Bangalore revisited

Its been less than 7 months since I left Bangalore behind but its all that I can think of now and my craving to return is growing stronger by the minute. Now, I’m fairly certain that this post might be prematurely ended due to my short attention span and my addiction to movie re-runs; which I must say is despicable because I’ve been repeating movies that I’ve watched a zillion times! Sometimes, I even remember the dialogues that is to follow but then, I’m addicted to re-runs and that’s all that I’m doing these days. I’m supposed to be working, reading, following up with dad on my marriage arrangements and other grave matters that need my attention but all I do whenever I find time is port into my hard drive full of movies that I’ve downloaded over the past 3 years and browse through. I then find a movie I’d like and there you have a re-run! Its suddenly hit me that around 10 days of leaves have sped by with me doing nothing but movie re-runs, a couple of books and some other things in general; which I must say I absolutely HAD to do. Like take a small stroll, stare at the gym from outside and contemplate an entry, stare at the Dubai skyline from my terrace and think about things, daily chores in the bathroom and a couple of stray discussions with the store manager at Madina super market, Bur Dubai.

I’d also like to bring to my notice the evident and seemingly alarming distance from human contact. So I have this room and I am in it. Its got everything you need. Split AC, a fridge, a bathroom, a bed, the internet and windows which you need not open! Its the perfect place to bury yourself and never be seen again. Hell yeah! That’s what I’ve been going through for the past 5 odd days and its silenced me from the inside. Sometimes, I even feel like I don’t have a shadow! What the fuck? Its so pissed at my lethargy that it went on a stroll by itself. I catch up to it overtime though. I’m scared of being alone in this cold desert. Don’t leave me alone, ehh? Things haven’t moved since the time I got in and I don’t intend on moving them into the cupboard because this room would then creep me out more. I haven’t turned the lights off in over 5 days – again cause it scares me every now and then. The new apartment is gorgeous no doubt but every once in a while it seems like Room 1408 in that movie. The one where they had a dead ghost living somewhere amongst its tiles. Damn! I’m going to have another sleepless night today. I’m hoping for work and hard labor to fix this problem. Work will commence tomorrow after an excruciating gap of 10 days and Boy! am I happy.

I’ll set aside the ramble for now and keep it for another date. As the topic suggests the aforementioned wasn’t my prime topic of discussion for today. It was Bangalore. If there was anyone who was following this blog and reading every now and then if not always, you’d note my obvious love for Bangalore. There aren’t any grave reasons for this. I just like the city for no reason. It seems like my place to be and the city where I’d finally settle down. I’ve lived a dreamy life there and come to think of it now, I’ve never been as alone as I am today. Again, loneliness is a state of mind and it can be easily overcome… yada yada yada!! Blargh, up yours with all that mumbo jumbo. I had friends there. However little they be, they were there. I didn’t meet them as often as I’d want to but then its ok, you know? It was enough that they were around. This post is dedicated to those glorious 18 months that I spent in Bangalore AFTER wrapping up a masquerading bitch of a period in Pune. A few clicks full of memories…

A lot of pictures have been left behind and I guess I’d track back to them a few months down the line. I’m sure my homesickness would just keep growing until the day I decide to return once and for all. From the looks of it, that day isn’t too far. I’ve always known that I wasn’t meant to be out of India and these days that I spend outside of my motherland yell an affirmative to my precognized notion. Point being, I’ve had people like Kuttapi, Ammu and Radha aunty who were MORE than my own family (trust me; in a lot of different ways), I had friends like Chetan and Ajay. These are probably the coolest people I’ve ever known. Anymore cooler than this and that’d make them backstabbing bastards. A karaoke pub that would let me sing and people who really did not care how you sang as long as you had the balls to do it! An opportunity to listen to Ajay sing "Smells like Teen spirit" and "Angels" AND rocking on both accounts. Chetan and me walking on the street and bursting out with streams of teared laughter at the aunty who let one go! Abhi and his very regular visits. The writers club and those emails that were exchanged. I can go on and on and on. Reasons aplenty for why I loved that city and how much I long to go back.

Now, the most obvious question is – Then why the fuck are you still stuck there? Well, you got to know this – a typical middle class mans life is full of a series of different kinds of shit – obligatory shit, responsibility shit, you-live-in-a-society-shit amongst others. I’m not different. As stuck as can be in a mud puddle which is grippy and ruthless. Questions like, "Ahhh, you’re back so soon?" with the "What a loser! tssk tssk" kinda face. "But son, you shouldn’t have wasted an opportunity like this!" You need more? I have more – "What?? You’re getting married – you need the cash! Don’t be a whiney loser like XYZABC, hang on!" Finally, the peach, "Damn! you got laid off, didn’t you?" I’m too scared of these questions and I don’t wish to fall down in order to answer them. Guess we all get fucked by the society one way or another. I’ll just deal with it for a while and fly back when I feel its time and when I’m no more part of a society that knows me.

Well, apart from these teeny weeny problems life pretty bright. Dubai is under 80 billion worth debt they say. I have no freaking clue of what’s going on and when I’d be thrown out of my job. What’s the point in thinking? I’d play the wait and watch game for now cause uhm, that’s all that you can do. I’m not going to crib, fret and frown over my job because there is no dearth for opportunities! In other news, Sneha is getting married too and I’m super excited. My long vacation starts on the 28th of January and I cant wait for the days to fly by. I cant bear the void anymore and I cant wait for Mrs. Menon to come over. Well, that’s it for now and I hope to god that this finally shows up as a post. I don’t trust myself with blogging these days. I have no clue about what’s gotten into me. Publishing a post seems to be a herculean task and I most usually find a reason to discard the draft by the end of it. This is lovingly dedicated to all those people back in Bangalore/Pune and Kerala *winks* This is to tell you’ll that I miss you’ll truck loads. Peace out.

-Anup

Road rage.

Road rageI’ve been requested and ordered; yes both at the same time by someone who CAN have that effect on me to be very careful about what I type on a public blog like this. Now I’m not sure about why he thinks that people care about what I write but then, assuming that they do care – I thought I never bought any personal stories upfront. Anyway, I think I see what you mean and I’m going to keep a very strict, no personal and/or family related entry rule on this journal hence on. I mean, seriously; its just a few of my close friends who visit this place once every 6 months when they are bored out of their wits. Damn! Sometimes, all I need is some appreciation. I don’t really care about who reads here and to be frank, I don’t really care about what they think or feel about whatever it is that I write. I just find it immensely satisfying to squeeze out all those brain cells that run my memory module and I like painting a word picture. It’s mostly for me, but then it’d be a lie if I say that it’s just that. I like it when people read at my place. I don’t feel obligated to blog or its not that I’m compelled to put my feelings and emotions into words. Seriously, that kinda hokum doesn’t work with me. I blog – because I love writing. Why else would I make up random stories? My friends know me very well and they’d testify that I make up stories. I’m one of those people who’d transform a penny into a hundred rupee note out of thin air. I just talk crap and most people I care about know what to take out of all that I say. So the reason why I blog is simple – I like this pseudo reality that I live in. In fact, I can’t live without it. I need to, every now and then pee all over it and leave my mark. I cannot quit writing; EVER and I will not. As far as keeping the private personal part out of picture is concerned, I will try. I promise.

I’ve not mentioned this before but what scares me shitless is the thought of an ant entering my ear while I’m asleep. I’m not sure why it’s just the ear that I’m bothered about because the heat these days is kinda killing and I’m wearing nothing but very short shorts when I sleep. Whatever. It just worries me when I see ants crawling around the place. The tiny black ones seem harmless and tickly but they can create a havoc once they get into your soft spots. And if you’re lucky enough to have one of those giant red ants get close to your ears then you’re in for a treat. Ohh yeah, my room is crawling with those. I wonder where they come from and what they find on my table, the bed, my watch and even the mirror. I mean, what is it that you’re looking for you puny dangerous creature? Your place is in the kitchen. Why don’t you just go away? How many more of you’ll do I have to smash and feel guilty for before you just disappear from my room? Its 2:00 AM and I need to sleep but I caught one of your step sisters wiping her antenna while resting comfortably on my pillow and that’s just gross and unclean. I thought you guys were more organized. And what the hell is on my pillow? Get out of my face, will you? And tell her to be never seen on my pillow again.

Coming to terms with my weak understanding of Kannada and humiliated by my less than modest effort at learning the language of the state I live in; I’ve come to the conclusion that road rage is an activity that cannot be avoided for long and that ‘nin akkan…’ essentially means “Your sister…” this I managed to decipher after numerous phone calls and asking around. I’m a safe driver. You’d spot me driving calmly moving close to 70 kmph when there isn’t much traffic and provided the roads can take that kinda speed. Now I don’t say that I’m a good driver but I’m alright at the wheels. I do have my push and pull game going on with the clutch but what the hell? That wouldn’t make me any lesser with judging the distance from a vehicle on either sides. I keep a safe distance and I do not overtake unless I’m in a hurry to leave. I remember once being kept at 20kmph because there was this bullock cart wobbling ahead of me and I thought the cow looked tired. I did not want to alarm the poor thing. So, yeah, that’s how I drive. I’m confident on the wheels and I seldom make mistakes. This is what I genuinely feel and its been alright for me thus far. I mean, its been over 2 years since I’ve had a car and I’ve never been into the shit that was waiting for me the other day.

So I’m driving, my usual self. Calm and lost in the music playing softly on my sides. The glasses were rolled up since it was burning outside and I kept a low profile on the road that day since I was early to work. I wasn’t even committing to my usual maneuvers that day and I was nodding my head softly as I whistled to “Kendi Pom” imagining Chi-Chi and Salman do the jingle. That song peps me up. I managed to quickly reach office that day. I’m not sure. Come to think of it now, was I speeding? Did I hit someone on the road? Random pedestrian? Some cab guy? I’m not sure. I stopped at this signal and this sumo screeched to a halt to the right of my car. All I could see was him yelling and turning red with anger as I looked on, confused and trying to understand what he was saying. He was visibly upset with something I did and I did not want to get into a squabble with a stupid cabbie in the middle of the road. I ignored all that he seemed to say. It almost seemed like he was a mime artist trying to visually explode my head with his hatred. I looked at him and gave one of those famous ‘fuck you’ expressions, shifted to first gear and took off. By now, he had stepped out of his cab and had broken into a swift jog. He reached my car and banged his hand very hard at my rear glass and I thought he nearly shattered it. This ticked me off and I thought I’d get out and ask him about what the fuck he thought he was doing! I could hear him swearing and yes, you know when someone is calling you names, whichever language it is. The both of us were on opposite ends of the world with a huge line separating us. The line contained, language, a general understanding of the world, education, an upbringing and yes, finally, Kannada. Everyone else around me knew what he was saying whereas I did not. So for everyone else, I was actually the biggest jackass they encountered that day. After a lot of pointless rambling he decided to give me a push which would be a physical representation to all his anger. Here, as instinctive as I am, I returned the favor. He was a tiny little man and he stumbled and fell down. By this time, I guess he figured out that I wasn’t scared of a fight. I actually was. Crap! I did not want to get into trouble with a cabbie. He’d have his bunch back at his parking lot. For all you know, you’d read about me being killed in a squabble between two “youths” heh, weird ways that newspapers have of portraying “incidents” Its pathetic, fights that is. Especially if it’s on the middle of the road. The small little one that I had quickly ended with the guys in the cab deciding to intervene and drag him back. I watched them leave and hopped into my car and quickly drove into my building. Ahhh! I was relieved. He wasn’t going to get in however hard he tried. I then nearly ran upstairs and told everyone about what happened and prepped them up for a fight – just in case. A bunch of nerdy IT guys, picture that? I was doomed.

I haven’t had any mishaps after that date and I hope he forgets my face. At least I have. Forgiveness is a trait of the best! Sadly, there is a humongous amount of stuff in my head that I wanna talk about right now but its late and I’m sleepy. I nearly forgot. I cut my hair short. It’s the old school navy cut now. I think I look presentable in it and I prefer that to a Rock star who failed to make a mark kinda look. Well, that’s what people thought I looked like. That being said I’m off for the night. Night ya’ll!

-Anup

An expensive weekend.

Once every month; Chetan and I have this unavoidable urge and craving to spend money. Its not like we do all that we want to do, which might include buying Levis denims and more shoes. We fall out of home hoping to buy stuff but these days we usually return empty handed cause uhm, allegedly, there isn’t anything worth buying. Or some random reason that we’d come up with at that point in time where we get stuck between the want to buy and the want to flee from the shop we’re standing in. Its awkward silence and then the both of us making a hasty exit from the shop leaving the salesman wondering what he did wrong. It was hilarious when we did this at Levis where I sent the boy to get a measuring tape for alteration since I had apparently just purchased a pair of expensive Levis. Here is where I looked at Chetan and we had a not-so-quite discussion about buying those denims. “Do you want it?” he asked. “I do!! and I dont…” said I looking perplexed at the thought of spending 3 grands on a pair of pants I did not actually need right then. Here is when Chetan turned into a Gladiator and he began fleeing the scene. I promptly followed suit and left those denims hanging by the manequins hands. Still cracks me up when I think about that day.

This weekend was one of those expensive ones where we did spend a lot of money on activities we could have easily avoided but then once in a while we like the rich feeling. Rich dining, expensive leisures and prodigal wandering. We visited Ruby Tuesday for lunch on Saturday. Chetans suggestion that. I’m positive that we’d never venture into that restaurant again. At least not the two of us. Its ideal if you want the perfect American date and I’d hope that the girl you’d take along would be worth the money cause its menu card is the epitome of a proposterously expensive list of food items you’ve probably never heard of unless, of course, if you fall into the Creme’De’wastera clan who is used to expensive places like these.  We had Penne mushroom Pasta and mini burgers with nothing but plain water even after the host asked us if we wanted something (alcoholic) to drink twice. It did seem embarassing the second time he asked and Chetan demanded some more water. We quickly finished our meal and paid a paltry sum of 600 bucks for the above mentioned food that was eaten tastefully by me. Chetan ended up stuffing most of it into his mouth cause it didn’t taste too great, he said.

Ahh! I nearly forgot to mention about the angel we saw at Pizza hut before that. Ohh yeah, thats right we had initially walked in to Pizza hut to eat a poor meal but then we decided to give Chetans choice of restaurant a shot after we caught ourselves staring at this angel on earth who couldn’t get enough of whatever it was that she was eating. She didn’t lift her eyes off her plate for once. What an ogre. Geez, no! This girl; I mean, its kinda difficult to put into words about how cute she was. Fair… infact, very fair but not pasty. A round chubby face but not fat. Curly hair right upto her shoulders. Eyes fixed on her plate and innocence written all over her gorgeous face. Lips so cute that you’d lose your apetite. The kajal in her eyes and those eyelashes, wooohoooo!! God sure spent a little more time on her. We exited soon cause else she’d be medusa who turned us into stone. Hey! Its not our fault. You cant help staring at girls like those.

We went bowling at Ameoba after all that food and we spent an hour just waiting for it to be our turn to take a shot at the heavy balls. We watched all those amateurs being funny with the ball and pins. We even found some dude trying to spin the ball in mid air. He was funny as hell and Chetan tried imitating him which made me tear with laughter. I finally decided to stop watching since there was this one girl who sported a lose top and decided to bend down with the ball. It made me feel guilty even though it was not me showing my cleavage. Chetan had no interest in watching live soft core banalities either. So we sulked and waited for it to be our turn. I wonder why that part made me feel guilty. I mean, its not like my eyes would self-realizingly close itself or blink for a longer second when images like this occur. Sigh, what a mindless world of women. It finally arrived and it was awesome. 45 minutes of unadulterated fun. I beat him in the first game and he beat me in the second. Its usually that way, we really cant decide on who is better. I guess we’ve decided that we both rock at it. Mostly, cause no one else there went above the score of 70 and we were in the 100’s. I loved the strikes we had and it was exhilarating. We then wasted time at Forum and had some Maharashtrian food for dinner. Sunday was a lazy day with loads of sleep and movies. Thats pretty much what we did this weekend and yeah, my purse got lighter by a grand. Sigh.

I am tempted to quit working and go take up a travelling job. More on that later. For now, I gotta head to my boring IT job and I guess you’d find me writing more if all that boredom doesn’t kill me. Later folks.

-Anup

Collage etcetera

Though I’ve managed to type down and thereby frozen the events of my life over the past year and a half; I’ve noticed, recently that there are chunks of it that I managed to forget/ignore. I’ve been lucky enough to grab pictures of most of my travels and outings. Guess I’ll just make a collage out of it and put in a brief delineation of my encounter with life, travel, my car, family, friends and foes. I’ve skillfully managed to avoid foes though so none here. I’ve also omitted my visit to Pune this december on account of Abhi and Muiz’s marriage because those are very important events and I’d probably talk about them later. Mostly cause they’ve indirectly made a marked difference in my life too. So here goes:

The first two pictures clicked on my drive down to Kerala which was both foolhardy and adventurous. I have no clue of the interiors of my car and I cannot fix a flat. So if there be this time when I drove into a jungle and was chased by stray dinosaurs and bless-my-luck there be this time during the chase where my car breaks down; I really would have no direction whatsoever towards fixing it. So, yes, that being said, I was hoping that Jittu (my cousin who accompanied me) would know something about this. I’d then fend of the beasts while he works on a devious plan to fix the car. Uhm, darn me and my meandering thoughts. The next picture speaks for itself. Two very beautiful angels who make life easier for me, everyday. Then we have our new house at Irinjalakuda (Thrishur, Kerala). We then have Gods own country at its best all lushed out and laid in front of you like a green carpet welcoming you to go become Mowglee! This on my drive back to Bangalore – end of Kerala.

We then have Ooty, another picturesque location and I was clicking away wherever we paused, which incidentally was all over the place, even at some random rich guys farm from where we ran like hell after stealing a few shots. He even had a private waterfall. What the hell kinda luck is that? Chetan and I attended Ratheesh’s wedding which was at Pallakad and the next picture depicts an image of a lamb being taken to be slaughtered (Ratheesh in the middle) and two bachelors smiling all over his misery! To share a small story about Chetan here wouldn’t be too taxing on Chetans ego (I hope) he is difficult that way. Ratheesh was supposed to come up with a Mundu for Chetan which never showed up and Chetan was clad in a Black-tee and blue jeans (which he declared hadn’t been washed since forever, then) Here we had a small drama featuring Chetan in the lead role and me in support cast where the anti-hero (Chetan) went on to use some beautifully derogative words for Ratheesh’s lack of sense and responsibility. The picture was taken after Ratheesh guessed the anti-hero’s disgust and magically came up with a Mundu from somewhere. We then managed to buckle up Chetan and he was smiling away for a few hours after that. He was obsessed with the piece of cloth. Precisely what I love about him. Smalls things are important.

We then have the next four pictures from the Coorg outing with the married man Abhi who had come down to Bangalore in January. The first one is picturesqueness personified. I think its one of the best pictures my camera has shot in a while now. Chetan and I – the Floydians, he siding to the Dark side of the moon and me, obsessed with The Division bell. My first and last drink ever – one bottle beer. Hmm, what was it now? Kingfisher? Yeah, I guess so. I was supposed to experience how ‘the high’ feels like and go off to sleep. I was puzzled at the aftermath of gulping down the entire contents of the bottle in three glasses of one go each. Beer tastes like piss, I think. According to me, intestinal discharge is the most distasteful thing ever. Should taste like that then. Add to that the aerated drink had me burping and taking a leak every fifteen minutes. A thorough waste of eighty bucks I must say and I will never touch piss again. The picture here has a blurred out face of a person who was with us on the trip and did not want to be named. He was on a secret mission to Coorg. There will be no more talks about him and questions will be ignored. It was 26th of Jan and this put Chetan in the ‘Bharat mata ki jai‘ mood. Thats him there with a Tiranga on his face.

The last five pictures taken this Sunday when Ratheesh turned bachelor temporarily and we all needed the break. Work has been killing me just as much as its bothering them I suppose. Nandi hills is this small hillock around 60 kms off Bangalore and its the only place we know (for now) which is devoid of crowd and the only place we know which would facilitate a quite walk and some fresh air. The eerie tree looked good on my camera – CLICK! After which we have me, in the thoughtful mood, a jumpy Chetan and me following suit. Post which we quickly said good bye to the place and made a dash for home. It was roadies time. I’m surprised at how much I like that show. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. In other news, mother and Sneha have returned from Kerala. Our new home is all set to house our needs when we go to Kerala next. We hence on do not need to deal with pesky relatives. Work, for me is hectic, tiresome, thrilling and full of learning. Something that it wasn’t until a month ago. I would like to emphatically thank Avinash for sponsoring this opportunity. I injured my car after I decided to chat up with Chetan on the phone whilst driving inattentively. I’m sorry babe. Will get you fixed soon. Mesa got insurance for yousa! Finally, I’d like to end with a song sung by me and one from Ajay, both recorded by him in his mini studio which does a very comprehensive job, I must say. He is good with music; Ajay that is.

Wish you were here – Pink Floyd, by Anup:

[audio:http://www.anup.org/audio/wywh.mp3]

================================================================

Hallelujah – Ajay:

[audio:http://www.anup.org/audio/ajhal.mp3]

Peace out people.

-Anup

No strings attached.

I learnt all of a sudden and as an unwanted revelation that I live amongst people who have no strings attached. They aren’t attached to anyone who are not their own. Greedy and selfish all the more, these people plague my life. Most of the people I meet have words which they vomit like it’s an involuntary push in them. Most of the words they use are words which have no meaning and even if they have sense attached to it; it turns out to be information you cannot trust. Actions, as I believe happen to be an aftermath of words already used and thought off. Words, as we all know are like bullets; once fired, you cannot regain control of them. Most of the people I know happen to be ignorant about what they say, including me; I’d say. I have had so many occasions where my seniors and people I trust have walked up to me and corrected me. Told me that I’ve been wrong on these occasions and that I must change the way I react to my environment.

Something out of nothing:

People, busy and running after more time…
Days, months and years aren’t enough they say,
They need more to earn their dime.
Loveless and without a heart,
We continue pulling our square wheeled cart.

There seems to be no hope,
Cause all I see is people cry;
As per them, money and time are to elope!
I try to run away sometimes,
Where are my people with whome I’d give a try?
They’re all stuck up within time’s crimes.

So I pull myself out of the wreckage,
Scarred but alive, hurt but I survive.
I’m surrounded by this apocalyptic wasteland,
And here’s where I meet people who, for love are parched,
But are brave enough to say, “Hey! No strings attached.”

No strings attached. This was a statement someone used a while back. It’s a statement that shakes me out of my veins because of the complexity involved. I believe, as per the way I’ve lived that there are strings that connect to me and from me to the people around me. Those I call friends and family. That’s the way I talk to myself and make-believe that I’m really alive. I like the strings and I need them desperately. How odd is it that some people do not have any strings attached. Sentiments and emotions are nothing more than clichéd remade fables which they hate, experiences that happen to them every day and something that they choose to ignore with a certain amount of pleasure.

I hate myself for being emotionally overshadowed by people who don’t care. I know it very well that they don’t mean much when they say the things they do. They don’t care much about how I feel or why I do the things I do. It’s always been weird that everyone I’ve loved has always wanted something from me. Unconditional love is something I’ve never experienced. It must be a wonderful feeling, wouldn’t it? I mean, when you own someone and someone owns you back.Heh, unconditional love! Bullshit. I understand that there are people who like to maintain the distance and I agree that it’s essential when you live in such a sticky world! All so full of people who are so fragile that they break their hearts themselves and all so full of people like me who hurt themselves all so often. But then, sometimes, try and be human? How difficult is that? I find it very difficult to comprehend the mental state of people who are ignorant and callous. People, who can ignore another person and what he/she feels, people who are nothing more than assoholic backstabbers. I pity their very existence. I don’t have anything more to say. I’m done, tired and worried about why people are – the way they are. I hate em’ all.

-Anup

The castaway car.

So I got lost and it was scary cause I had no clue of where I was and I was desperate to reach home but then I was too high on myself to call up and ask for help. I then proceeded to roam around the city at 12:30 AM clueless about where I was and the road to my home seemed to be lost unto oblivion. It was weird of me though that I kept the music loud and kept on driving. Going back to the whole situation, it would have turned murky weren’t it for some good people out for sehri and other reasons since it was Eid. There were quite a few muslim people out on the streets; either returning from the mosque or on their way. Luckily for me, there weren’t any communal riots going on and I managed to talk to a couple of people who helped me out. I drove all around Bangalore, I feel. Eid Mubarak to those two good people who helped me. Eid Mubarak Shags, Muiz and Shaista and all those people celebrating the auspicious day.

I had been to a friends party which was a dinner thing and thus it began at around 9ish or so to say it never began cause people were sober then. They were just about getting on the higher, more funnier side when I had to leave and I feel sorry for myself that I had to come home and work. The thing here is, this post is a follow up to the post ‘meeting strangers’. Here in this case, I thought it’d be difficult for me to survive at a place where I wouldn’t know any of the people coming over and I pondered for a long time about how I’d be able to communicate to a bunch of people I did not know. Funny that? No. It was horrifying! I was worried thoughout the time I drove to her place and up unto the time the door bell rang, from there on it was easy and time just flew by! Most importantly because I found a mallu guy who decided to do the funny talk and also happened to be kind enough to include me in almost all of his discussions. I just sat there and heard him out… ohh and I did have my share of time checking out all the pretty ladies that poured in. The host was gracious enough to admit that she didn’t know all the people who had come over. It was fun, nice people and they weren’t as drunk as I thought they’d be. Or well, I guess they probably did after I left, maybe. Mallu’s bond quickly and I sat speaking to all the mallu’s I could gather.

The thing here was I got to her house easily because she had drawn up a pretty decent map from Cunningham road to her place and I managed to reach there without missing a turn. While returning though, I was lost in thought and spaced out completely. I thought I could take on the roads and karma came in to punish me. I had the map, but I didn’t bother looking at it. Took me more than an hour of driving around Frazer town to finally hit M.G road and from there on it was easy – Koramangala and my place, Arekere which according to most people is the end of the world. Phew, you guys don’t know how affordably good my place is. Now thats not an adjective everyone can use, you know? I managed to reach home and for the first few minutes I was thinking out loud – am I really home? Wow, where was I? Sometimes, these parts of the town which are as close as a few miles away might seem so very alien to you. Upon returning home, you’d feel misplaced or still lost even, funny feeling that! Anyway, thanks R for the invite. It was an awesome party! Its ok that I got lost. I’m sure I can find my way around the next time *winks*

Ramble on...
Tired and sleepy...

Its been a rather sad day after that – Airtel calling me up to know if I wanted more post paid connections; I mean, why would I need more post-paid connections when they’re calling on my post paid number? Some guy from HDFC called to verify if I still want the loan and I was too sleepy to answer so I hung up and tried to sleep. Thats when the HDFC girl called up again and began tweeting, “Sorry sir, we couldn’t get your statement from Citibank; all the banks are closed, you know na?” and me; unsure about whats going on and extremely sleepy, barked out, “So what do you want me to do ma’am?” “No no sir… I just wanted to tell you that we are still awaiting your phone bills from your fathers landline number” she squeaks this time! I heave a sigh and I guess it was good enough to give her the hint that I was mad. She hung up quickly after apologizing. I was trying to get some sleep after a hard nights work, woman! I couldn’t sleep after that. Her voice kept echoing in my head. I’ve been here in front of this box ever since. I need sleep – so so desperately!

-Anup

The waiting place…

Population outburst, unruly and uneducated people, educated scmucks, morally impaired, outright stupid – some of the many reasons for the unending waits we have to endure as part of the mob. The mob who lives in a world thats crumbling under the weight of the ever increasing ignorance in people about their pointless existence. They seem to be oblivious about the fact that its they themselves who cause ‘the waiting’ A quick one on this –

And grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
Headed I fear, towards a most useless place.
The waiting place…
For people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
Or a bus to come, or a plane to go.
Or the mail to come, or the rain to go
Or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
A high-school yearbook. An old photo album. A teddy bear.
A snow-globe. A well-worn book by Dr. Seuss.
Or waiting around for a yes or a no
Or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
Or waiting for wind to fly a kite
Or waiting around for Friday night
Or waiting perhaps for their uncle jake
Or a pot to boil, or a better break
Or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
Or a wig with curls…
Or another chance.

I’m tired of waiting. I know that I’m part of the mob and there’s little that I can do to decrease the amount of time spent on waiting for things you want. The queue is never ending and I spend loads of time just waiting in queue. The queue at the Airtel bill payment counter which is incapable of managing the crowd even with 5 queues going. The queue at Adigas, the food joint where they serve cheap but good food. The wait at restraunts where people seem to eat on forever. The wait at the parking lot where you’d consider yourself to be lucky to park at the rate of Rs 30 an hour (outfuckinrageous). The wait at the parlour or the saloon even! Its funny that I have to wait anywhere and everywhere I go. Who are all these people I wonder? Why are they out? Where do ALL these people come from? What the bleep do they want? Why are they out when I’m out? God damn these crowds!! Stop touching me you pig… duh! People all over me. Crowds annoy me and unruly people get on my nerves. But the wait goes on…

This outburst is after some random guy decided to throw sambar all over me and had the audacity to ask me to pay up for his loss in food! I gave him a piece of my mind which he probably did not understand. He then went on to make a funny face, talk some eblish in broken hindi and cursy kannada. We stared at each other for a while. He wondering about who’d pay for his idli-sambar now and me thinking about who’d wash my shirt? You can’t blame anyone for anything that happens these days. Unavoidable people, I tell you. I was there for him and he was there for me. We were so unavoidable to each other. Bumping into each other for no reason. Blame the crowd. The wait at Adigas has always puzzled me. The food is alright and that too at a modest price range, but then, why don’t all these people eat at home? I mean, I see entire families standing and eating away. Laughing away to glory, unperturbed by the fact that they are in the midst of such a lot of commotion. I understand if the bachelors hang out at the place for food and more, but whats up with all these ladies? Or whats up with their men? Don’t you’ll ever cook at home? I see the same faces everyday. It just worries me! Good old times when mom cooked food and what she cooked seemed to be the only thing I could ever like. These new age mothers feeding their babies idli-sambar which some guy cooked in some unhygenic kitchen. For the love of god, whats wrong with you’ll?  Anyway, the man went on buy more idli sambar for himself and I walked out thus missing breakfast, yet again.

The wait for getting a loan sanctioned is killing me from another end with the HDFC chicks sucking the very life out of me with their stupid ass questions. “So sir are you married?” “No” I say candidly. She goes onto ask a few more questions about my family and friends not trying to hide her awe when I say that I’m new to Bangalore. “So you know kannada ha?” she asks and I curse my fate. “Gothilla ma’am” and she giggles. She goes on, “Sir are you single?” here I get brain fucked and I ask her what she wants! She goes on to say, “Sir you want this loan no? Please answer my questions” and I go @$@$%$#%!#@##$@#$ Some more annoying questions later she puts her boss on the phone who asks me the same annoying questions again this time he adds on to say, “Sorry sir, these days they don’t give loan unless your father agrees to it! They don’t agree even if you have a wife. They don’t trust wives… you know with all the divorces in Bangalore!” and I’m thinking… ‘Man, what the hell’s going on? So now what? You’re a relationship councellor?” He giggles some and tries to confirm my mothers maiden name. This interrogation continus for another 20 gruelling minutes before which he seems to point to me that I can get more loan than what I’ve opted for and how I’m making an incorrect decision. I’ve never felt this smothered. The torture along with the wait has fuelled my rage and I’m going to stop running after any of these imbeciles. I’m tired of the waiting…

-Anup

To the yearly rains – I miss you.

I finally convinced myself to shake off the rust that had crept onto my fingers over the last 3 odd weeks. I wasn’t trying to keep myself from writing; but just my usual bouts which did not allow me to hit the keys. Until now that is. I’ve wanted to write ever since I started experiencing power problems! Well, I’m human and every human being has a hole in his heart. We’d always want to talk about whats missing and whats not right. We’d always crib about what makes us uncomfortable and most of us are so used to comfort and leisure that the smallest nano-ounce of discomfort would trigger off a chain reaction which would then force us to ogle out a list of other related woes.

In my case, its the rains! Where the fuck are the clouds? Seriously Zeus; I know you’re a tyrannical god and you rule no hearts. But unfortunately, you rule the skies and you’re the rain god! Where are the rains? If you’re a god, you’d know how the rain makes us humans feel. Especially downright romantics such as myself. I know, I sound like a girl in pink – but do you care? Consider me to be one of those numerous nincompoops you need to provide the rains to. For various reasons, I’d say. We creatures here on earth need water for each and everything.  Our very existence depends on it. Its nearing the end of July and I don’t see it raining anywhere. I mean, what the hell are you waiting for? Give us your fury! Let it rain.

Simply put, the rainy season has arrived with little or no rain clouds and I’m worried about how we’d be able to survive if it continues like this. I need it to rain just like all of us. I wish to see a greener earth. I wish for there to be plenty of food next year. I hope that rain brings us more resources to suck on. The most important one in our case, electricity. Unlike the super powers, we here in developing countries still depend on water for most of our power related needs. So if there’s an upsurge in the demand of electricity, which I’m sure there is; and if its preceded by a monsoon with shortage of water, it’d turn out of to be an irony you can’t laugh at. The situation here in Bangalore is grim. There is no power for almost 3-4 hours a day. Also, what annoys me is the part where they do not declare the power cuts. Why can’t we be more civilized? Like Kerala maybe? There, they have been minimizing power usage since times immortal. 30 minutes of blackout everyday is something thats told to everyone and something thats followed religiously. No one minds it. Out here and over the last 2 weeks; we face power outages every 3-4 hours for like 30-40 minutes and it rips my patience off.

Finally, the main reason I miss the rains. I miss its beauty. I miss the drizzle and I miss the warmth it carries along with all its shivers. Its life I feel and its beautiful. The smell of rain on dry soil… mmm; one fragrance that man couldn’t capture yet. I miss the fragrance too. Its hardly rained! What the hell is going on? I just want it to rain. Apart from this everything is in place and I’m on top of the world. I haven’t been hitting the gym for over 2 weeks. Mostly because I thought my body needed some rest. I’ve kept the dieting tempo up though and have kept away from any fattening food. I’ll hit the gym pretty soon. There are other stories to talk about, but then, those worry me, so I won’t talk about it. Abhi, Muiz, Smikh and everyone else close to me is in line for beginning a new life with someone special. I feel that I’d be left alone. Not that I’m so full of people right now, but then I can at least think about these people now. A few months down the line, I’d be a loner for good. But then, what the fuck? I’ll deal with it too. My apathy towards loneliness keeps on increasing. Being alone doesn’t scare me anymore. Heh.

-Anup

Reckless monotony.

Life’s been a series of monotonous events since quite some time now. I’ve tried to keep it full of things to do and people to be with, but somehow, all of them seem to fall short and I keep going back to the monotony of my life. Drive to work, no-real-work, sulk, surf, waste time, gym, drive back home, computer, tv and the internet, sleep and REPEAT! I’m not sure why, but it ticks me off that I’m not doing something right. I don’t know where I’m going wrong. Am I overdoing the whole ‘running away from people’ thing? Not actually. I’m bored and thats better than feeling hurtful, hated and betrayed, watcha say?

Coming to what happened the other day – the drive from and to my house turned a bit too mechanical; I guess. I thought I knew the roads and I recently began speeding. Sometimes I was shocked when I looked at the speedometer and sometimes I tried to do things I would have otherwise not done. You feel alright with dirty driving when you’re alone, but the thing is, you might end up hurting someone else along with yourself when you’re reckless on the wheels of a pretty mean machine. Luckily though, in this case, I wasn’t a threat to others but instead, I nearly got myself killed in a freak accident a couple of days ago. The truck drivers cursed me for nearly 15 minutes and it turned ugly cause I had lost my left rear-view mirror 2 months ago and I was nearly going to lose this one. I mean, it wasn’t that bad, just an example of examplary driving skills; but then, the truck drivers nearly shit in their pants because of what I did or so it seemed from the look on their face. It wasn’t my fault, I’d say. I was driving at around 100 kmph (not a good idea when on Hosur road, Bangalore) and I quickly approached a huge truck and it wouldn’t budge. I continued at around 80 and decided to weave past it from the left. Thats when another huge truck on the left decided to weave right so that it could get onto the slow trucks lane. So if you’d imagine, I was stuck between two huge trucks and instead of breaking I sped right through them whizzing by at more tham 100 kmph and avoiding both of them. Because of my whizz through both the drivers lost track of where they were and did not spot each other – CRACK!! and they kissed, the trucks that is. Luckily, the one on the right was a fuckin’ snail and all that happened was that the three of us stopped with a screech of our brakes and both the truck drivers then proceeded to abuse me. I looked at them, waved sorry and sped off. Man, when I think of it now… somehow if I was at 80kmph and not a 100, I’d have been crushed for sure! Sent shivers down my spine then and well, it still scares me, the thought of me dying such a miserable death. I must be more careful or if death is what I want, I should wait and clear my debts before I be more reckless. My dad shouldn’t suffer for the vicious circle I’ve put myself in!

Fuck that! I’m going to forget it very soon and I’ll continue being reckless. Driving fast is fun and yeah, for a few seconds I felt a rush and I totally loved it. I’m working out harder at the gym and eating to my diet plan and I feel good on the insides. I take a jog for 20 minutes straight without a stop. A break for about 50 seconds and some water later, I hope onto the cycle and do a quickfire 5 minutes of cycling which burns around 60 calories. I then get back on the threadmill and hit another 40 minutes of brisk walking at an incline. Follow this up with some twists and around 80 odd crunches. I think I burn more than 1000 calories per day. I’m impressed with how much I can do when I really want to do! I’ve been stuck to Pink Floyd like crazy and I can’t stop listening to Gilmour and his guitar. I know! Addictive, isn’t he? Its a different kinda high. A healthy, safe one. Its my mallu birthday today. According to the mallu calendar that is. I’ve never understood how it works though. My birthday is fast approaching and somehow, I feel its going to be lame this time. I’m going home on the 5th along with Fahd. Planning to drive home and return on the 9th in a bus. Well, thats it for now.

My new favourite song:

Into the distance, a ribbon of black
Stretched to the point of no turning back
A flight of fancy on a windswept field
Standing alone my senses reeled
A fatal attraction holding me fast, how
Can I escape this irresistible grasp?
Can’t keep my mind from the circling skiesLearning to fly.
Tongue-tied and twisted Just an earth-bound misfit, I
Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything
No navigator to find my way home
Unladened, empty and turned to stone
A sole intension that’s learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try
Can’t keep my mind from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I
Above the planet on a wing and a prayer,
My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air,
Across the clouds I see my shadow fly
Out of the corner of my watering eye
A dream unthreatened by the morning light
Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night
There’s no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, A state of bliss
Can’t keep my mind from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I

-Anup

 

The Beach.

It was Abhi’s birthday on the 11th and if I haven’t mentioned this before – I’m very poor with numbers and dates alike. I somehow seem to prefer text more to numbers. I must say that I’ve been fascinated by numbers recently because I’m watching the series – Numb3rs. Its funny that when I’m writing, I’d prefer writing it as twenty instead of 20. It seems to glorify my affinity towards letters and words of the English language and takes me further away from numbers. Well, thats precisely why I was very bad at Math. I was good at algebra though because it had letters in it, you know? Formulae and others. I found it easy to comprehend and understand.

I suddenly noticed that I’ve strayed away from the point and so I’d just quickly trackback to where I was; Abhi’s birthday. He turned 27 and we celebrated his birthday and his coming to Bangalore (for 2 days) in complete style yesterday at this place called “The Beach” This was an awesome experience for me, Ajay and Ritesh (Ajay’s friend from mumbai) Abhi sucked on his obvious distaste for loud music that he could not comprehend much. He stared at the table and wondered, “Whats wrong with these people!?” Ajay sang well. In fact, I’d say he did an outstanding job of entertaining all those who were present. There was this other guy, I’m not sure about his name, so lets call him Sam. So Sam was the other singer who sang very well and that too without losing an ounce of energry. Mostly because of all the smoke he was puffing in and out along with whatever it was that he was drinking. Then there was this gay guy who sang very much like Enrique and the chicks dug his style of singing. Ohhh, and we actually had a gay guy there who wore denims meant for the girls and those flat osho type slippers that they wear. The girls seemed to be very comfortable around him and they danced along, sometimes weird and the other times funny. Then there was this guy who had come along with a girl who seemed disturbed that she was there with him and was trying to avoid any kind of talks. She stared at all the others around and tried to avoid talking to him. This guy was stupid anyway, he sat on the seat after he had pushed the cushion down, jackass. He tried to dance with a chick who thought she could dance, but then Ajay and me though that they sucked at it. There was this one girl that I liked, but then she was a bloody chimney. I guess they were this gang of friends and friends of friends who knew each other. It was a gang of around 25 odd people and they were all fired up. Funny that Ajay still stole the show with songs like – Angel, Alice and Smells like Teen spirit. I actually loved it when he sang Smells like teen spirit cause I was jumping around and yelling along from behind. The next time, I’ll be up front and I’ll make sure that I croak. YAY for Karaoke.

Abhi, Ajay and me!

We got over the food part pretty quickly cause we had delicious french fries and some amazing paneer starters. No one wanted anything to eat after it. They drank some beer, smoked a lot of cigs and the shop closed its gates at 11. Its pretty strict here in Bangalore and somehow, I feel its a good practise. Lesser deaths due to accidents caused off negligent/under the influence of alcohol driving. Most dancers and clubbers hate it though and they’re hoping that the new government would probably take out the various limits and bans they’ve set. Well, lets see where that goes.

We clicked a few pictures after reaching home and from there Ajay and the guys came over to my place to drop me. Here was where we picked Abhi up and kicked him like madmen at 12:00 AM in the morning. Adventurous, I’d say; picking Abhi up was arduous and then we had to kick him simultaneously. I guess his ass musn’t have hurt cause its huge and all full of chubby ASS! Well, that ended the whole Karaoke thing and I must say, I enjoyed it. Thanks Ajay.Me and Ajay.

Something I missed to type in from last week. I watched the movie Sarkar Raj and I’d say its a must watch. Not for RGV, he sucks more after his AAG! But then, you wouldn’t want to miss the chemistry of the father-son duo in the movie. They rocked. Aishwarya looked old, weird and unfit for the clothes she wore, I thought. Plus, she’s tall in an unattractive way, unlike Shilpa Shetty or Deepika Padukone; well they look delicious! The movie is awesome and I loved the sound track. I must sleep now, haven’t slept in two days and I am about to crash on the keyboard.

-Anup