Year: 2009

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 smaller things in life.

I’ve always been in love with the smaller things in life. I’d take my time to savour every second of such an occasion and my brains full of these tiny but important things. Come to think of it now, I don’t like thinking of the more complicated problems I or anyone else has for that matter. I’m better off in my world of bits and tinier bits.

I was talking to Ruch yesterday and it was from there that I had this whole thought of expressing whatever was in my heart. Again, I’ve not yet learnt the basic instinct where we humans think and act from different parts of our body. For me, its all heart and I’d want to change but I can’t seem to help myself now. Ruch was telling me about her small squabbles at home and how it affects her. The weird feeling in me was about how drabby life would be without these small fights at home. No reason to cry, no reason to apologize, fights with mom and siblings, a sibling who adores you, a father who acts tough but isn’t and most importantly the food mom cooks! Foods the reason for all make-ups at my place. We’d all have to face each other at the table, whatever the fight be!

I sometimes feel like I’m watching the world around me from a distance and I look at all those people running around for glitz, glamour and glory. I’m confused, do I really want to be a part of the mob or am I happy where I am; this distant space in time where its just me and I’m looking at the world? I’m not a part of the race. I don’t feel the need to excel in anything. I don’t feel like competing cause I always find myself running on a different plateau and I’m tired of running. Why should I bother competing with myself? I can see everyone else running a race they’d never finish. Trying desperately to outrun everyone else. And in this feeble attempt at winning life’s race they’d forget to wait and notice whats whizzing by. Its beauty unlike what they’ve ever seen. I am contented with what I have and with the way I live life but I feel the need to share the infinite joys I find in smaller things and I find no one to share it with cause everyone else is running. I know, I might sound depressing. But then, think about it how many of us have the time to:

  • Wake up in the morning and look at the rising sun and feel its warmth.
  • Talk to the watchman and share a smile.
  • Take out your own garbage.
  • Let that stray dog walk with you silently.
  • Take a walk and observe people.
  • Think about aliens and wonder about life on other planets.(HELL YEAH!!)
  • Dig your nose on an idle tuesday afternoon. At work? Then notice the people around and pretend that you have an irritable itch.

I can think of many more small reasons to feel happy for life but then I feel the world around me has turned anhedonic and what makes them happy is success, power, money and everything else thats nothing but temporary. I guess people would laugh at me for being a dorky dreamer or a whacko freak but then I’ve learnt to not give a shit and then again – Ignorance is bliss! I feel sad for myself cause I’m part of the mob and I sometimes tend to flow in its flow. Here again, I remember the time when I was in love. Man!! I so miss those seconds… those seconds when I watched her walk back home and I waited for her to fade off, waited for her to whisper a ‘love you’ as she clenched onto my jelly belly and we drove off to nowhere, watched her eyes close ever so slowly as we kissed; seemed like eons of neverending glee… THEN! Now, I don’t quite know what to make of all of that. I’m just part of the move on generation and all I can do is move on ever so nonchalant, lost for words and love.

-Anup

Education – overrated.

Burdened by books
Burdened by books

I’ve always been strongly opiniated about the fact that education isn’t merely restricted to the letters you add to your name and the data you can mug up in order to attain those degrees and letters. Mugging up or by-hearting as we call it has been something I’ve despised from the time I started dealing with the harsh reality of not being a very bright student, or so they declared – average. An average student. Why? Like I said in my previous post, a B+ was the best letter on my score card and I was proud of my achievement because mugging up was the hardest thing for me to do. I couldn’t quite understand its need. Why should I mug up? I could never absorb the meriting system in school and shrunk away from any kind of competitive exams. These were ruled by the so called brighter blob of the mob that we were. A mob of culturally, intellectually and linguistically different people. The cream, I remember, consisted of a handful of kids who either had photogenic memory (lucky by birth) or the sloggers; those who burnt the night oil all through the year (academically forward by choice). I wouldn’t classify either of these two sets of people as “intelligent” though. These were and are kids who manage to vomit information onto the answer paper. Doesn’t make them anymore intelligent than what I am.

Intelligent, as far as I’m concerned are those kids who can reason. Those who can answer by giving solutions to problems and not spilling out solutions given by someone else. Intelligence is the watermark which differentiates people who can absorb, understand and radiate; contradicting the current theory that kids who have a good academic track record are intelligent. They are good with books, no doubt but thats just about where the comparison ends. I used to hate being in competition with any of these nerds. I have had my way with books and I’d want it to be that way. I have never mugged up and I will never do it in the future either. Its alright if that makes me a failure. I have my principles and I will live by them. Also, not to forgot, I have met very few people whom I consider intelligent and Sanket is one of them. We call him scientific Sanket, just for kicks. This is a guy you could turn to for reasons on anything and everything. Luckily, he isn’t the kinds who’d slog either. Thats precisely what I like about him. He’s plain intelligent. No more flattery. Another thing I’ve learnt from him is that intelligent people (the real ones) tend to be people who cannot accept the fact that they can be wrong once in a while, they are arrogant (mostly) and most of them think of you and me as pests. Just my hypothesis. Its alright if there are no takers to my thesis.

The education system we have in India has been flawed forever now and even though I see some improvements cropping up now especially in parts of Kerala, the overall dearth in intelligent people lead me to believe that we need an awakening. The possibility of which is very grim since we currently have a fatherhood of people who are from the immediate post-independance era. Thus, according to them, education is limited to what is taught in school, whats mugged up and puked out. Its in your head only if its in your scorecard. I’m hoping, from the pit of my heart that things change. Education be more interactive and thought provoking than what it is. There should be optional subjects of study. And as far as choosing a stream of study, a profession and everything along its path, this should be left upto the individual. All the parents must do is to support him/her in whatever way they can. I sometimes see the plight of little kids carrying bagpacks twice their own size. I’ve known of 12 year old kids who don’t play anymore because they have three competitive exams coming up and they have homework. So what about the simpler, more important pleasures in life as a kid? What about playing games, falling and hurting yourself, teasing and be teased, friendship? I mean, would all of this be limited to the walls engulfing the little ones along with stacks of never ending books? I shudder at the very thought of such a fate!

I’m sometimes amazed at how I achieved what I did. How did I ever complete 12 years of schooling and around 6 years of college (Junior and Senior) I have no clue of how I managed to get that Bachelors degree. I cross my heart and hope to die, I haven’t mugged up ever since I was like what 10. I still managed to clear and not only clear, I did average on most occasions. Until there was the time when I was the prodigal son who broke a fathers dream and instead of going into Engineering I turned to a stream I knew I’d never be happy in – Commerce. I had to do that cause I scored outrageously bad in my 12th boards. I faintly remember those years and I can’t stop smiling. There was this godly hand above me else I’d never have cleared academics. Dad still seems to dwelve in the possibility of me educating myself further. I always lose in a debate or an argument when it comes to dad because I can’t yell at him like he can. That’d mean I’m being disrespectful. After a certain point its just waiting… waiting for the collosal damage being done to whatever I’ve accomplished so far to end. Waiting in brutal agony. Sometimes, I think about ways in which I could make him happy. But then, guess what? There isn’t any. He seems to have given up on me. His son couldn’t be an Engineer. Pfft, loser. Anyway, here’s a public apology father. I’m very sorry I couldn’t accomplish your dreams for me. I wasn’t made to study a course which required a lot of money and dedication. I’m too much in love with life and I’d like to LIVE every second of it. I never wanted to be an Engineer. And yes, I couldn’t be one even if I wanted to be. I do not understand derivatives and integration and trigo. I don’t understand their purpose in my life. It was too much of a burden on me anyway. WARNING: no misconceptions here. I love my dad very much. I couldn’t get him what he wanted and I feel sorry about it but he’s my role model. I wish I was as perseverant as he is. I wish I was as awesome as he is! But dad, lets agree? Educated today is overrated and I’m a living testament to the fact that you can do well without an Engineering degree. Booyah!

-Anup

The bus date.

There’s something unusual that happened to me on my bus ride back to Bangalore and it was just as unexpected as an A on my school report card. Sigh, that never happened. Of All the 12 years that I studied in school; I never managed to score above B+. I was an average student but that doesn’t make me an average brain and an average person, does it? Well, my dad thinks it does. Actually, I guess he goes one step further and its not only him but almost all who were born in the early after independence era in India believe in the power of education. Ohh well, we’ll get to that. Now where was I? Ahh yes, the bus ride back to Bangalore. Its a story worth telling and I’ll most probably move to dialogues somewhere down the line. I get bored of narrations these days.

If I didn’t already mention I was super excited that I was coming back home. My flat that is. I’ve grown very fond of it and it seems like the safest place for me. No tormenting notes on how I need to study. No sarcastic comments on how I need to exercise. No anecdotes about how good the other kids are. God damn it – I don’t wanna fucking change, alright? So yeah, when I’m here it seems as if though no one can bother me. I like being here even if it makes me an antisocial rather nocturnal mammal who comes out only at night to feed. Now whom do I sound like? A vampire or a bartender? Whoever. I was happier than usual about boarding the bus back and I rushed to the bus stand as early as I could on the 3rd. On my way back, I did contemplate the fact that my actions could have hurt my mom and sister but then, there’s a limit to the amount of word lashes I can take. I’m usually never lucky when it comes to such situations. Like the guys in the movies? They always seem to get the best seat. The one adjacent to the heroine. The pretty one I mean. I’ve endured some horrendous people the last couple of times that I’ve taken to a long bus journey. I was scared of a similar situation this time.

You know what pisses me off? Its not that I don’t get seated to the best girl in the bus. Its just that I get seated to the worst person ever! This happens almost all the times. Its most usually a fat bugger (much fatter than me) who eats like a pig, laughs like a maniac and snores like an angry bull! I was hoping… praying if I remember right. Please lord, I’d be happy if no one sits next to me but let it not be a fat, snory bastard. I’m fat and it just makes the whole seating arrangement uncomfortable. Abhi and me were waiting at the bus stop; bird watching as usual. We oogled at a few girls, some good and the others weird. Abhi has a weird choice when it comes to women. Or maybe I have a weird choice *winks* Here is when I noticed this orange-topped, jeans clad, slippers on feet and kajal in eyes girl walk across the road with her family. She was cute, not the cutest I had seen but cute nevertheless. She looked like someone I like a lot. Quite a few pimples on her face, most of them fading off but still there. Specks, cute ones at that. She had this odd green bagpack and she had a constant smile on her face. By this time I got Abhi to leave and hoped for the best.

The bus arrived 15 minutes late and I was the first one to board it. She was right behind me and we got our stuff loaded into the bus’ belly. I was on seat number 13 and I settled down. I guess she was seat number 8 or something. Not sure but she sat in the seat adjacent to the one in front of me. Simply put, I could see what she typed on her cell phone when sent out those many happy new year messages. Now what kinda sick freak would do that, nay? What the hell? I’ve got eyes alright? And I see things. There’s no stopping that. Halfway down and at Swargate, I noticed that there was no one next to me. I was thrilled and I whistled a bit. Thats when mom called and we discussed about the bus ride in malayalam. She turned back, looked at me and smiled. After which she proceeded to untie her hair and call someone on her phone and yeah, she spoke in malayalam; as if to tell me something; or so I thought or hoped even. I also noticed how easy it was for two chicks to kick start a conversation because she started chatting up with the girl who sat in the seat in front of her. How easy is that? Talking to random strangers that is. Doesn’t it take time? I thought. Or maybe its female bonding. Here is where lightning struck the both of us. First her and then me. This fat dude in his late 50’s ran in and bounced around his seat before finally rebounding onto it. He could hardly fit in and fiddled around with his luggage trying to push it into all corners of the bus. His suitcase worried me because he had strategically placed it to my top right from where it’d give me a mole on my head anytime the bus swerved. She had a sick look on her face as he sulkily spoke on his phone to someone about how he hated traveling in buses. I praised the lord that I was still alone. Next stop – entry into Pune-Bangalore highway, the Katraj cut and here is when misfortune found me. The next fat dude in his late 20’s thus stuck on his phone in ultra loud marwadi came pounding in through the door and jumped into the seat next to me. Pfft, what rotten luck I thought and slumped into my seat music blaring into my ears trying to avoid whatever the fuck it was that he was saying on his phone. He spoke so loud that it annoyed the entire bus and I was hoping that the bus driver would throw him out. Gujju, Marwadi and other north Indian languages are just as annoying to me as my language, malayalam is to them. Its like a mosquito in your ears that’d beeeeeeeeep non stop on a fanless night.

There was this messy family that got into the bus too. It wasn’t actually the family that was going to Bangalore, it was just the daughter of the house and thus the entire family was there to witness her awesomeness. They hugged and kissed her so much that I thought she’d need a shower. Her mom wasn’t ready to leave the bus and I cursed my luck for it was getting late. This girl was funny looking cause she wore a pullover and track pants. So the women next to her asked, “So you going to play for the state or something?” and she says, “No, I am not” then the woman, “You look like you’re going to play and all that…duh!” she gives the woman a ‘god damn you look’ and says, “Nah, just… style hai!” and I’m sitting there wondering to myself about why god has to do this to me! Why wouldn’t the bus just leave? To add to all this, the driver loves the song ‘Hum to thehre pardesi.. saath kya nibhaooge..” he repeated it a few times and I nearly had a nervous breakdown. We finally moved and the fat fuck next to me called the bus-boy aside and discussed his chances of moving to the seat behind us – what luck!! Those seats weren’t taken until Kolhapur and he dragged himself onto seat number 18. Here is when the girl I was talking about spoke to the bus-boy and from what I could make out, I guessed that she’d be coming next to me. Damn! the gods must be crazy today, I thought. She got up, and said, “Excuse me…” and gave me the ‘move your fat ass’ look. I was kinda lost in thoughts and hadn’t noticed her come next to my seat. I obliged and she sat next to me. We didn’t talk for a while. I pretended to be lost in reading the book I had and she continued with her sms’ and many phone calls. The bus sped on and out of Pune. I didn’t quite notice her since I was consciously trying to avoid a conversation. I get funny during such circumstances. She began talking..

She: Malayali ano? (You a mallu?)

Me: Ade, Malayali ano? (Yes, you a mallu too?) I mean, what kinda stupid question was that?

She: Ella… (No)

Me: Pinne? (So..?)

She: I know malayalam and I speak Tamil, we’re from Pallakad.

Me: Ahhh, thats why.

She: Enikyu seats shift cheyyandi vannu… ayalude phone samsaram sahikyan vayya, pinne seat ayalku pora, appo sthalam vittu kodutu (Had to shift my seats, his phone talks got annoying and he needed the whole seat, so left it for him)

Me: Hmmm, toni enikyu (I thought so) Ende adutu irinne aalude idu tanne ayirinnu kuyappam, pashe ayal pinnilite seatilkyu maari (The guy who sat next to me was similar, but he luckily moved behind)

She: Guess we can get back to English now?

Me: Don’t quite mind whatever.

She: So, you from Pune? Or Bangalore?

Me: From Pune, working in Bangalore.

She: HP?

Me: How did you know?

She: Noticed your bag when you climbed the bus.

Me: Yeah, HP. What about you?

She: Ohh, I’m studying and I work for animal welfare.

Me: Nice! So what were you doing in Pune?

She: I’m from Pune. Moved to Bangalore a few years ago. Couldn’t manage an engineering seat in Pune.

Me: Ohh, Engineering? Heard thats fun.

She: Dunno, just wanna get over with it.

Here, the conversation slowly died out and I continued with my book, music and random thoughts of how my rotten luck had changed for the day. I think I dozed off and woke up with a jerk when she patted my shoulders. “Tea?” she said. “Yeah, have we stopped?” I asked sheepishly. “Thats why I asked, lets go, everyone else is off the bus. You need to move for me to get out of this seating arrangement. This is so uncomfortable!” We got up and walked out to the dhaba we had stopped at for tea and bathroom related activities. We had a quite tea break and didn’t speak much. The journey from there to the next stop for dinner seemed to have flown by. She was a chatterbox and would just not shut up. In the cute kinda way, I’d add. We spoke about food, music, education and politics. I guess she was taken aback and turned off by my apathy towards the subject. I mean, what the hell? I don’t give a fuck. Dinner was good and she continued blabbering about her countless little tips on bettering the world. I’m a good listener and thats what I did on most of the occasions. Except for the regular wise inputs which she seemed to relish and that would just mean that she’d dig further into the subject. The best argument was on why education is over-rated and she sounded like my dad sometimes. Anyway, big deal; I offered to help her securing a job after she finished Engineering, heh.

Here on, sleep was ruined for all of us in the bus because those couple of fatso’s decided to play ‘Who snores louder’ MAN!!! snoring is the most annoying thing ever, I tell you. I relied on my mp3 player to get over the night. We got talking again for a while when we stopped for re-fuelling and she needed to use the restroom. So I walked with her and had to wait outside the ladies restroom. It was an awkward feeling, but I thought it was worth the trouble. We hadn’t bothered asking for names, but I picked up that her name was Swapna from one of the phone called she received. We somehow managed to doze off and it was around 7 when I opened my eyes and we had nearly reached Majestic. She was tying her hair and wished me the most pleasantest greeting ever! “Good morning! I’m so happy that you didn’t snore…” and we shared a laugh! That was just about it. I picked up my bag and she picked hers up. We walked out, got our luggage. I turned around, tilted my head a bit to say good bye and walked into the waiting auto. No names, no keep in touch, no nothing. Don’t ask me about what it was that I was thinking. But then, some things are better best forgotten. I’d always remember the day luck shined on me. An awesome bus date. God bless the cutey.

-Anup

The last month – year 2008

I’ve been shying away from doing what I think I do best – write and express. Reasons unlimited; but one of the main culprits being my lethargy. Usually, I don’t need to try when I wish to express myself in words. I open up an instance of notepad.exe, place my fingers on the keybee and lo! I’m off. Typing away all the words I never knew off. Actions and emotions seem to flow out of my fingers in perfect sync and harmony, ready to be presented to the data hungry world online. Now I know very well that no one cares about happy times. They want depression, anger, hatred and heavy words. Simple instances of beauty, humility, modesty, friendship and others aren’t relished by the masses and I’m lucky that I write for myself and no one else. I sometimes wonder about journalists and all those who write for the mob. It’d be so difficult to satisfy the masses. I was so excited about the long vacation that I’m living right now that I didn’t feel like writing anything. I just wanted to get out of my flat and come here, Pune. I thought I’d suffer but whats this new feeling all about? I feel super good! Especially since I realize every second that passes by that she is out of my system. M.G road no more brings back old memories. Pune Central does not bring back flashbacks that pull the skin out of me. It all feels new and just like any other city. It feels like… re-incarnation.

Some parts of last month; December that is, it seemed like my life was fast forwarded and some other times it felt like I was living bullet time. I remember being hyper excited about going to Pallakad and attending Ratheesh’s wedding. Duh! and suddenly its two weeks and more past his wedding. I attended all the three weddings and one chilly reception. I’ve traveled a lot and I’ve been sick and coughy these past few days. Pune does that to me. I’ve never managed to adapt to Pune’s climate; even though I’ve lived here all my life. Bangalore seems to suit my health. I hardly fell ill when I was there. Thats like an entire year! I’ve been in Pune for almost two weeks now and I’m sure that I’ve been sick for 8 days out of the 14 odd days. Its alright though cause I spent most of my time with mom and Sneha and they’re super happy that I wasn’t out. Other landmarks achieved in December – Abhi and Muiz are not single anymore. Sigh. Muiz, well, doesn’t matter much to me – him getting married. He didn’t give a fuck about the friends he supposedly has anyway. Shaista is an angel and I’ve known her from the time I’ve known Muiz. She’s been there with us on almost all our important occasions and she’s an awesome woman. Muiz is a lucky dog! God bless the both of them. Hmmm, bless Shaista more though. Muiz is an ass! Abhi and his woman seem like a match made in heaven. I don’t want to jump ahead of my shoes right now but from whatever I have seen, he couldn’t have found a better girl. She’s just as angelic! God bless the both of them too.

I’d want to write more about my stay in Pune but like I said, there wasn’t much that happened except for the weddings and home. I wasn’t relishing the idea of being stuck at home on New Years, but then, I was sick out of my throat, lungs and other important organs so I just couldn’t move. Its then that it dawned upon me that I have bronchitis and I shouldn’t take cold lightly. Yeah, so thats how I spent new years, watching TV and hoping for the best. Other highlights – I met school friends – Rakesh, Nishant and Deepak. I visited burger king for like the first time ever! Seemed like these guys were frequent visitors there. The other thing I noticed was that a girl perched on the rear seat (consider a bike) unavoidably increases your travel time from point A to point B. It took us around 35 minutes to reach a spot in the city which I used to take an hour to accomplish when she was clinging on, talking into my ears. I also met Neha and that was a hell of a lot of fun because she talks a lot and I like people who’d talk without thinking too much. She and me used to chat a lot when we’d be partnered together in school. She hasn’t changed a lot; except for the degrees, added female attitude, beauty and the scarf on her face. Well, yeah, its a Pune thing. Every girl with a bike would have a scarf on her face. Its protection and style in one scarf. Duh! Short notes on my stay in Pune –

– Attended Abhi’s wedding.
– Attended Shaista’s wedding. Muiz, you suck!
– Attended Shaista’s reception. She looked gorgeous on both occasions.
– Managed to complete a lunch arrangement for the creator – Abhi and his wife Bhagyashree. I was glorified by their presence in my house *winks*
– Met a lot of important people; Smikh, Sonu, Vivek, Pramod, Rakesh, Nishant, Deepak, Govind, Neha, Sanket and a few others.
– Spent a lot of quality time at home – Mom and Sneha.
– Presented myself to dad so that he could advice, talk, yell, talk eblish and vent as much as he could! I’m alright if that helps reduce his BP.
– Read a few good books.

So that was the end of year 2008 and yes, I hope for the best in the coming year. Wish you’ll who read here a happy new year. God bless.

-Anup