I Am The Only God. I Am The Only Devil. I Am Me. Just Me.

Clarification?

2008-10-10T06:11:00.005+05:30

Ummm...it seems many people have been unable to make sense of the previous post, I guess a trainer is required...

Paragraphs 1, 3, 5 (and the last line) are conversations between the protagonist and random women.
Paragraphs 2, 4, 6 are conversations between the protagonist and the love of his life - the bride (best friend, ex girlfriend, your choice).

Hope this helps...

Incidents

2008-09-09T09:24:00.007+05:30

Conversations

"Excuse me? Yes, could I get a Corona please..."
"Aah yes I'm new in town, looking for places to hang out...by the by, you really have beautiful eyes..."
"I am but a speaker of the truth mademoiselle...so what else is there to do in this town?"
"Oh really? Well then I must check this place out on the weekend...and hopefully see you again?"
"I must confess I've never really heard anyone say 'lol' out loud before...I'm sure people must find it very endearing..."

"Hey hon...just got back from the office..."
"Of course I wish you were here...Dare I say lets elope? I know your mom already approves..."
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding..."
"I agree, we should catch up more often...maybe I'll fly down this fall..."
"Yes ma'am, I'll try not to disappear completely from now on..."

"I'm sorry, I couldnt hear you! The music seems uncomfortably loud..."
"Would I like to get you a beer? Ummm, ok..."
"Careful there, you dont want to fall..."
"Rest assured, I'm not a 'player' as you claim I might be, let me go see if some of your friends are in better shape to take care of you..."

"Hello? Hey...I'm sorry, I couldn't hear the phone ring, its obnoxiously loud inside..."
"Of course not, I always have time for you..."
"You had another fight? Babes, you're going to get married soon...yes, I'll talk to him and get back to you...dont worry, I'll take care of this..."
"Hey...yes he's calm , now please go make up...and you call me if anything!"
"Love you too...I'll always be there..."

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?"
"Oh, just old friends with the bride, nothing more..."
"You're quite right, its surprising how weddings bring out the romance in people...time is short, we should always be making the most of it..."
"Do excuse me, I think I have to be somewhere else right now..."

"As long as I've known, you've completed me...you've been the ripples in my heart, keeping me whole when I ought to have drifted away into myself, into obscurity...rain washing away my scars, breathing into me new chances and old love...you're my favorite girl, my beautiful distraction, my angel...I've never known peace till I found you, and maybe I'll never know love since, and if I could stop but a grain of time it would be enough...to show you the stars in my soul, to tell you the clichés of my love, to be together forever and a day...all I ask is that..."
"Oh hey, didnt see you there..."
"Hehe, no wasnt speaking to myself, just thinking out loud..."
"Looking for you? Aah yes, I wanted to tell you something...you look so beautiful tonight by the way, you take my breath away..."
"Just that I love you, and I'll always be there..."

"Excuse me? Yes, could I get a Corona please...by the by, you have beautiful eyes..."

Many thanks to Francis Dunnery for Good Life

Incidents

2007-12-12T08:55:00.001+05:30

The Beach

The bike whips through shadowed roads, and with each curve are those arms around him...not holding but trusting, soft as the waves that trail his left, beautiful as the spring to the right. He parks by the shore as she hops and skips her way into the water, making god's impressions in the warm sand, and he smiles to himself. Afraid as always of the fragility of emotion and the sting of circumstance, he's amazed at how the veil of happiness is always whole, perfect, unlike its counterpart that always makes space for a ray of hope...she beckons to him and he jogs in after her, putting off perspective for a lonelier day...

"This way now, and keep your eyes closed"...he guides her along the beach, letting the sleepy water make moments with their naked feet, almost there now. She's wearing a sleeveless red dress and looking like an angel's song. He cues the music and takes off her blindfold, the candles and table-for-two looking just right. She weakens a little and he scoops his darling up in his arms, carrying her to the chair and the wine as she whispers into his ear, "You remembered my dream"...

The music plays on softly as they dance in the sand, entwined in abandon and enchanted by the pure sky...a tête à tête in the midst of chaos, a stolen minute against fate, a divine moment amongst atheists. Her fingertips trace the outline of his palms and he holds her tenderly, her feet on his feet, her arms around his neck...her life with his. For tonight there is no reality, there are no others, they are under the stars and the night is beautiful...

She looks up at him now, hesitant to break back into actuality, and he knows what she wants to ask..."We don't have to go back tomorrow" he says, "we don't have to go back ever. I've booked you out of the hospital, and I've taken indefinite leave. We're going to stay here by the water and live each day, just live it, until its time...". Her eyes drop silken tears onto his shoulder as they make god's impressions in the sand, the sleepy water making moments with their naked feet. For tonight nothing matters, they are under the stars and the night is beautiful...she's wearing a red dress and looking like an angel's song...

Incidents

2007-11-11T13:18:00.001+05:30

Her

The phone jolts him out of confused slumber, and his social reluctance is apparent as he picks up the call. Planning on monosyllables, he is pleasantly astonished to hear her voice. The lilting flow brings back memories of those days, those moments, those eyes...he's jerked back to the present with her question. "Of course I'm still in New York" he answers, "how does Saturday sound? I'll show you the sights and sounds, we'll make a day of it..." He hangs up and falls back on the pillow, wondering how after ten years she can still make his heart skip a beat...

"Of all the things I knew you for, shopping is a talent I had no idea about" she says as she skips down the aisle. As he guides her through the throngs at the mall, he recalls what infatuated him all those years ago and smiles to himself. She pulls him into another store, and he helps her decide handbag colors and boot styles as they joke about personal choices of lingerie. "This is amazing!" she exclaims, "I'm having the best time ever"...

Her fingers in the wind and her hair like wine, they drive through mountain roads along the river, making their way to nowhere. The roof is down and so are his walls, a haze of euphoria and a pinch of nostalgia. She hums along with Bruce Springsteen and gazes into the horizon, and he cant take his eyes off of her. Under the autumn leaves and evening sun his heart melts once more, walking down old alleys and familiar mistakes...

He hands her the glass of champagne and sits down beside her, for a while in quiet moonlight and comfortable silences. They watch the dusty stars and make new conversation, intertwined in flitting touches and duets. They talk about college days and busy lives, cities and relationships, his lack-of-commitment and her upcoming marriage. He tucks her into bed and lays down on the couch, wide awake in disorder and heartache...

They walk towards the counter and check her luggage in, making small talk with muffins on the side. "Thank you for such an amazing time" she says, "NY wouldnt have been this much fun without you". He smiles and hands her her plane ticket, and with a quick hug he walks away, not daring to look back...his mind knotted in old memories and new ones, final goodbyes and tears, bygones and incidents...his heart broken again...

Incidents

2007-10-30T07:36:00.002+05:30

Ego

And you're telling me this today...", his anger is cold as he manipulates the Mustang around traffic lights and New York minutes. He can see she's apologetic as she begins to explain, "Honey please try and..." but he cuts her and a Volkswagen off simultaneously. "Please do not 'honey' me, its demeaning." She's a little taken aback at his response, but she knows this is all she'll get for a while. His anger is patient and volatile...and always painful. But her decision depended on his silence and his fury...his penetrating gaze and his ability to dissuade her knotted in the dance between the heart and the mind...

He makes the left turn towards JFK, mute with emotion and analysis. His walls are up and he's already questioning commitment and signs...his hope against pride, distance against month-long relationships. He pulls up in front of the terminal and drops her off, driving into the horizon pock-marked with planes, a quick and frosty goodbye...she, silhouetted against the evening tarmac glow...him, bundled up in November fog and rising temper...

Amber signals and road blocks toying with his restlessness, he gets on the highway, preoccupied with all that he should have said, and all that he didnt. 4 am conversations and romantic movies weighed against lonely comfortabilities and the ego, the battle wrapped in familiarity. His mind becomes clouded with the moments flitting by, each an impulse of his time, and the Mustang gathers speed to match thought. He wages the silent war inside, nanoseconds unto eternity, and he almost doesnt see the truck driver veer into his lane, just another nobody trying to get home amidst nachos and radio stations...

She hears the last call over the intercom and knows its time to board. She's waited three hours for the damn phone to ring, pride allowing her only the dignity of checking voice mail every ten minutes. Now as the last few minutes go by, a rushed past and a disordered present collide over and over in an attempt to make sense and reason, and she loses patience. She switches off the phone and walks away, making a silent promise not to weaken, not to make that first call...

Incidents

2007-10-24T07:55:00.001+05:30

Memories

She ambles at a deliberate pace, slowed by time and arthritis. What used to be ten minutes is now an arduous battle against nature and gravity, and these last few minutes of uphill crawl are particularly excruciating. But she takes warmth from the sunlight and patience from memories, the doors to the library almost within grasp. All around her are streaming swarms of people, seemingly moving at hyper-speed in a bid to steer around her, lost in isolated bubbles of thought and emotion. She can barely catch a glimpse before they're gone through the doors in a puff of importance and hurry.

It really is a beautiful day she thinks to herself, easing her mind away from the cramping joints. The lazy sun and cracked pavement take her back almost 50 years - to flowery dresses and red lipstick, to park benches and Oldsmobiles...to Frank. Across the candlelit table with flowers, grinning through the windshield with the kids tucked in the back, a bear hug for everytime she felt sad. He had held her hand through 40 years of bliss, right until the moment she found herself staring at his coffin and a tear in a white napkin. Frank, lugging the boxes across the hall as he reprimanded her, "A lady like you should never have to do grunt work". Frank, waiting patiently in the car while she finished gossiping after sewing class, "A lady like you should never have to walk alone". Frank, surprising her with vacations and white wine, "A lady like you should always be smiling". Frank...

Her reverie is broken as rock music brushes past her. He looks to be about 21 and in definitive haste, trying to sort out stock market rates and birthday gift ideas all in the minute to the elevator. He passes her and heads for the door, glancing back at her measured gait and wistful eyes, and he slows down. He hold the library doors open and waits patiently as she makes the last few steps past him. She turns to thank him for the moment of kindness in a sea of impatience, an act that defies human emotion and lives up to it all at once, but he hushes her with a single finger. "A lady like you should never have to open a door herself" he says as he walks away from her, and she finds herself standing there staring at him, and a tear in a white napkin...

Inspiration...

2007-10-15T09:24:00.000+05:30

Sometimes life is a complete dead end. A writer's block in a blind alley. A series of indelible circumstances that lead you to nothingness. And although we may pride ourselves on finding our way in the more adverse of situations, sometimes the urge to give up overcomes sense and gravity. An overwhelming desire for a shoulder. A desperate need for scotch. A singular attempt to bite the tears back. Its moments such as these that are defining in failure. Like an emotion stretched thin and frayed at the edges. A breath underwater stretched unto infinity.

Its times like these that we are most in need of inspiration. A ray of light, a nudge in the right direction...divine guidance. To make the impossible seem human. And its times like these that we feel most forsaken. Lost, disoriented, helpless...cursed. Our greatest strength rendered useless in a single chess move. God's sleight of hand.

Its surprising how subtle inspiration is. It reveals itself not in a flash of color and blinding light, but rather in a veil of banality, the elusive shades of gray. In the amicable preaching of parents. In the discussion of life with confidantes. In faded journals and conversations. In that photograph when you had short hair. In home-cooked chicken curry, courtesy Mom. In clichéd movies about the impossible. The last pages of a book that made no sense before. An old song rediscovered. A lover's faith. The lonely drive through familiar roads and intimate memories. An evening walk down a rainy path. A second look from a stranger. A helping hand with no name. An implicit trust.

Watch for a twinkle in the eye. A fleeting rainbow. A happy day. The smallest things.

Sweet Nothings...

2007-08-04T11:08:00.000+05:30

A lot of my posts talk about understanding the mundane. About everyday incidents and fluttering thoughts joined together at the hip. About repeatability at its best, wrapping itself around our frailties and our weekends. About the indefinite cycle of hop-scotch. Things taken for granted. The Earth's rotation and Google maps.

A book I read recently had one of the most beautiful quotes I have ever come across. It stated, "The most amazing thing that a man will ever get to see in his life is the body of a woman". Being the closet romantic that I am, it struck a chord. Not an orchestra of hope or the flashback of reminiscences, but a slight breathlessness of emotion, a skipped beat. A recognition of those faded moments when fate and feeling collide in a flash of color, when time slows down and closeness intensifies.

I have always believed that beauty is instinctive, that the awe is animalistic. That its not in the comfortability or the trust or the relationship itself, but in something much more clichéd and commonplace. Its in the flick of her wrist as she pulls at that contemplative strand of hair. Its in the place between the head and shoulder where she lies to listen to your voice. Its in the blink of her look, her want. In the smile of last night and the last hug before the rain. The hand around the waist in that timeless dance. The cheek-to-cheek. The static of first contact. In the movie scenes and the lyrics. In that final wandering thought, and the next one. Its in the faded picture thats crumpled from being in the wallet so long. Its in the jacket that smells of her. Its in those infinite little things that melt together into one breath of bliss, one gaze at eternity, one shot at love.

Life throws quite a fair share of conspicuous issues our way. And its this bag of small wonderfuls that makes it all worthwhile. The whispers and the silences, the scents and the touches, the glances and the flickers. The sweet nothings that we seldom understand.

Defining Moments...

2007-07-02T11:35:00.000+05:30

We all look for defining moments in our life. Punctuations in our otherwise continuous survival. Pinpoints. Put up on the refrigerator door to feel good about ourselves. A scrapbook neatly arranged into dates, color-coded, and cross-referenced. A neat row of milestones behind us to lull us into the security that life can be written onto a set of greeting cards. That all of it can be arranged into sections, like a shopping mall. Where you can walk into your past and know from the labels just where you need to go...to relive an old incident, to relearn an old lesson, or just to look up something you never intended on doing or being. Like a grammatically correct sentence, with the appropriate amount of commas in between, to pause for effect.

And a nice big full stop at the very end for everyone, an exclamation point for the fortunate and the prosperous. The proverbial fulfillment of everything. The answer to the question of Life. We look away at the very mention of the Big White Light being a question mark. That after all this time we still leave with questions unanswered...dreams unfulfilled...thoughts unsaid...moments left behind. That after everything we've been through, we're still lost between the sun and the moon and the almanacs. That after the countless debates, discussions, self-reflections and analysis's, the tombstone lacks the phrase it needs. A whirly mist of overlapping shapes. A shadow play of silhouettes.

And so we look for song lyrics in our existence. Turn to chocolates and shoulders. Stare into the night and think about intersections. Pick up the phone and dont dial. Help the needy and play monopoly. Take annual vacations. Cut ourselves shaving, burn ourselves cooking, wound ourselves trusting. Give names to emotions, titles to streets, and hearts to strangers. Define our lives into little moments that only we can remember. Catalog them neatly into our mind and guard them jealously, in hope that at the very end all the pieces will fit together into one giant jigsaw.

Its all just one big cotton-candy machine. Smeared eye-shadow fading into last night's bruise. A tinge of purple in gray. Broken pieces of the last glass.

25 Things I Hate...

2007-06-30T00:52:00.000+05:30

25. Small talk.

24. Giving up smoking. Giving up.

23. People who think they're smarter than me, but arent.

22. Inspirational sayings.

21. The rain.

20. Hopes and expectations.

19. People who expect the world to "work in a certain way".

18. Indian cuisine at restaurants.

17. The concept of emotion, and second chances.

16. Bad color combinations and condescending bullshitters.

15. Promises that cannot be kept.

14. Humid mornings, cloudy mornings, sunny mornings...all mornings.

13. New places that look so much like the last place I've been to.

12. Having chosen...having to have chosen.

11. Lies. Gossip.

10. Knowing so much and keeping so quiet.

09. Disorder, crowds, and optimists.

08. Being right most of the time.

07. Women who clap you on the back, or pull their own chairs.

06. Keeping in touch via biweekly offliners and "how're-you-doing"s.

05. Incorrect grammar and bad firsts.

04. Looking back. Might've-beens. Far-aways.

03. Old voices in new conversations.

02. Missing people who've gone.

01. Searching...

Life and Love

2007-03-13T10:07:00.000+05:30

Army life and young dances...bus rides and unhooked bras...riverfronts and Sidney Sheldon books...boy/girl groups and age differences...dog bites and sweet gestures...playful flirting and valentines...moonlit walks and quiet understanding...cold creams and unsaid feelings...first times and first mistakes...

Hidden crushes and first proposals...soft toys and lucky charms...lost earrings and real love...borrowed roses and chaperoned by mum...poems and kisses...sweet nothings and library corners...little notes and new wallets...skipped tuitions and slow dances...reassurances and holding on...missing pictures and growing up...distances and letting go...

Cute chinks and unrequited attraction...corridor performances and fairytale dreams...yellow kurtas and canteen dinners...confused emotions and double dates...flings and models...dedicated songs and sleepless nights...friendly advice and smoky roofs...immature crushes and misunderstood ways...

Music rooms and birthday gifts...train journeys and bad results...waist chains and cat-eyed stones...car breakdowns and phone breakups...bengali festivals and beautiful saris...missed calls and lost hopes...unsent messages and unresolved issues...efforts and questions...honest confessions and new beginnings...late-night calls and comfortabilities...

Retreated months and pleasant surprises...farewells and hellos...three-day blooms and borrowed rides...iPod dances and black dresses...halted emotions and lonely nights...movie-like love and smiley messages...A Walk to Remember and dark theaters...musical nights and dreamlike caresses...painful heartaches and "I dont want to go"s...final calls and last-second doubts...

New York and a few tears...real promises and real problems...shoulders and blogs...replacements and bystanders...stubborn independence and open arms...cyber tries and drunken admissions...time differences and messenger statuses...ISD calls and "how're you"s...long waits and last times...god-complexes and self-induced complications...heart-breaking acceptances and moving on...

Life and love...

Random Flittings of the Overcharged Mind

2007-02-25T12:46:00.000+05:30

A recent comment made me realize that it'd been a long time since I posted, and the truth is that life is preoccupying...thats the exact word for it. You get entangled in the subtle web of hope and self-satisfaction, rummaging for the future in a maze of insecurities and a barrelful of lessons. Given the lack of occasion and the unsystematic unloading of opinion, I thought I'd let myself go this one time in an attempt to trade prose for rhyme...I leave the interpretation for this one upto you...

I rest like an autumn leaf in rain,
prematurely seasoned but not washed away.
The thrushes pumping in a single vein,
I may miss that last flight, that last ray.
Its the best laid plans for the ordinary,
with just the whiff of caviar and sherry.

If you've seen a thousand birds fly by,
you'll know that insight is true.
And although most times we sigh,
sometimes life smells like a fresh brew.
Morphine after a rough night,
Or a shoulder and a bed in sight.

Things change in the singular of time,
universes multiply to chase chaos.
And just when things seem unfine,
distances numb the sense of loss.
Big words from a heart of stone,
substitute the self scrutiny of the alone.

I've seen the sunsets of heaven,
and survived some years of insane.
There's a lot of black in happiness,
and a lot of white in pain.
Its all a matter of color and intellect,
of seeing a rainbow, of living a reject.

So every time the sky changes hue,
know that the winds will blow and whine.
Its the artifacts of nature that do,
and the relics of you that shine.

How Much Can You Take...

2007-01-09T07:45:00.000+05:30

He stands in line for his visa interview. He's wearing a new Peter England shirt, a gift from his father, and he holds a small satchel with the documents that describe his life, neatly set in the order his father thought best. The wait is long and his thoughts are many, but a voice rises foremost, saying "Son, you've made me proud with each step you've taken. I want you to fly away to that land of dreams and riches, and be what I could never be, but what you have a chance at. And when you come back next, it should be with a one-way ticket for your old man and his wife. Make us proud". He knows he will not be able to fulfill all his father's dreams, but he's going to make it his life's ambition to do what he can. His father died of a heart attack two days ago.
She just sits there, a light on in the background to make sure there are no dark corners. She's been staring at the monitor for hours now, unable to sleep, to eat, to move. There is the constant tapping of her feet through the dead of the night, to keep away the sound of silence. Its what they term a "panic attack". She has lost that youthful childish laugh that made the room light up, and the twinkle from her eyes is gone, the sign of a happy life. She talks but does not think, she jokes but does not laugh, she survives but does not live. She'd come out stronger with each curve ball that life had thrown at her, but this time she's beaten and broken. She's lost more than just hope and happiness, she's lost herself. Two days ago, 20 odd men beat and raped her in a dark alley.
She was the epitome of resilience and strength for others, but not tonight, as she sat crying softly in her room. No one was allowed in, and even the tears crept carefully away from the cheek for fear of showing any signs of weakness. She held a swiss knife in her hand, but nothing there to slice except... She had been fighting with herself for some hours now, trying to push away thoughts of him while the knife edged slowly towards her. But it was not to end tonight, or any other night. A smile came back to her face for the briefest of moments as she saw him for the last time, if only in haze. Her fiance had been diagnosed with a tumor some weeks ago and the message on her screen read that he was dead, a last visit unvisited, a last kiss unkissed.
He had always been average. In school, in college, in life. He didnt have much in terms of money, or family, or love, but he had always been satisfied with what he had. It didnt take much to make him smile, maybe a peg or two and a joint to widen the smile. He had never been smart, or versatile, or suave, but he had always been happy. And now that was gone, replaced by terror at what was happening to him. This was unknown and beyond his grasp, and although his doctor told him there was help, he did not know what to believe, if the doctor was even real or another figment of his imagination. Schizophrenia was driving him wild, and he dangled at the edge of sanity, his simple mind confused in a haze of realistic memories of people he knew.
He just received the phone call five minutes ago, at a dhaba where he was enjoying his daily cup of tea and his favourite cigarette. He's sitting there numb with shock, the butt casually burning his fingers while his friends realize that he hasnt moved or breathed in over a minute and begin to swarm around him in joking concern. But his mind is not with them, it has fled to the deepest recesses of his memory to pull out an old incident. He had lost his mother some years ago, and would have lost his mind too if not for his loving father, brother and grandparents, who took over the role and made him what he was today, a balanced and able young man. The phone call had been to inform him that all of them had died last night in an accident with an oncoming vehicle.
He was sitting at the edge of the bed, his back to all his friends, who were pre-occupied with some computer game . He could not hear their hoarse shouts or their coarse language. He could not hear the people shouting outside the window in the cricket ground, or the music playing in the next room. He could not hear anything except for the ticking of his watch, and her words in his head telling him to stay away. The love of his life had left. The only happiness he had known in his life had told him that it was "over". He hadnt known what to do, and the last few hours had been a haze of emotions and feelings, but realization crept back as his friends began to crowd around him, with mugs of water and hankerchiefs, guiding him carefully to the medic to avoid the blood dripping from his wrists.

I am none of these people. Some of them are just flutters in the wind, incidents taken place far away, while others I have been very close to...watched them go through hell so to speak. I do not know how many have truly made it back from there...some of them still cower in the shadows and pray to God, others put on a brave smile while they cry inside every second of every day, cursing Him for what he has done. I cannot console them, and I cannot say I understand, because I dont. I cannot advise them or shed any drops of wisdom. I cannot help them, I cannot fix them. I can only stand by their side and hold their hand while they stare blankly into space, going through something that we're not supposed to go through, that we're not built to go through. This "is not supposed to happen to good people", it shakes the faith and eats you inside out. It crushes the soul and leaves you a hollow shell.

Do not pretend to empathize, because you cant...do not begin to comprehend, because you dont...do not dare to judge, because you have no right to. It doesnt matter, and it wont make a difference. Just realize that no matter what we do or why we do it, who we are or how we live, why we choose or what we go through...we have just this much in common...

We are all innocent. We are all bystanders. We are all fragile.
And we are all just Human.

Adult Life: Part II....

2006-12-13T12:12:00.000+05:30

I was watching an episode of Frasier the other day (sorry, I have too much time on my hands), and something about my previous post on the Adult Life came to mind while the show was on. The change from a gawky teenager to a mature adult was so unsuspecting that somewhere along the way I'd escaped from my cocoon without realizing I have wings. I mean I was happy in that quiet little corner I'd woven for myself, and who wants to leave that and venture out into the unknown, armed with a cheese sandwich and a knapsack? Its understandable for everyone at this stage to be a little apprehensive, not to mention angry at the fact that this change comes at the expense of so much lost along the way...those almost-reachable hopes, those unforgettable nights, and those lingering smiles.

So here I am adjusting to the so-called "Adult Life", missing home food and blinking back guy tears that threaten to moisten the eyes whenever there's one of those mushy movies on, or a forgotten moment reminisced, or just a call from a friend far far away. And at this point of time this woman comes on the show and begins to talk about being an adult, about having to take responsibility, about decisions to make, and paths to pave...and thats when it hit me, I hadnt missed my transition to adulthood...I was there.

Dont get me wrong, I miss the good old days as much as everyone else. I miss deadline skipping, I miss nights of lazing around, I miss being hungry all night because I forgot to eat, I miss blaming fate and luck for mistakes made, I miss crazy trips to wild places with strangers (both physically and metaphorically), I miss taking chances on the next exam or the next red light, I miss not thinking about tomorrow.

But that doesnt mean that life has gone bad...its just different, and you adjust to it, the same way you did when you were pulled out of the womb, when the woman you loved first broke your heart, when you had an accident and realized that you werent invincible. I've had my share of fun and frolic, of dances and demons, of the 70s and highs, and now its time to move on. Its always painful, but there's a realization on the other side that'll make you older, and wiser, and happier. The feeling of that first paycheck, the feeling of waking up early because you want to be on time for office, the idea of studying not cause you have to, but cause you want to, of working harder because you want to be something more than just a nameplate, of giving something your best and knowing that not even fate can waylay you, its exhilarating. I love knowing that I have only myself to answer to, it brings a whole new meaning to the word responsibility. And somehow, I want to make me proud.

And this may sound crazy, but I want to have a job I love. I want to have a car thats a pleasure to drive, and a bike for those romantic trips. I want to meet the imperfect woman and have the perfect relationship. I want to have irritating inlaws and loving children. I want to be there when my parents grow old and my brother gets married. I want to pray, love, and lose. I want to have more meaning in my life than just spontaneous plans, a deeper sense of direction than just planning tonight, a fulfillment thats more than just immediate. I want more.

I may have forsaken my cocoon, but I've realized that I have wings...and I want to fly.

Facts I've Learnt The Hard Way...

2006-11-12T15:09:00.000+05:30

[] No matter how close your friends may be, ultimately you always are, and will be, alone.

[] If you lose faith in yourself, then you're not living, you're just surviving.

[] It hurts most when you lose love not cause of anyone's mistake, but because of circumstance.

[] Only in movies will you get a second chance, in life that rarely happens.

[] Life has the capability to break you and push you to your knees, you're just lucky if you havent experienced it...yet.

[] The minute you begin to hope, you've opened a window to be disappointed and dejected too.

[] Its better to be pessimistic that optimistic, atleast that way when something bad happens, you're already crying.

[] You can fight authority, you can fight emotion, you can even fight conventionality, but you cant fight destiny.

[] If you choose to go against the flow of life...hold your breath, and be prepared to drown.

[] The only person who's gonna be by your side all your life...is you.

[] "Unrequited Love" and "Forever" are all hypothetical situtations.

[] Every selfless deed arises from a selfish need.

Sher-O-Shayari

2006-11-11T07:45:00.000+05:30

This is just a friendly verbal joust between me and a buddy of mine that I really liked...

ME: Banna tha philosopher bane chale hum engineer, pataa nahin kaise kategi zindagi jab katthe nahin yeh do year

HIM: Dil se nikala hua har shabd sher ban jata hain... "arbit" hi sahi par dil ki baat bol jata hain

ME: Dil ki baat bolne ke liye hi to sher chaahiye re...kambakht dil bhi aisa hai ki bol nahin paata usme kya chupaa hai

HIM: Ye sher-sher khelne ki tarkeeb teri...kahin orkut ke server pe pad na jaye bhari

ME: Abey sirf orkut ne hi to meraa diyaa hai saath...chahe khushi ho ya gum, din ho ya raat

HIM: Saath dene ki tu baat mat kar...gum ko mitane ke liye rum tere sath rahi hain tera saya bankar

ME: Sharaab, shabaab aur kabaab is umar mein nahin to kab karegaa...ek baari jawaani chhod gayi to tu kya jiyegaa aur kya maregaa

HIM: Jawan dil se raho, husna se nahi...yeh jawani is dil se hain sharab aur shabab se nahi

ME: Jawaani ko dil mein rakh ke tum kya paaoge...ghadi ki sooyion mein ghoomte reh jaaoge

HIM: Ghadi ki suyian kisi ke liye thamti nahi kabhi... magar yeh dil ki dhadkan kisi ki ahat ke liye zindagi bhar ke liye ruk jati hain

ME: Dhadkano ke liye hi to ji rahe hain zindagi mere yaar...yeh aahat nahin hoti to na hote tum, na hum, aur na yeh pyaar

HIM: Kehte hain saccha pyaar ek bar zindagi mein karna chahiye...marne se pehle khuda se ek bar milna chahiye

ME: Khuda na is janam mein milenge na milenge iske baad...bas rahegi unke saath kuch meethe lamhein aur bahut saare yaad

HIM: Kuch zindagian kat gaye unki intezaar main...magar woh lamhe na vapas aaye aur hum sawal banke reh gaye aapne aap main

ME: Sawaal hi to reh gaye bas, ab koi jawaab nahin...bahut husn mile humein magar hamaari mumtaaz nahin

HIM: Aye sheron ke dewane tujhya kya pata saccha pyaar kya hota hain...woh toh us shaajan ke dil se puch jo aaj bhi Taj Mahal banke dhadakta hain

ME: Chaahe imaarat ho ya jaan, baazi to lagaani padti hai pyaar mein...tabhi dil se aawaaz nikalti hai ikraar mein

HIM: Yeh mohabbat toh khuda ki pukaar hain, na samjho is ek jua...na samjho koi khel ki baazi warna zindagi ban jayegi ek jua

ME: Khuda to humein bhool chuke hain, aur hum bhool chuke zindagi ko...pyaar humein bhool chuka hai, aur hum dillagi ko

HIM: Khuda kisiko bhulta nahi, woh toh sirf use yaad karta hai jo use yaad kare...dillagi toh husna se hoti aur pyaar man se...kuch log ji lete hain husna ke sahare aur kuch tahe dil se pyaar karke....par dono cheeze kabhi bhool nahi pate bechare....

ME: Yaadein to man ke khel hain, bhoolna ek khoi hui kalaa...khush haal rehne ka raaz hai, ki apne beete hue kal ko bhulaa

HIM: Aadmi jo kehta hai, aadmi jo sunta hai zindagi bhar woh sadaye peecha karti hain.... guzra hua kal to woh lamha hai jise jitna bhulao utna yaad ata hai, use bhulane main hi usko yaad rakha jata hai

ME: Is justaju ne badla nazaara, naye manjil hue praapt...aaj ki yaad poori karein, is soch ko yahin karte hain samaapt

America...

2006-09-29T22:28:00.000+05:30

Its been a little over a month or so here...and I must say the country is really good. The facilities here are outstanding, the quiet and peace here is something to die for, and the cleanliness creates a whole new awareness. People are kind and helpful and there is a professionalism that automatically makes you work harder. Places are uncrowded, the air is fresh, and life is good. I guess I cant complain about the life I'm living, cause everything and everyone here has been good to me, I've gotten pretty much all i could ask for and more, and the prospects of a better life loom large ahead...

But thats not really what I wanted or long for. Never really been a money freak (although I appreciate it enough), and I'm not the one to complain about living standards or want better ones. No, what I really long for is the smell of the earth after the fresh rains back in India, that you can never smell here. I long to walk out in the middle of the night and hear the traffic sounds, the sound of people around you, of protection. I long for the warm mornings waking up in my own bed and the smell of fresh food prepared by Mom's lovely hands. I long to roam the streets of Delhi and Pune and every other Indian city, where I feel familiar without a map, and where everyone is a friend. I long to drive bikes and cars when you cant go over 30kmph cause of the traffic, when trips are extended and all the more fun. I long for the electricity to go out sometime, when candles are lit and real conversations happen. I long to talk over broken net connections, when you realize the value of communication. I long to see Indians on TV, where you relate to everything they say, or atleast make fun of it. I long for the familiarity of my home, where you can step into the next room and know that you are welcome. I long to send smses for the price of a Pan Pasand (its bloody expensive here). I long to eat Papdi Chat and Bhel Puri from the thele and go buy a single cigarette from the tapris. I long to wake up at the same time with the rest of India.

But most of all, I long for the feeling that whenever I'm down or just having "one of those days", I can be with family and friends anytime, and they'll understand, and that I can always be there for them.

I long for India sometimes...

When Love and Life Collide...

2006-09-29T21:06:00.000+05:30

Lately everyone I know has been going through a tough time romantically (that includes me off course). Been flung away from the life we know has been kind of rough on the relationship, and split ends and sparks are starting to erupt everywhere. Love lives are ending because of forced marriages, distances being too much, respective lives being so busy that there's no time left to work on the relationship, emotional changes occurring between people cause of the changed environment, and the list goes on.

But thats not really the worst part, we've all been through breakups before. What really is wrong is that everyone seems to have accepted this fate without question, picking up the broken pieces and moving on with their lives, no questions asked. And I'm taken back to the days in college when a relationship meant so much more than just a practical endeavor. When flirting and dating were not just an enjoyable experience, but a way of life. When crazy things were done to impress counterparts (my own including singing in public). When the guys would take trip to unknown places and not look at the sights, spending all their time instead smsing and calling their current "love interests". When every breakup meant a trip to the bar with the whole gang, and every new relationship forged meant the same thing, just that it was paid for. When nights were spent watching movies, listening to songs, and then calling the "other" hostel to tell them how movie scenes reminded them of the good times together. When the college would come alive at night with new and old couples alike, walking, chatting, making out...

I really dont know where those days have gone, or why we have chosen to be so "adult" about this. Why everyone is putting up the brave face while really being torn apart inside by the pain of the split-up. Why all the smiles are forced, when what you really want to do is call and say "I Love You". During the day why we slog to forget the past, when each night is spent tossing, turning, and crying about it. Why everyone is so quiet lately, listening to old songs, going back to the old haunts (atleast when we sleep), just thinking of the good times and wishing that time would rewind, if only for a few hours. Why everyone has accepted life for the way it is, not choosing to fight it with the zeal that we had just a few months back.

Dont grow up so much that you forget who you really are and what you really want. Dont confuse goals with dreams and practicality with love. For once in your life make the decision that you want, not the one that is required.

Dont give up so soon guys...and dont lose that one thing that matters...

Dont Cry...

2006-09-14T12:09:00.000+05:30

How many times has life been too hard on you? How many times have you sat down with your head in your hands and your burdens on your shoulders, waiting for that single tear to drop and tell you that its all become too much for you? How many times have you been lost in love, at work, in friendship, with family, on the road or while simply trying to live your life the way you want to?

Where along the way did we lose the best things that we had? Where along the way did we replace realities for memories and dreams for goals? Where along the way did we become so defensive so as to not let anyone into our lives, for fear of one bad experience? Where along the way did we leave everything behind and wake up one day, just wrapped up in a thin blanket of loneliness...

For all you people out there who feel this at one time or another, and i know that most of you do, I dont have words of comfort, or solutions to problems. I'm just a simple man trying to lead a simple life. I dont have answers to anything, not even to things I've seen. Life is still as much a blur as it was. So all I can say to you is, and I really hope this helps...

Dont Cry...

Flying Away...

2006-08-17T04:32:00.000+05:30

I'm leaving tomorrow. My bags are packed, and I've got everything of importance that I need. Atleast all that I could pack into two bags. I'm not scared, apprehensive, excited, happy, sad or pensive. Sometimes I think I'm taking this so well. Or maybe I'm taking it too well, or not at all, who knows...

The last few days I've finished with all I had to do, and I've had time on my hands to think about everything...you know the usual- past, present and the future. And I guess nothing surprises me anymore. You dont need to be 60 years old with a world of responsibility to write about the fact that life's a bitch, you realise that within the first few years. The unitiated wait till they're old to realise that life has its ups and downs and that the sooner you know it, the easier it gets for you to adjust to it. But not me. 20 years are enough to know all I need to know. For all you optimists who know that every "bad" period gives way to the "happy" life eventually, you must know that the 'vice-versa' holds true too. So dont jump around with glee the first chance you get, cause you'll just fall harder when that time ends...and it will.

Dont make me out to be the pessimist. My point is that you need to take everything with a pinch of salt. If you look for the ray of sunshine in your bad day, make sure to look for that darkness too when you have a good time. Cause everything goes away eventually- Childhood, College, Parents, Children, Work...even Life. I guess the easiest way to enjoy life (atleast for me) is to sit back and watch everything pass me by like a really long train journey...you can make a few stops for refreshments at the good stations, but the carriage will rattle too much sometimes for you to handle, and ultimately it will always be time for you to move on.

Which is why I'm not scared, apprehensive, excited, happy, sad or pensive. I'm just waiting patiently...for the next station or the next jolt, depending on my luck.

Adult Life: Part I....

2006-08-09T00:48:00.000+05:30

When I reached the maturity that a teenager reaches, I wanted only one thing...complete freedom and independence. It was all I could think about. Being a virgo I'd always been fiercely independent and longed for that to extend over all parts of my life. I prayed for it night and day, cursing the gods silently for the day to come soon. And recently I realized that I finally had it...I could smoke and drink at will, go out anywhere anyhow anytime, I had my own account and cash to spend, my own residence so to speak...what more could a guy want right? But somehow I'd missed this wonderful transition from partial to complete independence. And I was horrified to have let the single most important incident of my life go by without so much as an applause and a night out in town.

To top it all with irony, the reason for this was that I'd become too busy adjusting and trying to keep up with my new lifestyle. That of an adult. I remember some idiot once said "With every gift comes a responsibility"...well unfortunately for us adults this responsibility is so massive that we're unable to enjoy the very freedom we possess.

Sometimes I recall the days when practicality meant giving up an expensive toy for a cheaper one, or having to stay back home to study an extra hour...now practicality means giving up your love to "get ahead in life", to lose touch with your friends cause you're too busy at work, to fly away to the other side of the world to follow someone else's dream for you.

Is it really worth it? This running around, this constant tension about the work being done and the next one on its way, this weighing down of duties so much so that you want to lie down in a foetal position and weep sometimes, this constant race to keep up with life and all its fuckups.
Everytime I stop to rest after a really tiring day my mind refuses to stop working, thinking about all that is to come and preparing with zeal for the next day of tiring out.

We dont sleep like we used to anymore, a sleep that was truly refreshing cause your mind was out exploring freely without being bound to anything. We dont talk like we used to anymore, voicing our thoughts and emotions as we felt them. We dont cry and laugh like we used to anymore, openly and without shame. We dont live like we used to anymore, without deception and guilt and complexity in any facet of life. If you think about it, we arent really free are we.

Personally, I think it sucks being an adult.

Being Uprooted

2006-08-08T02:24:00.000+05:30

Just got out of college. Four years of so-called education are finally over. Am I happy? So I'm 20, and I'm invincible...dont need anyone right now, no friends, no bonding, no emotional baggage so to speak...right? Then why does it hurt to leave? Its not cause I'm weak and dependent on others, and its surely not cause I have nowhere else to be.

So what is it then? Why this sudden bond that is tying me down and wont let me leave the place? Why are there tears in my eyes all of a sudden, when I havent really cried in years? Why am I having doubts and trying to do everything I can to delay my departure? Why am I so afraid to look back as I drive out for the last time towards the airport? Why are all my goodbyes quick "Keep in touch man, see you later"s?? Too many questions that seem to have no answer, for a person never held back by something like "emotion" before.

Took me a long time to figure out the whys and the hows...mainly cause I didnt wanna think about it. Being part of the army family the only long term connection I've ever had has been to my family...not even the word "home" cause that changes every two years with the posting. So when I finally reach college as a youngster, raring for independence and freedom...I get it here. For four long years I'm able to forge lasting relationships and bonds because this place feels like home...a place I'm free to build for myself, of my own choosing. I mean lets face it, this isnt the age when your family house feels like home to you anymore. You want your own place, something that you can return to anytime without any questions asked or eyebrows raised.

But as usual the irony of life comes dancing to play its part in the game. Just as I'm all settled down and comfortable, with a group of good friends and the love I've wanted...life comes to throw cold water and wake me up. To remind me that it aint lasting forever. Its time to move on. And so thats what I do. I pack my bags, say goodbye to the life I know and head back into the unknown. Give up friends, love, security and almost everything else that been so very important to me, and move towards my new posting. Why? To tell you the truth I dont even know the reason I'm leaving college...its not to forge a better life, its not cause thats the order...its just cause life is moving on, and we're ensnared with it.

And you know whats the worst part? For those four best years of my life I have nothing to show...no mementos, no baggage, nothing...just a few pictures and memories that are quickly fading away. Which brings me back to my first point. I'm 20, I'm invincible...and life goes on.

Heaven and Hell....

2006-08-07T03:22:00.000+05:30

I know what you're thinking... The only god and the only devil?????? This guy must be absolutely conceited and a definitive narcissist. Well I'm not refuting that claim...to me it means the same this way or that. But there's a reason the title says what it says. Cause thats what we are...we're not all bad, and we surely aint all good...we're just stuck somewhere in the middle trying hard to wriggle to one side.

My point is, why fight it? Why choose fate and luck and charm and karma to decide the million minute decisions you make. Why choose at all. You are who you are, better or worse. You are your only God, you are your only Devil, you're human. Just live with it.