jumped in the ocean and floated on the water, it didn't kill him. Time and time again he did the same, he is still alive and typing. Once in a while the nightmares of the ocean coming alive to eat him do ruin his sleep but that won't kill the love he has for the sea now.

He quit his field of commerce and started sketching. He still does and he doesn't care if that is a mistake. He enjoys doing the same.

He boxed his heart out with the walls in his room and he never suffered anything more than a few weeks of sore knuckles.

He's met with innumerable accidents so far, but he rides on.

However, he still does depend upon his family for virtually everything and he is ashamed of it. But he plans to grow up soon.

The very fact that I am scared of astrology proves my belief in the same. I am not against it and I do not defy it; but I hate the fact that its influence goes on to manipulate one's life many a times. A prediction made jokingly or made after some serious studies may just come true. But finally it is just that - a prediction.

Things That Irritate Me

2007-08-06T09:37:00.000+05:30

After a real forgetful morning and series of forgetful incidences that have already been happening and overshadowing all the happiness since the start of July, all I want to do now is crib, crib and crib some more and I'm not stopping there!

1. a) I hate to make plans.
b) I hate it when I still go on to make plans and they don't work out as I want them to.

2. I'm not a movie buff but once in a while when I reach a cinema hall, I hate to see that stupid "house full" board hanging there and people outside selling the tickets in black at obscene rates!

3. As aforementioned, I'm always outta plans and when I design one, I intend it works out, if not I never have any back-up plans to fall back on. So if you are the unfortunate one accompanying me, please don't hate me for failure of the original plan, I am already suffering.

4. Society - there are number of reasons that I hate it but as someone suggested, hating it just gives it unnecessary attention and importance, so just ignore it and be indifferent towards it. I do try my best to do so but well it goes on to irritate my family, it goes on to affect me indirectly.

5. My miserly ways (but they prevail for some undisclosed reasons).

6. People asking me to justify my miserly ways.

7. People failing to understand what am trying to quote.

8. a) When I justify myself and people still fail to see things my way!
b) Me expecting people to see things my way

9. The disorganized life that I'm currently leading.

10. People saying "hey bhaggu" for "hey bhagwan".

11. People telling me to execute their ideas.

12. People attempting to control my ideas.

13. Unsuccessful attempts at making irritated people smile and getting impatient and screaming at them in the process.

14. Being a bore.

15. Getting irritated by blogging about things that irritate me.

Just A Thought

2007-08-04T13:35:00.001+05:30

Once the rains are gone, will the rocks miss the moss?

Wish You Were Here

2007-06-28T22:40:00.000+05:30

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

2007-06-16T23:42:00.000+05:30

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.

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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...

2007-06-10T05:49:00.000+05:30

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.