On a rather long hiatus until mid January 2009. Will be visiting Kerala and Pune on account of the many weddings that I need to attend. I miss writing here. Fact is, there isn’t a lot of interesting things happening in and around my life to write about. Most of the things I read or see is depressing and there are a million people out there expressing their views on the very same subject. My views and opinions on and about them seem to make no difference so I’d choose to be a realist and just be mum. Also, I’m done with the many people in my life; liars masquerading as friends.
I’ve been going through a phase in my life where I’m trying to fight a side of me that I don’t like. I’m trying to fight a loving family thats weighing me down with expectations and desires that I cannot always fulfill however hard I try. Career related confusions which puts me and a very important person through a lot of trouble. Well, I’m in trouble cause he’s in trouble. I just can’t seem to make my god damned mind on what I want and this is not new to me. I’ve always been a fucking confuscio. Mangled by my own selfish self and the world which seems to be just as selfish and cruel. Everyone is selfish; I’d say. No ones a saint and I’d dare all those who’d say that they are! Like they put in a 100% from their side for someone else without expecting something in return.
Then again, I have my ongoing war with an alter-ego that I just can’t resist. He is too strong for me and wants me to do things which I know will destroy my otherwise sane and simple life which is so meticulously planned out that you’d almost miss the boredom written all over it. Its somewhat like Mozarts music. A melody that you pretend to like or a shady corner in a rain filled sunny day. Since I mentioned him; my other side that is… its not like he is a bad person. I mean, he’s nowhere close to being bad. Its just something I’ve wanted since the time I saw the movie “Into the wild” and in it I heard the song – Hard sun by Eddie Vedder. I really want to do that, you know? I’m not sure if I’d burn money like he did cause I don’t have any. Nothing but debt which’d take me over 3 years more of work to pay up and thats if I don’t keep adding more to it. Fuck! I’m in a vicious circle. Dad had warned me but I chose to ignore him as per uge! Coming back to the wild part of me – my recent roadtrip to Kerala has ignited the desire to wander off to nowhere and be completely out of touch; at least for a while. Sadly, all I can think of for now is the next movie I’d queue in. Drab ehh? Not really. I’m alright and I find absolute bliss in the ‘alone’ but unlonely life I live. Before I get down to discussing what I really wanted to say, here’s something I sung recently. Turned out good:
The very reason I decided to include my previous story before this post was to show myself and the others about the wear and tear my thought process and inversely, my writing has gone through over the years. Especially since I seem to think out the stuff I write these days rather than heart it out. I’ve hated that and I’ve always preached against people taking time off to write and you know… make an effort. The words should flow; right from your heart, proceed to the brain, no filters applied, go through to your blood and then seamlessly move into your fingers and out onto paper. Thats when it’ll really work; I feel. Making an attempt never helps for me and thats what I wanted to tell myself. YELL IT OUT EVEN! Here’s what a 17 year old me wrote:
The prodigal son:
For the last twenty years you tolerated me,
But, it was difficult for me
to be the way you wanted me to be…
It’s unbearable for you to see me in pain I know,
Crappy fuck you have to reap the seeds you sow.
Dad, you know? … you are my idol,
Again, I don’t intend on making academics my bridle…
I don’t wish to be what you have been,
An under to a jerk, thats all you have seen.
Not that I am some able dearth,
To reach some where near your worth…
Easier said than done,
The illusions of my mind make me a prodigal son.
As I sit typing and chatting shit,
All day long to virtual beauty tits.
I know it’s high time I gave it a chuck,
Hah, you know what? I am the biggest schmuck!
I love you dad… and your wife?
She means every thing to me in my life.
You never let me out of hugs and cash,
But your words were harder than a leathered whiplash.
I am not sorry to be what I am,
But now its difficult to shun,
And quit being a PRODIGAL SON!
I walk my life alone,
Redeeming the deeds that I have yet to mourn.
I’ve always been there,
In gods court; he was always unfair.
He gave me goodness that I never deserved,
Then asked me for justification which I never preserved.
He wrote upon me, his able son,
A chapter that was to never begun.
Joy is just one side of the coin,
Pain and suffering plagues the other.
Someone asked me the other day,
Doesn’t pain give you pleasure?
I was dumbfounded, did not know where to start…
Couldn’t let her know that, “Hey! that was smart.”
She was a feline when it came to curiousness,
and look at me boasting prolific seriousness.
She gave me a shirk, looking at my bening self,
But in my dark ignorance I continued to delve.
Finally I realized; late but yeah… there was light,
I ran towards enlightment with all my might.
And lastly… I could see glow.
The redemptions of my life – All the pain and suffering,
Which were aflow.
So you read that and you read the story beneath it, you’d see what bothers me. I’m letting the pitious ambience I live in get to me. Its alright that its getting to me, but I shouldn’t let it reach my writing. I do well when I don’t force myself. I hated that story but I’m going to let it stay. Just so that I remember that however vicious the circle be around me, I should be me!
Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. Every asshole is just as stinky as every other from where you and I are. In fact, I’d go on to say, “I don’t care about what you think!” but that’d just be me; exaggerating my aggravated ego which seems to grow on me as each day passes. I don’t like the part where people annoy me. It just seems to make me very vulnerable. I seem to make it very obvious to friends and everyday passerby’s that you’d be able to crack me up just by telling me that I’m wrong. Its that way for most of us, but I’d want to be like Chetan in this case. Strong… so much so that you just can’t move him. Your feeble attempts at getting him out of his comfortable stance will fall on deaf ears. Your opinions and thoughts will be filtered out and he’ll take only what he wants to hear. He’d appear to be the most calm and composed person ever; pretending to listen to you but there’d be a ton of other more important things (for him) going on in his head. I’d want to be like that, but then, somehow I hate it when people try to impose their likes, opinions and ideas on me. I don’t do that to anyone. I delve in my own hole and I seem to be able to make myself happy without having to try too hard. Somehow, I have no complexes and I don’t need to put people down to boost my ego. I can do that by just living!
So you like this and I like that. Did I tell you to like that? Then why do you expect me to like this? Did I say this was bad and that was better? Did I even ask you about this? Did I ask you to like that? I wonder why some people seem to have this compulsive need to bestow their opinions down onto you, like they are the masters of this universe and what they think and know should be universally accepted. Your opinion is just as stinky as mine so why don’t you savor your pudding and let me enjoy mine? Hell no! With some people this just won’t work. They are incorrigible and they think the world of themselves. I really don’t want to be bitching like this on a blog that no one reads but then I wasn’t sure about any other place to vent. And guess the funny part? Most of these self obsessive parasites of originality are amongst your circle of family and friends and there is nothing you can do to escape their wrath! God dammit people; don’t you’ll get the simple point here? To what dogma’s do all minds agree? See my point, please… I LIKE THIS AND NOT THAT period
Moving on to something more interesting – my drive down to Kerala is all planned and I can’t wait anymore. I’ve been waiting for a chance to unwind (mostly within myself) and uhm, enjoy some nature maybe, get some photography done, be with family and go on a long drive. This trip gives me all that I wanted and more. I got my baby serviced and she’s sparkling clean now. The engineer at Mandovi explained the functioning of the A/C and also told me that it was but obvious for it to get so dusty inside when I had the front filter button turned off. I got it cleaned and polished inside, oil and water change, gear tested, brakes tested and overall the guy thought my car was doing very well. No problems whatsoever with the engine, clutch or the alignment. All’s good – so fuck you! Yeah you who thinks I don’t drive right *winks* Not to forget, I witnessed a not-so-funny incident in Forum the other day. I was staring at this couple as I rose onto the second floor via the elevator which seemed to be slower than ever. This was perhaps the cutest couple I had seen that day and I was about to do my usual thing where I’d look at them, smile and whisper a ‘bless you!’ but here is where things went wrong. Both of them were cuddled up peering into the crowd below and I thought they were smiling. They were standing next to each other arm to arm and the girl seemed to be playing with his hair. Out of nowhere the guy (using his elbow) back punches the girl on her nose sending her back in agony almost cursing aloud. And my face goes from the “God bless you’ll look” to the “Dude? What the fuck?” look and he notices me and 4 other guys on the other side staring at him. Here (realizing that we saw that) the girl suddenly starts laughing and tickling him. He; still shocked to notice us noticing him tries to play along but looks miserably darned and the both of them fizzle out of there. Man that was weird. I had a bitter feeling in my mind for the entire evening. What’s wrong with people?
In other news; my workshop on creating writing comes to an end on Saturday the 8th and I’m very satisfied with its outcome. An awesome teacher, a few good people to have known and some rock solid information. We’re having this session come party thing on Saturday and that’d be it. I must continue writing on my book. It is a very difficult process they say and it’d take more than just will to see your words end with someone’s smile, laughter or tears. I assume it’d feel like suspended animation; total bliss! Anyhoo, I’m hoping to write more once after I’m done with the whole thing in December and a couple of other things on my mind. I’m hoping to continue work on it in January. I saw the movie – Body of Lies and I’d strongly recommend it. Everything about that movie rocks, so I won’t talk much about it. Just watch it! That’s just about it. I might not be able to write anything before I leave on Sunday. So I guess I’ll see you guys after I return and yes, I will make notes and provide a complete travel-log when I return. Ohh and I’d like to end with something I wrote in class in the last session:
I peered into the strange cloud above my head,
As if trying to steal a sneak peak into whats inside.
Strange; cause it had no silver lining…
Just another wet cloud above my bed.
Love has been like that for me,
The most broken gift that it could ever be.
The cloud never thunders and bursts,
It just seems to hang on choking me as it does…
Clusters of love from you that turned to dust.
The cloud is full of questions and I drift…
Is it me or him that she loves?
God damn this strange cloud of love;
Can’t you just rain it down on me and stop being up above?
I’ve been tagged! I’ve been in a state of animated bliss of late and I sincerely apologize to all the readers because I don’t know why. Sometimes I feel like I’m falling in love and then I take a step back. Mostly because my recent love-addiction turned out to be my worst nightmare and I’m still recovering from its rather long-lasting aftermath. That’s one thing too many in one, if you know what I mean. If you don’t – Its just one thing (seemingly) but its like an onion skin. The deeper you dig the more you tear up and the lesser you get out of it. Arghhh! What the fuck is wrong with me? Ranting unreasonably has become a thing with me these days. I can’t let myself fall in love because if I do; this time, I’ll surely lose some very important people and I’m not taking chances. Nope, I’m not in for a gamble Abhi. She’s special though, no doubt! Coming back to my point – I’ve been tagged by Layman and he’s one amongst two people I’ve met through my blog and theirs. Some strangers are nice and thats not because they are mallus.
I’m not going to be generic when talking about stuff that I’m addicted to. I mean, it’d be just another clichéd post if I say I’m addicted to my friends, family, food and water. I’m sure these would be taken for granted. I’d talk about the broader ideas here or lets say my abstract addictions. My addictions(as of now) are as follows:
Taking into account simple facts like my age and where I come from, it wouldn’t be unusual for me to be addicted to the activities that entertain me. Rock music, movies – gore, sci-fi, thrillers, romance; you name it and I’ve been there. Gaming and my genuinely large cd/dvd collection of movies stands testament to the fact that I’m making ample use of my uber cool tv without having subscribed to Tata Sky which charges an exorbitant amount as compared to the local cable walas who’d drive you nuts with their poor quality picture. I’ve since then decided to stick to my games and movies. I’m addicted to my PS2. Games like God of War, Final Fantasy and Devil May Cry take me into a fantastic world where I can do what I could otherwise never have. Run in bullet time, shoot like a mad-man, slash a sword, fight my evil twin and finally, MAGIC! I’m addicted to music, to the likes of Pink Floyd, Staind, POTF and many others and I can hereby declare that I cannot live without the album “The Division Bell” Movie addiction includes Hollywood and almost all in the mallu movie range. Mohanlal movies time spanned between 1980 to around 2000 are awesome and I’d watch a re-run any day!
2) My computers
I know that I could have easily included this in the addiction above but then I wanted to highlight this as a cut above the classification of entertainment and more about why I’m addicted to these boxes in black. I have even named my computer and he’s had that name since the time I bought him. Which was around 4 years ago. I’ve kept on adding things to his stomach which made him faster and stronger but I’ve referred to him as Blacky forever now. I’m addicted to the box and there is no turning away. It earns me my living, keeps me connected to my loved ones, lets me learn a lot of new things and most importantly; it is the source of almost all the things and feelings that keeps me alive. Its me in an inorganic form. I’m in love with the box and I don’t want to do anything about it. Computers in plural there because I now have a lappy (HP given) and its a very handy thing. I’m not too attached to it because I may have to give it away some day.
Like I’ve mentioned before my addiction to the language is something I’ve been almost brutal with. Abhi is a liar when he proclaims that I condemn the English speaking skills of other people. I’ve never done that. Neither have I ever boasted about my way with the language. Its my never ending love for it which has gotten me addicted to the language. This along with computers paved my way into a secure more bright future and I’m thankful for what its given me. I’m addicted to using it as much as possible. Even at home! Thats a funny thing overall. I’m multicultural at home. Dad – English, Sneha – Hindi, Mom – Malayalam. Sometimes its a mix and I’d like to refer to it as Einglam though Sneha calls it Hinglish.
My writing isn’t limited to my blogs and that’s something I’m kinda happy about. I have a journal (however girly this might sound; alright, fuck you guys!). Mostly, I’d keep the sensitive, emotional and more curious side of me to my journal and those questions are only for me to answer. The blog is a place where I vent out, rant and more recently reach out. I love the thought of meeting up like minded people. Mob who loves writing has always been one of my fantasies. Like a blog meet maybe? I noticed that there were a few that happened recently and they turned out to be a huge success. I’d totally love to meet more people addicted to blogging or writing thereby! I’d rather not talk about it, but then I have the itch, the inexhaustible itch to talk about something I really wanna hide. I’m working on a book, a novel even. I know I’m not brilliant but I’m surely capable and my story is worth a chance to be read
Shopping is not only my secret hideout when I’m scared, defeated and dejected but its also what brings me the feel good factor when I’m bored and out of things to do. Now I know that this sounds a bit stupid but then, it helps me and I’m sure it helps a lot of others. Its a known fact that buying things for yourself makes you feel happy. Gives you the punch you need when you want to mourn some more and are out of energy! Heh, thats what happened to me when I was in an abysmal state. A few sub-addictions here are – shopping for food! I am a foodie (says Abhi) and then I love spending the money I earn.
Guess that’s about it. There are a lot of other addictions but they are a bit too important to elaborate. I’d just name them though – Family, Friends and love. I’m addicted to them and I’d be addicted for life. Uhm, that concludes this rather massive but fun post and I’d like to thank Layman for throwing this in. Also, not to forget, I’m going on a road trip next weekend. I’d be leaving Bangalore on Sunday the 9th and I’m driving down to Kerala – Trichur. Funny thing is; I have no clue about the road and I’m going to depend on my cousin who’d be accompanying me. Da Layman, where in Kerala are you?
We’ve heard this so many times – Life’s a bitch! People casually talking about life as if they know what it is all about. Now, I’m by no means indicating that I’m out of the crowd here. I’m just as self-righteous as all those stupid-ass mortals who think they know what life is and brag about how sad they are for not being closer to god. Just so that they can brown-nose him into a life on a bed of fluff. You know what amazes me the most? People. Everything about all these people around me. Some in real life, some on TV and on all those series and sitcoms I watch. Somehow, their life seems to be all full of drama. How do they have all this drama? Do we really have all this drama to life? Seriously, isn’t it so easy to live? Be happy, smile, be friends, not be rude and most importantly be a nice human being. How difficult is this? I think it’s easy, but what we humans live for is the spice. We don’t want to eat tasteless food now, do we? You’d want it to be right on salt, chilly, pepper and be as spicy as possible. And the spice; which is drama in this case comes into life when you start feeling its bland – tasteless.
I tend to observe people and I manage to not attract their attention somehow. I don’t quite know if this is a good thing, but then people seem to be so oblivious of me being next to them, observing them, looking directly into their eyes, studying them and sometimes even snooping into what they say. Mostly, I wouldn’t make head or tails out of whatever it is that they speak, but I still love eavesdropping; especially if its people I don’t know remotely. Listening in on women chatter is very fruitful I might add, they think they know a lot and they think being a woman is the most difficult thing ever. Sometimes, in some women; I can distinctly smell a sense of superiority a superlative magnetism around them. An aura so strong that it deflects me away from them, just wanting to run away. Cause in my eyes, their reason for existing ends when they radiate the nothing that we all are. We are all nothing without each other. I wonder how it is that people don’t understand our binding. I am bound to the world and thus I’m bound to each and every human being on it. You need me just as much as I need you and there is no running away. But I try running anyway. Speaking of which; the MNS drama which happened recently in Maharashtra. What was that? I mean, what the fuck is he thinking? You think you can drive us away from where we live Mr. Thackeray? That’s our land just as much as its yours and we’ve lived there since times immortal. This is my country and you are a no one. Hear me? You’re a no-one and you’re not telling any one of us about where we can or cannot come! Do whatever the fuck it is that you want. You or your minions don’t scare me. Thats my land and I’m going to stick.
Going back on the drama bit – I thought about dramas and about how weird they are because of a couple of incidents. The first being the part where the drunk wife beater came back and this time he bought along some real nasty men. He nearly broke into the docs house but that’s when the watchman convinced him that there was no one home and it’d be pointless. This time I chose to listen in on the drama from within the safe walls of my room and it still sounded scary. Especially since Chetan scared the shit outta me the other day after knocking on my door and not answering my “Kaun hai?” question. My knees trembled for a full two hours after that. Mostly because of this and partly because I went with the guys for a drive in Ajay’s car when he was kinda high. Drunk people, however sweet they be scare me. Not that they’d physically harm me but you never know what they’d say. They have no emotional control and neither can they control what they think or talk so it kinda gets difficult if something I don’t want to hear falls out and I really did not want that. Somehow, that was wrapped up! Anyway, I thought about how inconsiderate people can be and about how money and power corrupts you and your thought process. This guy sounded like an educated guy with a very potty mouth and that disturbed me a lot. Then again, I was having breakfast at Adigas as usual and I had asked for Onion dosa. This usually takes more time that the rest and I stood by the counter; lost in some sort of a day dream when I noticed someone staring at me. Ever had that feeling where if you try hard enough and stare hard enough at someone even from behind them, they seem to turn back to look back at you? It’s happened to me and sometimes it seems like countless dejavu’s at the same time. It’s an awesome feeling when you get someone to look at you just by staring at them. I try doing this once in a while, but in this case I noticed this girl staring at me and it was not like a “ohh-what-a-hot-guy” stare (I look miserable and fat in my night clothes) and neither was it a “Ewww-ohh-no” look (I don’t deserve that for sure) it was more like the “Hmmm-do-I-know-you?” look and she seemed like someone I know or had seen before. I smiled because it was an awkward deadlock-in-the-eye situation. You know like when you’re staring at some girl’s boobs and she’d notice you? Well, no. Not that situation. You’d usually get the “Fuck you!” look back from her then. This was more the out the blue “do-I-know-you” stares from the both of us and I unknowingly smiled. Common courtesy, nay? She didn’t smile though. She lurked in the distance for a while trying to eat whatever it was that she seemed to be eating. It was more like she was swallowing food to avoid the hassle of chewing it. She had this thin, very frail, almost fragile body structure and was as tall as I am. This part of the story ends here.
The next part is more of a dialogue after I heard my bell ring today afternoon during my after work relaxation hours when I don’t like being disturbed. It’s been Greys Anatomy time for me and I love my time of peace. *Bell rings and I open the door*
Me: (Looking at the same girl, almost with the “what the bleep” look!) Yes? She: I’m sorry, I wanted to talk to you today morning itself, but you were in a hurry. Me: Hi, do I know you? She: Yes, I live two floors above you. We shifted a month back and you might remember us from the truck parked in front of the gate because you created a commotion since you had to leave for work and that truck had our stuff in it. Me: Ahhh, alright. I remember the mallu uncle. We had a small talk. She: Yes, that’s my dad and his shirt is in your balcony *sheepish look* and he didn’t want to come talk to you. Me: Ohh, no problem, let me go get it. I rarely go to the balcony so I wouldn’t have noticed.
I get the shirt, hand it over to her and she leaves after a quick round of profuse thankboration. I was so bored because she thanked me a bit too much. A simple “thanks” would suffice, you know? So my question here is simple, why the drama in this case? Just come over and ask me to get the shirt and I’d do it. What was she thinking? That I’d not return the shirt cause of my history with her dad? History? crap! I just asked him to get the truck outta my way cause I was late to work. Hmm, do I look like spice to you girl? *sigh* Just ask, kapiche? I watched a few movies. Disgifured and Dance of the dead are stuck to my head. I hope the lousy feeling these movies gave me wears out soon. Funny, but I failed an aptitude test this week and I gotta answer a repeat tomorrow. So, I’m thinking on lines of a good nights sleep. Also, I had a chance to write about my favorite character – Barney Stinson. I’m going to end with him –
So say hello to Barney Stinson! The ever so charming, enigmatic, magnetic and still higher on class and style kinda guy who isn’t someone you’d spot on a regular basis. He’s surely not someone you’d find idly squatting flies in a main street coffee bar. He’s the kinda guy you’d find hitting on single twenty-two something chicks but not in some random bar. You’d find him only in McClarens! Ohhh and the part where I spoke about single woman is not entirely true. Any twenty-two year old chick is what he’d want me to write about him. He’s one of the royals, chiefs if you may, of the endearing circle of Caucasian blonde men who can bag a girl by putting her down; sometimes even after calling her a filthy whore and sleeping with her mother. Now, ain’t that legendary?
Barney’s glow is an aura you can feel from a distance. The halo above his head is deadly red. It’s a clear pointer to the fact that within him resides a mythical creature so nasty that it’d devour you but you wouldn’t die. You’d just be reborn with some awesomeness added on. He is advisor to many youngsters who dream of jumping into the invigorating world of promiscuity and binge drinking. The one thing he really hates is marriage and commitment. Don’t marry for as long as you can is what he’d say. If you are feeble and cannot control your disease which limits you to emotional dysentery for a particular girl/boy that’s the only time you may even consider about getting engaged and thereby married, which again is not advisable until you hit the plum age of 30 and this is for men. For women, if you touch 30, you’ve touched your official “Ohh-no!” moment and you’re nothing but garbage. For men, that’s the age where you are at the pinnacle of physical attractiveness. His ideas are revolutionary and they’d not only make you giggle but also excite you beyond your wildest imagination.
Some of his achievements in the areas of being a womanizing dude maestro include but are not limited to the following:
– Discovery of the Vicki Mendonca diagonal formerly known as the hot crazy scale. This means that a girl is allowed to be crazy as long as she’s moving up the hot scale. Simply put if she’s an 8.5 on the crazy scale, she’d need to be a 9+ on the hot ruler. Else, she’s out and you need to throw the hook for fresh fish. If you tend to ignore the scale, you’ll just stink in the end and trust me, this has been proven time and again by Barney.
– Barney, unknown to many is the mystical BRO who wrote the BRO CODE! Bro code is a set of rules for bro’s who hit on women together in random bars or any street that you’d like. Bro’s are governed by these rules and the code is a death line. There are no government laws governing the way in which bro’s function and thus an able man had to step up and write a book of codes. A couple of rules: A bro shall at all cost inform a mutual bro on the occasion of a girl fight and of course the golden rule No sex with a bro’s ex.
Barney usually drops his knowledge about women, sex, money and power to four of his closest friends; Ted, Lily, Marshall and Robin. Most importantly, he isn’t like you and me and that’s precisely why they call him “The Barnicle” he is different because you’d never see him in Shirts, t-shirts or jeans and trousers. Barney dresses like a hunter, a hungry lion and he hunts in suits. He suits up to get laid and he does it in style. Secondly, while guys like you and me would hide our porn, he has them neatly arranged and lit; in red again and he’s proud of his sexuality! After all that we know about him, it’s the usual tendency of people to bend towards sympathizing for all those self-loathing idiotic girls who ever slept with Barney, but the real deal is – he doesn’t hurt anyone. He makes his intensions crystal and that’s not even solid by the way, but the women still seem to get his point. His apartment isn’t a place to leave a toothbrush or lingerie behind and neither should you curl up and sleep more than your usual 12 hour sex visa, 14 if you qualify for multiple entry. Like I said, Barney is a visionary and the lemon laws he makes is going to change the world some day.
Finally, the grey part but the most important reason to Barney’s amazing demeanor is the fact that you’d never get a chance to get him feeling low or sad. His usual take on this is, “When I feel sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead, true story!” This very take on life multiplies his awesomeness and yes, he is a force to reckon with! High five to Bimbo’s, Scotch and suits, or so he’d say.
Dimmed lights, a miniscule crowd, silence and some guy far away… vigorously tapping on his keyboard; thats morning shift for you. I love this shift and I prefer working early morning than the afternoons. Luckily, I have colleagues who prefer the afternoon shifts because they’d want to sleep late into the morning hours. I’ve been in love with the early morning hours since the time I can remember myself waking up for school. Dad brushing my teeth, telling me how important it is to brush our teeth carefully; sliding the brush from top to bottom than sideways. He’d then carefully use warm water (which mom heated up on the gas) to wash my face and hands. Mom would take on from here and get me dressed and packed up for school. By around 8:15 AM I’d find myself walking to my bus stop where I’d meet my school mates and we’d play football with those small infamous rubber balls which would most usually end with someone getting hurt, but we played anyway. The early morning sun beaming down upon us felt so good then! The only worries being about the test results or probably being beaten up by Rakesh. I wasn’t allowed to have coffee then. I was a kid and add to that I had asthama which dad was meticulously weeding off by means of homeopathy and loads of love and affection. I can still feel his cheeks against mine. That was how he’d measure body temprature. He doesn’t do that anymore… infact, he hardly talks to me and he probably has umpteen reasons to be so very disconnected from him son, pfft, can’t blame him.
Today, I can sip on a cuppa coffee and take a deep breath out there in the sun as it shines down on me glimmering away and flickering sometimes from between the trees that seem to only hide my troubles, pains and sorrows; just when you feel all smothered it’d gently sway away and let a beam pass by. Is this what you call a ray of hope?
Well, I love expresso but I prefer drinking tea at work because I have this thing where tea pwns* coffee (for me) if and when its a question of keeping me awake. Luckily for me, I have Hemant working with me today and thus I get to chat up with him and listen to some music as he goes on blabbering endlessly about information I don’t need. He’d talk about reports that I’m supposed to make but I don’t cause Microsoft excel IMHO, sucks. I hate the bloody software and I hate those stupid reports. What the fuck do they make out of all these reports anyway? Nothing. As far as I’m concerned – Do you have a problem? No? Well, then I’m doing my job right. There is no way to measure what I’m doing cause well, I’m not doing much. But I’m there, you know? Just in case you need me! I’m somewhat like a handgun if you’re dropping down into a pithole to explore the caves there; you’d rather carry one and brag about it than not carry it and die just in case a monster pops out from nowhere!
I picked up an expresso today, mostly cause I was lost in thought and to think and write truthfully, I was pretty lost for words. Here is when I started about the juncture where I left my last post at. So how exactly do you fill up the void? There is no arguement to the fact that you have a hole, an empty space when you lose someone you love. For some people (like the girl I loved in this case) its easy; filling up the black hole. Infact, they don’t even require time to feel sorrowful about losing something as precious as love. They don’t need to mourn the loss of a friend and companion. All they want to do is to move on. Is it that easy? I’ve tried very hard over the past 9 months to extract myself from the mess I fell into and I have been successful but to a certain extent. She hasn’t fully left me, you know? And strands of her that remains seem like hair in your food. You can remove whats fallen in and continue eating it as if nothing happened, but then it’d be there in the back of your mind about how contaminated your food was. Then there are people like me, who’d stare at the food, get up and leave. Other, more brighter people would just get themselves a fresh serving. The last option is the most difficult one, I feel. Also, after being hurt so bad in love, how do people trust enough to fall in love again? And most importantly, ever so quickly? How do people tend to forget marriages that were broken due to small ego-fights? Relationships these days seem so unreal and fickle. A strong bond seems to be a thing of the past. I hate the fuckin’ move-on generation. To describe my exact feelings, I’d have to use some words by Pink Floyd, but it makes sense. Its a song, but I’m just going to type it down – one sentence. I was spending my time in the doldrums. I was caught in a cauldron of hate. I felt persecuted and paralyzed. I thought everything else would just wait. Its a sad feeling and it takes a lot more than just optimistic thinking to get out of. The answer is pretty simple though. Its going to be like this till the time you find someone to fill the void. The only thing you need to take care of is to not make hasty choices/decisions and try to wait a while. Give yourself a breather and then finally, don’t look for him/her. Let it happen. Hah! arranged marriage in my case, duh!
I’ve been in a state of chagrined discomfort over the past few days and I’m not sure about what actions I’d need to take in order to achieve what I really want or reach up and grab destiny by its throat. The undying problem here is, I have so many options; most of which I cannot relate to, some that I cannot get even though I can, its too much of a pun to explain so lets not go there. A couple which seem like a plausible excuse to my ever-growing reasoning on why I should go back to Pune and then a few others which are still unclear mostly cause the tinker fairies are still working on them. I’d really want to see how things shape up for me. I wish I could time travel and explore every option. Abhi and Muiz confuse me a lot and my love for Bangalore (which I cannot explain) wants me to stick on. The concern is (like I’ve said before) I’ve landed here way too early. I am unable to cope up with a monotonous job and a friendless work life. I’ve had too little and too unreal of those vibrant friendships, romances and everything else. I’d really want to live my age. Currently, I’m like this 30 year old who lives his pointless life encumbered by a thousand woes but still not looking for an answer. All I’m looking for is a passage, an escape route. Frankly, a way back into love.
The garnishing over the afromentioned soul-less dish: I bought a 500 GB Western Digital hard drive and it helps a lot because I have around 200 GB worth movies and porn and I had no place to house them. Now since I have this magical hardware thingy, I can continue raping Airtel. Movies I’ve watched over the past few days – Kidnap, Drona and Hello (Bollywood) A walk in the clouds, Fracture, Stranger than fiction, Tinkerbell, Ghost in the shell and many many more in the angrezi* section. I’m tired now and Hemant is annoying me;/ I might as well upload pictures of my HDD and this soft ball thing which I love kicking around a lot. Maybe later. Peace out.
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*
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!
I’ve loved words from the time I learnt and understood them. I’ve always thanked Miss Rozana Rodricks (my English teacher) for enlightening me and introducing me to a language that has no boundaries. However much we Indians despise the time when we were ruled by the whites there would always come that time when we’d need to thank them for the immense amount of worldly knowledge that was shared and add to that the language itself was bestowed upon us and as we all can see, English was easily absorbed. Since eons its gone around worlds within our small world and it didn’t need to try hard to become a globally acknowledged medium of communication. Today, I’m not shocked when even the rickshaw guy understands me when I speak in English. I have somehow been under the impression that I was good if not the best when it came to notating what I thought I knew about the world I lived in. Well, this mirage was recently shattered and I’m still trying to rummage whatever is left of the then towering figure of myself.
I’m just a nincompoop! A little toad unable to squeal or croak and trying to swim in a pond thats too big for it. Smelly and newborn. Trying to swim, but drowning instead. Words are never in your control and they can choose to make you sound sloppy if you treat them with disrespect and/or be overtly confident with them. Simply put, they have a mind of their own when they flow from your head, heart and mind onto books or digital media that you’re imprinting it onto and during this transition they might end up meaning something which you probably did not intend them to mean. Writing exactly what you feel, I think is a very difficult thing to do because feelings are abstract and writing requires a lot of imagery. I’m just going to write what I feel and stop nagging people to write. Its sad that I don’t have a single friend or acquaintance who actually likes writing and or blogging. Friends who blog would have been more advantageous, I’d say. I tried to talk to a few of my friends into writing. But then, thats what they say about writing – its not everyones fantasy. Some wouldn’t even read.
All my recent revelations stemmed from two important things. One of them being my guru at the creative writing workshop throwing in some real critisism about the way I write and the content in my writing. What he said was true and I’m thankful that he provided feedback. He’s a busy man but he still managed to find time to tell us newbies about what we need to correct in our writing. After this, I began reading at random blogs and I ended up at this blog – Lakshmi. From whatever I collected off her work on the web; she’s a 17 year old and I found her writing to be extremely captivating, almost poetic the way she writes prose and the way she’d evoke imagery using words alone is simply outstanding. I read at quite a few places but this was special considering that she’s merely 17. I thought it took time for one to be profound with words. Also, it takes experience to put them together. I’d associate her superior word building skills to her affinity to books and her love for reading. Its takes a lot to develop a unique style of writing and I was totally bowled over with the way she presented her thoughts, ideas and feelings without sounding unreal. I’d like to applaud her work and I hope she continues writing. Its quite a gift she’s got up her sleves.
I spoke to Sneha sometime back and we discussed a very lethal subject thats in the pipeline for her and then me. She usually vents out when we talk. She compulsively has to tell me about how silly it is for 25 year old guys to marry (this is mostly cause the guy she had a crush on was married) She’d comment on how weird it is that her weekend falls on a “Thursday” instead of one of the days on an actual weekend! Finally, we’d trickle down to the alfa-male of topics – What kind of a guy? When? Why arranged? *sigh* Sometimes I wish she had a life. The poor thing has been owned from the time she was born and I’m sure she hasn’t had a chance yet to decide for herself. I can’t quite say that its a bad thing to have had everything you ever wanted but then the caged feeling isn’t all that good I’d assume. I’ve always been the runaway prodigal son and thus I’ve managed to outlive parental expectations. Whatever I do is good for them – Wow! you managed that is probably what they think. Sneha on the other hand is expected to live upto our parents words and decisions and she’s be wonderful with being an optimum daughterdroid. We discussed marriage in length and it felt good talking to her about things on a more serious note. Well, thats how I ended my weekend. I’m covering the nights tomorrow onwards and I’m hoping to begin my workouts again. Finally, I hate stray dogs – they can bark endlessly throughout the night and sometimes I feel like rushing out, pulling a Mt. Carbine and killing each and everyone of the 40,000 odd strays living near my appartment. What a pain. Heh, but then… another day in paradise.
Meeting strangers hasn’t ever been a big deal and I don’t think its a difficult thing to do. Infact, I’d say its easy cause the person/people you’re meeting don’t actually know you. You have it in your power to form an impression which may possibly be different from the one you’ve made up back with your friends, family and the society in general. This of course is useful only if you know yourself well. Now, I know that hiding what you actually are isn’t the correct way of living your life and it can prove costly later on. The thing here is, you don’t need to necassarily hide parts of you. In my humble opinion, choosing not to unpack information you don’t quite want to share about yourself is something you can do and that shouldn’t be classified as a lie. Its just being smart at the right time. The catch here is, don’t make yourself look worse off than what you already are. Easier then, just be yourself! I was just rambling.
So I met a stranger recently. Well, not really a stranger, but someone I did not know much about. During times like these you have to agree that changes are as welcome as air when you can’t breathe. Meeting new people is an important part of your life cause the more people you meet, the more friends you make. Every stranger you meet won’t exactly end up being your friend. Frequencies should match and then the magical magic bond called friendship should happen and in my case, this takes time. Add to this, my recent encounters with friendship and friends overall hasn’t been quite memorable and I’d like to get over that chapter of my life as soon as possible.
I wouldn’t want to describe much about the episode, but then I wanted to everyone to make note of key facts about life:
Don’t be timid and sit at home, it brings you nothing.
You can’t hide from the world, you’re a part of it.
Meeting new people is fun – go for it!
The auto-guys in Bangalore are the meanest people in the world, try walking.
Do not eat food that hasn’t been covered and has small insects hovering above them.
Green on blue might not be the best choice of colors, people might think its a uniform.
Expensive flats in posh localities make you feel good! Ohh yeah.
Uhm, meeting this new friend and talking on a variety of subjects somehow seemed to do me a world of good and I feel better by the day. She was kind enough to introduce me to a couple of her friends too and show me around her place, which I must say rocked. I guess thats the reason she wanted to show it off in the first place. I mean, I never thought about that side of town. I thought it was some sort of a post apocalyptic wasteland and there’d be no one there. So within a span of 4 hours I was in the midst of total strangers. One stranger and her friends. Now, usually, I wouldn’t tag along; but then in this case, she’s a warm person and her invite was sincere. All in all, I had a pretty good time and I’m happy I did this fun activity.
Rick Wright passed away on the 15th of September and well, I guess, slowly but steadily we’ll start getting news about these greats passing away. Rick was instrumentally involved with the music of Pink Floyd from the time of Syd Barett and its just sad that he’s no more. He was a self-taught pianist, they say and he was a very important part of the band. Its sad that he’s no more. May his soul RIP. So I’ve got class tomorrow and I think we’d be wrapping up with play writing by tomorrow. I’m tired for now, sleep time! Peace out.
I’m not quite sure on how to begin writing a letter to you. I guess its because you know almost all of what I feel and you know about everything I do. Sometimes I feel like you’re the reason for my actions. But then, I wish to write and I want to thank you for all the times you’ve been an angel and aided me through all these difficult times. You empowered me to win without struggling and you spoke to me. You smile comforted me even when I thought I was dying. Thats when you bent down to my ears and whispered, “I’ve just begun loving you! Where do you think you’re going?” You radiated affection even though you weren’t close. I could see you glow and I don’t think its a misfortune that I can never be close to you. You were like coming up for fresh air. It felt like I was drowning and you saved me. I never expected you to be around. I know you’d always be there. You’ve been my angel and I can’t love you enough.
I always fall short of words when I think of you and writing to you is an even more difficult thing to do. You already know about my affinity to words and how I love trying my hand at weaving them into something more than just words. You’ve always managed to read through my defenses. You’re one of those very few people who can read me; right off my face and exceptionally well off my words. Now that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do what I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve always wanted to tell you how thankful I am for always being there and always listening to me. I know that you’d be on my side even if its my fault.
So I’ll move over to what you mean to me and about how much I love you. Now I don’t want to sermonize you and go on writing prose on how awesome you are because I guess I’ve already told you that so many times. Instead, let me make this short, simple and neat!
You held my hands again, tighter this time;
You dived into my eyes, deeper this time;
Your words, silent and comforting.
Your love, pure and mesmerizing.
My time, good and bad; they stem from you,
Your anger gets nasty, but I love you too!
Loving kisses and careless whispers,
I miss you… can’t stop my heart murmurs.
Please don’t go away; I can’t see you leave,
I won’t ask for much of your time,
Just think of me when you can,
Cause I’d be waiting for you in unending grief.
I still see your eyes shine from this far away,
You’re like a diamond in the skies;
And rain clouds like these wont make you go away.
You’d be eternal for me even if you’d say your good-byes…
All I wanted to say is that I love you too;