Shakespeare's Jeans

Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy

2011-12-24T00:47:00.000+05:30

What's the point of Fiction? Nothing that a writer ever writes is real. It's always tainted. Tainted by facts, by perspective, by logic. It's never the truth. What's the point of writing lies? Of writing stories that represent what could've happened, what should've happened, what might have happened and never what really happened.

What is Real? Is this Real? Am I dreaming now or Am I dreaming when I sleep? What state of consciousness is real? Are we crazy or are the mentally retarded crazy? Is an Alzheimer patient's perspective real or is our perspective real? Are we real?

What is Love? Is there love? What is hate? Is hate real? Are we born to hate? Or are we born to love? Are emotions justified? Till what extent? What is reason? Is the world reasonable? Is life reasonable? Is there value in reason?

What is Moral? Is it your intuition or is it God's Commandments? Is it the Law? Are some things inherently moral? Are some things more moral than others? Is morality important? Is morality relevant? Is reason morality's enemy?

I don't know. Should I know? Can I know? Will I know? Am I too early to ask? Am I too late to find out? Am I destined to find out? Is there destiny? Is there fate? What is life? What life has meaning? Is meaning important?

I don't know.

Another post is due, that has been indefinitely postponed, till I find a few answers.

To That which is Real. And to All That which is Unreal. And to everything In Between,

Song : Dance Little Liar by The Arctic Monkeys.

The Big Red Button

2011-12-01T21:01:00.000+05:30

It was right there. 5 feet away from her. The Big Crimson Button. She had finally found what mankind had been desiring for ages. More important than the Fountain of Youth, the Elixir of Life, Aladdin's Genie, Cibola and Alice's Wonderland. All her problems would be resolved, all she had to do was to press it. Millions of thoughts went through her head, her journey till now, why she had started off on this journey and how she had easily found it, while the others were still looking.

She thought of her life till now. About her lousy husband, her perpetually annoying children, her few friends, her lack of modernity, her old jewellery, her ugly lawn, her dented nose and so on. All of this would now change. She could have a better life. A new life.

Did she really want this, she thought. "But, even if it is worse, it can't be worse than this!" she heard her inner self say.

She pressed the Reboot Button.

And it started all over again. From the beginning.

A few years later :

It was right there. Some feet away from her. The Big Red Button. She had finally found what humans had been hunting for a few decades. More important than the Holy Grail, Treasure Island, Amber Room, Tutankhamen's Secret and The Gold Bug. All the problems she faced could now be solved, all she had to do was to press it. Lots of thoughts went through her head, her journey till now, why she had started off on this journey and how she had found it, while the others were still looking.

She thought of her life till now. About her lousy boyfriend, her perpetually antagonistic parents, her many friends, her choice of career, her car, her pet, her small breasts and so on. All of this would now change. She could have a better life. A new life.

Did she really want this, she thought. "But, even if it is worse, it can't be worse than this!" she heard her inner self say.

She pressed the Reboot Button.

And it started all over again. From the beginning.

A few years later :

It was right there. A little distance away, one she couldn't measure. The Big Button of some colour. She had finally found what people had been searching for a while. More important than the Elder Wand, Unicorns, Osama Bin Laden, Aliens and Kolaveri Di. All the problems others had created in her life could now be solved, all she had to do was to press it. A few thoughts went through her head, her journey till now, why she had started off on this journey and how she had finally found it, while the others were still lost, waiting for her guidance.

She thought of her life till now. About her lousy girlfriend, her dead parents, her frienemies, her job, her mobile phone, her nails, the excess baggage she carried with a life too meaningful and so on. All of this would now change. She could have a better life. A new life.

Did she really want this, she thought. "But, even if it is worse, it can't be worse than this!" she heard her inner self say.

She pressed the Reboot Button*

And it started all over again. From the beginning.

*Conditions Apply. You will have no memory of your past life, you will have no experiences to make your new life better than this one. And you might come here again. It's a risky job. We recommend you live this one through. That inner self you keep hearing, is the old wicked man in the background. He likes to fuck around with people's lives. No inner self talks like that. Most inner selves talk like this. direct and upfront. Can't help if you're too blind to see. I gave you eyes.

-Love God.

Watch out for the Reboot Button. You don't know if you'll lead it any differently.

To Sleep. The One and Only Refuge from the Perceived Reality.

Song : I'm Looking Through You -- The Wallflowers

2011-10-23T18:51:00.000+05:30

To Animals. They have some rights.

Song : Phir Se Ud Chala -- Rockstar

"Have it with salt Nani, you'll like it," he said.

"Salt, where is it? I don't see it. It's not here," she said while moving her hand across the white plate to feel any granular substance.

"It's here Grandma," he said pointing at the spot where the salt was.

She bent forward and looked carefully. She then touched the spot and was convinced that it was indeed salt. She took some of it and applied it on the covering of the orange fruit segments that she had just peeled. She then popped one into her mouth.

"Have it. Come on quick," she said to her grandson, almost hitting the plate to his chest. There was a sense of a hurry in her tone, even though in reality there was no hurry at all.

"I have had three of these," he said, adjusting himself such that the sunlight wouldn't hit his eyes directly.

Just then two cats meowed. They were right in front of them. While the humans relaxed in the veranda, the cats splurged themselves on the smooth grass in the mild winter heat. The younger of the cats, moved behind the elder one, slowly and carefully; perhaps scared of the other animals.

"Look at them, sitting over there," Nani pointed out.

He looked carefully at the beautiful creatures. They weren't the best of cats, he thought. They were wild, dirty and dull, not even comparable to magnificent Golden Cats of Egypt or the white snowballs of the movies. But something about them was fascinating. He admired their movement, their style, their presence and most importantly the fact that they had a life, that they were real and living, in a world of their own.

He had always wanted to pet a Cat, but was never able to. They were supposed to be unfaithful, unlucky and unworthy of petting. He remembered the many stories his mother had told him, when she had pet a wild cat. How she would steal milk and feed it to the cat. How the cat would come everyday at the same time. How she gave birth to babies. How she would come under the blanket during the winter and eventually tear the blanket. And of course like all cat stories, how she drank the milk from the kitchen, without asking. He thought that this disobedience and desirous attitude, is probably why he was never allowed to pet a cat.

He now recalled the most favourite part of the story. It was the story after the betrayal. Most Cats are banished after they commit the sin. They are denied food and are scared away. The arrogant animals that they are, they go away and look for some other human to fool. But this one cat, after months of exile returned. His mother would tell him, that when the Cat returned she was ill and thin and uglier than ever. And the mother filled with compassion, gave her lots and lots of milk. He couldn't remember what happened after this. Perhaps, his mother grew up.

Suddenly the Gradmother got up and started collecting the orange peels. And immediately then the cat jumped and crossed the wall. In a flash of second, the elder cat was gone. The younger one hid behind one of the garden pots, unable to jump that high.

"Look how she jumps. Ram ki Leela ko dekh," the grandmother said with a huge smile.

He looked and smiled.

His phone started ringing loudly, disturbing the peace of the moment.

"Where is this sound coming from?" his grandmother asked.

He looked at the phone and sighed. It read :

"Mock CAT 2:30pm"

Cat. Billi.

CAT. Common Aptitude Test.

Wish me luck?

Step-ember.

2011-10-05T00:22:00.004+05:30

September is the only month in the whole year in which I don't blog. Even in 2009, the post was actually written in October. I have no reason or explanation for this. I think its the mid-year crisis (even though its the end of the third quarter). This coupled with my mid-blogger life crisis, explains the fewer and fewer words I use in my posts (Have a close look at the previous posts, they all have pictures and they all have lines written by someone else). Vasudha must be having a terrible time, because she reads these posts in her mail and no pictures are displayed out there. Sorry!

So coming back to September. A careful study of the last two years (which only I can do), shows that it has always been a crazy month. In 2009, I got intoxicated for the first time. In 2010, I attended a couple of parties (one of which I absolutely regret). In 2011, I had no alcohol (which is a good thing), and people stopped inviting me to their parties or after work chilling sessions or once a week lunch. I guess I had more to do with this, than them. So this year has been crazy too, just in a very very different way.

Another very interesting thing about September is that it has my birthday. When I was young, my birthday used to mean a lot to me and I would be thoroughly disappointed because no one else I knew was born during this time. Now, thanks to Facebook I know too many. So my young kid side of the brain, no longer feels special. Another reason to dislike this month, it failed my unreasonable paradoxical (Because I wanted other people to be born during this month and when too many were born I felt bad) expectation.

Yet another terrible thing is the weather. Its starts to change. And Homo Sapiens are inadequate to deal with this change. We have to rely on things like clothes. Had we not invented clothes, we would have developed a fur and then women won't have to get themselves waxed (in some cases, men too).

September is also the ninth month of the year. Thats 3*3. I hate 3. Therefore, it's a numerological defect.

Since you've read so much, I will now write something of real meaning.

"Living is easy with eyes closed.." (Strawberry Fields Forever, The Beatles)

I am unsure if ignorance is bliss. To have not known something, would it have made us happier? Lets say Idea X gave me some amount of happiness and Idea Y gave me some more amount of happiness. Without the knowledge of Y, I was happy; but now that I know Y, I have to struggle to achieve it. And is that unhappiness worth the additional happiness? The most beautiful thing about whatever I have said till now is that there is no Math in the whole wide world, that can help solve it. So you'll have to think of your own everyday examples.

There are two very important things that come out of the above. One is that I assumed that everyone is happy (with Idea X), the larger question being how do we decide if we are happy? And the second being what made people think Y would give more happiness? I don't think people generally have answers to either. I don't think its possible to weigh how much effort will yield how much happiness and how much happiness is worth with respect to effort invested. If I don't know which one will make me better off, why should I take the risk? The fact that Y will give you more happiness, will always be an experience of the other.

Samajh nahi aaya na?

I was using a shit phone till Class 12. I never knew the joy of texting because it was really annoying to type on that phone. Yet, I had no desire to text or to get a better phone. Then I scored a 100 in Math and there had to be a gift. So I bought a Smartphone (Not knowing anything about its smart features). Now, when I have to buy another phone, it has to be smart. I cannot go back to where I was. The fact that a better phone would make me happy was not mine, for I never had a better phone. The fact that Democracy is awesome, can only be said by a democratic state. But will you eventually be happy? Maybe not. Because that idea will change who you are and not the other way around.

You would now say, that this is normal progress. One goes from the inferior to the superior. From worse to better. But what was worse about early man? And what is superior? An LV Bag? Or Food to those who are dying? Look at our lives right now and compare it to what it was when were naked hunters. I think our level of happiness is still the same. But our level of stress has increased. Change from one set of ideas to another set of ideas, can only be justified if it leads to an increase in happiness. And if there has been no increase in happiness since naked early man time, then we are fucked up.

I have just one last thing to say.

Would it have been better had I not told you this? Had you not known this?

To September. Always a few days too less.

Song : Lag Jaa Gale --- Lata Mangeshkar

The Best Day of My Life.

2011-08-22T00:00:00.002+05:30

Janamasthmi is the best day of the year.

I love it. I like it more than any birthday. Even my own. In fact its the only birthday I celebrate!

I don't do anything special today. But I just feel special. Like you feel love.

And not just that, but feel powerful too. Mentally. Like a stronger person.

It just makes me happy. Very Happy.

Nothing makes me this expressively happy.

Happy Birthday! :D

This is dedicated to Paarthsaarthi.

Song : Ud Jayega -- Kumar Gandharva.

And then at midnight, when the dark is at its peak,
He was born, to guide us into dawn.
Like the virtues will one day overcome the vices,
And the good will transcend into the new world,
But only to end again and start again,
And yet He will always be there.
Immortal and Invincible.
Like the energy in us, in you and in me.
A reflection of Himself and Everyone Else.

Hare Krishna.

Lost and Found.

2011-08-07T23:59:00.000+05:30

I found this passage in my CAT Handout. Must share :

"No matter what people may profess to - ethics, values, beliefs, integrity - money is the life, and idealism is but a glorified euphemism for the helplessness and inability of a man to get rich."

And here is what I have to say :

It was a drab morning. There was nothing new and nothing special. It was like any ordinary morning. Rahul was walking towards the backside of the building. With each step, new thoughts entered his head. He wasn't sure if this was right or wrong, the best thing or the worst thing, but he had to do it. Because no one else would.

Manoj was waiting. He gave a slight nod when Rahul came. With a cigarette in one hand a glass of cold drink in another, Manoj said, "What's up?" He didn't mean it, but there had to be someway of starting the conversation.

"I'm good. All set?"said Rahul.
"Yup, You set? Are you sure?" asked Manoj
"Yes"
"A 100%?"
"Yes"
"Let's go then?" said Manoj.

And they walked towards the main corridor where all the classrooms were. A weird sense of doubt and uneasiness engulfed both of them. Even though Rahul was ready for it, he felt a little iffy. He couldn't understand if there was a better way for it. Or if we could do something about it. Manoj's fate was in Rahul's hands, so he was even more worried.

They entered the biggest classroom on the ground floor. There were about 40 people in that room, all awaiting the same end as the two of them. Everyone was eager not for what was going to happen, but for it to just happen and be over with. They all took their places and the most senior of them said,

"I welcome you all to the Annual General Elections of the Committee. We've discussed and made everyone aware of the rules of the election in the previous meeting, if however, anyone has any question, please ask right now."

No one rose their hands. Everyone was fully prepared for this. They had left no stone unturned or unclarified. No one wanted to run the risk of losing.

"In that case, I now call upon nominations for the post of President," she said.

The first person to raise his hand for Naresh, "I'd like to nominate Sanjay."

Rahul shut his eyes and put his palms on his hands. If Naresh is going to vote for Sanjay, then all of H Block people are going to vote for him, he thought. All who were contesting had done the calculations, and on everyone's analysis, Sanjay was going to win. A spineless and impotent imbecile was going to win. And nothing could stop him.

"I'd like to nominate Manoj," said Madame President herself.

Rahul took a deep breath. He wondered how this election could be fair anymore. If the outgoing post holders would make their choice obvious, how is merit going to be the only criteria to judge? Is merit the only criteria to judge? This perplexing and paradoxical situation, made him question himself.

"I'd like to nominate Rahul," said Aakriti.

That was the final nail in the coffin. Rahul knew that Sanjay would get more than one third the votes. He knew that his votes would be lesser than Sanjay's. He also knew that his votes would be more than Manoj's. Everyone knew this.

"Are there any more nominations? Last call for nominations!"

"I'd like to withdraw my nomination," said Rahul.

He did it. He let it all go away. It wasn't worth it, he thought. Rekha looked at him and even though she understood why and what he had done, she did not like it. She couldn't believe this. It was wrong. It was incorrect. But something kept coming back to her. Something she kept denying. That in fact it was the right thing to do.

Rahul somehow got up and left the room along with the others. The room was to be now used for the ballot casting process. Outside his friends looked at him disappointingly. They were shocked and amazed at what he had done. They all knew that it was in the best interest of the committee, but could not understand why he had to do it. Why couldn't Manoj step down? Why should the best candidate step down so that the worst does not get control? Why did he have to sacrifice?

Rahul had a half smile on his face. He did not regret his decision. But he felt a strange looseness in him. A sense of numbness in his body. He couldn't believe this was real and happening. For the first time in his life, he felt sacrifice. He felt what giving up. He felt he had lost the world. But he stood there.

Elections ended peacefully. Manoj became President by beating Sanjay 24-16. By God's Grace, the lesser of the two evils prevailed. But good was still a long way to go.

Even years later, Rahul could never get over this memory. He always wondered if he could have managed a tie with Sanjay, had he stood in the elections. He wondered about all the lies he was told in order to step down. He just could not get over that. He didn't regret it. But he just wondered. Like we do. The answer we could have written. the one mark that we could have got. The one page that we could have read. The one form we could have filled. And the one life we could have led if we had done all that.

To Friendship. I hope there is something like that. Happy Friendship Day.

Song : The Only Moment We Were Alone by Explosions in The Sky.

Fools and Kings.

2011-07-30T00:37:00.001+05:30

Joker.
Debater.
Good For Nothing.
Mentally Sick.
Singer.
Storyteller.
Cartoon.

I will miss you, Sir. Each time we receive knowledge, we incur a debt. And the only way to pay back this debt is to spread the knowledge. I hope I am able to spread the lessons you taught me. Not Just of Economics. I will miss you.

Song : 500 Miles--Peter, Paul and Mary.

Every end has a beginning. Meet Jibber Jabber. (Click to See!) This one is to all my teachers.

Eulogy.

2011-07-09T00:32:00.000+05:30

To Moto Q9h. I knew your time was coming. But I didn't think you'd leave me like that. But I guess that which goes, goes. There is no how did it happen? It just happens. To the Good Times, coz that's all that matters and it is all that's left.

Read at your own risk.

Mensch was watching her carefully. Her hair, her face and her style mesmerized him. He was spellbound. He could feel the tension between them. He just could not wait any longer. But Klimmer would always stop him. He'd never personally tell Mensch to stay away from her, but Klimmer's own love for Gabriel and her reciprocity, was enough to keep him at bay.

Mensch walked up to Klimmer and :

M : I love her more than you ever will.
K : So, what do I do? You should tell her that.
M : And what if she leaves you after that?
K : Then she leaves me and you can have her.
M : You will do nothing to make her stay?
K : You fall in love and you fall out of love. And neither is in your control. So if she falls out of love, she falls out love. What can I do about that? Maybe I'll fall in love with someone else.
M : What if she cheats on you?
K : Then I'll forgive her.
M : You wouldn't be jealous if you saw me with her?
K : What is gone is gone.

And then there was a gunshot.

Ending 1 :

M : You're a fearless man. And your time had come.

Ending 2 :

M : You are a fear...less man.

K : And that's why she's with me. Not with a mass of flesh on the ground.

Ending 3 :

M : You are a fearless man. And I love you.

Her white dress was now stained with blood.

K : Well, what is gone is gone. Your place or mine?

I'll miss you Moto. We had some really good times. And as much as it hurts that it was an economic loss, what has happened has happened. Sunk Cost. Abh bas aage soch sakte hain.

Song : Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by Cab Calloway.

Scope of Public-Private Partnership in Education

2011-06-05T00:30:00.002+05:30

Vasudha once asked me to write on a Current Issue. I don't know if this counts as one, but I have read it and think its worth more than an Archive file at CCS Applicant Essays. To the Future CCS Applicant, I hope they're not as uptight and stuck up as they were this time. I can be vindictive.

Introduction

Once upon a time in a land not far away, the government was facing lots of problems, one of them being Education. The government created lots of schools and universities to help deal with the problem. However, they were so overworked that they were unable to provide quality education. They then resolved to encourage other people to set up institutes, by the way of tax subsidies, free land etc. This led to a huge spurt in the education sector. Despite this growth and the government’s affirmative action for the underprivileged, quality education for everyone is still a problem in India.

Issue

There are four primary factor inputs in education--management, teachers, curriculum and infrastructure. These factors have longed favoured the private sector. Teachers in India are mostly middle-class and they prefer a higher salary. Those who don’t, choose their employer based on reputation, which under status quo, government schools lack. The management (i.e. Principal, Managers, and Directors) in Government aided institutions take their position like an ordinary job. They are often transferred from one school to another, as if the operations of both are synonymous. The problem with infrastructure is directly linked with funding. India has never explicitly received any loan/aid from international sources for the purpose of building educational infrastructure. Finally, curriculum is the same in both areas but what differs is its implementation, a by-product of the above three factors.

Possible Solutions

Privatisation is not just big companies with lots of capital. The first step should be a change in the management of educational institutes. The management of private schools are mostly composed of individuals who were related to the founding of the school. More simply put, if I purchased a franchise of the Delhi Public School, then by the virtue of my investment, I would be a part of that franchise’s management body. Similarly, the public school management must now have a stake in the school. This private partnership can be from a company, individual, partnership etc. Again, whoever makes this investment, by the virtue of the return will be involved in the activities of the school. Based on the profit and performance, give a return on investment/interest on capital to the investor.

The next step should be upgradation of infrastructure-technology, furniture, walls etc. If there is a shortage of funds, then one can invite funds from the public via infrastructure bonds, just like we have bonds in the name of farmers, bridges and dams. How will we redeem them? An educated workforce in the long run leads to inflow of income, by the virtue of their employment and intellect. Think of the reduced corruption and the increased tax assesses. Lets have a voluntary disclosure of income, the last one got is 7800 Crores. Let a tender be published for a mass infrastructure improvement in all schools, invite private companies and then offer it to the lowest bidder. And Kalmadi will not handle this.

Teacher training and curriculum are fundamental aspects of education and allowing the private sector to handle them should be avoided. Privatising infrastructure and management alone will improve the quality of education manifold.

Analysis

The potency of the government functioning is the biggest challenge in the implementation. Moreover, a person who has a direct stake in the school functioning might go out of the way to show good results, sometimes fudging records. The same however cannot be eliminated in status quo. Further, a public school still faces competition from its private counterparts. Seeing the above two plans implemented, their response will be of bettering their services (and consequently increasing their fees); making them an elitist group for the rich, much like in the USA. This sort of division is not to be encouraged in the field of education.

Privatisation should be an upward process. The first beneficiaries of the moves must be the youngest children. Just like how schools are formed, one class at a time, similarly, this move must be in phases, from bottom to top. This way when they enter a new class, they’re equipped with skills to deal with good infrastructure. However this means that under status quo, we consider the elder students as a sunk cost.

Conclusion

Is there an alternative? There could be many. Perhaps privatising the whole unit could do more good. Is the investment worth it, in terms of a return? In monetary terms, one can never assess the true benefits of education. Can you measure the life skills one learns? That you no longer have to ask someone else to fill your bank slip? Education is the escape route to a better standard of living. But is that the government’s burden? Should the private players agree to not make profits? One can only wonder. Until then, there is a long way for our happily ever after.

There are some spelling/grammar errors. I didn't bother to check again. Sorry. They are minute.

Song : Every Teardrop is a Waterfall by Coldplay It's their NEW SONG. I don't like it a smuch, got a Techno feel to it. But EEEE! It's a New Song! :D :D

I hope you like it. The Song :P

Introspection - 1.

2011-05-31T17:21:00.008+05:30

'Coz Some Jeans are Very Loose. Yeah.

Oh. You might NOT want to Zoom.

To All The Thin Tall People. I know exactly how you feel.

Song : Let's Pretend We Don't Exist.

Moment.

2011-05-27T20:58:00.007+05:30

Time has passed, and I have loved many women.
And as they've held me close...
And asked if I will remember them I've said, "Yes, I will remember you. "
But the one I've not forgotten is the one who did not ask-- Malena.

We’re always thinking that someday we’ll be happy; when we get that car or that job or that person in our lives that’ll fix everything. But happiness is a mood and it’s a condition, not a destination. It’s like being tired or hungry; it’s not permanent. It comes and goes but that’s okay. And I feel like if people thought of it that way, they’d find happiness a lot more often.

So you think it’s okay to be a little miserable every now and then? Even when you have great things in your life?

Is it okay to be a little hungry now and then?

The man who said "I'd rather be lucky than good" saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It's scary to think so much is out of one's control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net, and for a split second, it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck, it goes forward, and you win. Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose.

Oh my God, I'm getting pulled over. Everyone, just... pretend to be normal.

Song : Dhoop ke Makaan (Acoustic)

All you need is Love, Love is all you need.

2011-05-26T13:46:00.000+05:30

To The CAT Word List of the Day. This is all because of you.

In her covert style, she removed each of her habiliments. The soft satin slowly flowed against her willowy body. Despite the enchanting beauty of her skin, his eyes were fixed on her face; as if nothing had changed. They knew the effect that they had on each other. His sedate expression would leave her confused and wanting to do more. Her carefully carried out moves would challenge all the patience and passion in him. It was like a game they played with the other's mind.

The ramshackle condition of the place was all that was left. The scent of sweat, the rococo of the arrangement and the love of the act had all diffused. It reacquired its original form, and waited to be alive again.

Song : The Gypsy -- Ink Spots

The Way Young Lovers Do.

2011-05-26T01:14:00.001+05:30

I hope you like the New Theme.

Nothing beats a Blog Post after a Really Bad Exam. Not even Free Beer.

Lots of things have gone and lots of things might come. I hope to write more, but I say that every year.

Song : Robert Plant & Alison Krauss- Gone Gone Gone (Done Moved On)

Thanks for sticking around. Means a lot.

ChotaShakespeare.

Decay.

2011-05-13T23:42:00.005+05:30

I had my CCS Internship Interview today. I realized something while I was at it.

Have you ever been to a dentist? Most dental clinics have a step by step diagram of how cavities happen. Usually when we have too much sweet and don't brush, we start developing germs in our teeth. One of the signs of a cavity is when food starts sticking in our teeth. Most people just ignore this and find a way around it; sticking our finger inside or using a toothpick. Soon the cavity grows deeper and at some point it starts hurting us. But the pain is erratic and then we tell ourselves, no it must be the sinus infection or the wisdom teeth are coming or maybe it was just hurting that day or we just sleep it off. We still don't go to the doctor. Eventually, our teeth become sensitive and they hurt whenever we have anything cold or hot. Now is when we go to the market and purchase a different toothpaste. But that also fails to relieve us. We bear the pain for a few more weeks because we don't have time. And then we finally go to the doctor.

The doctor examines the infected tooth. He nods disapprovingly. He tells us what a Root Canal Treatment is and how horrible, lengthy and expensive a procedure that is. He asks us why we didn't come earlier and why we didn't try to fix the pain. We just look around because we don't have an answer. We then get the root canal done, but that too in installments, still threatening that poor tooth. The doctor informs us that we have other cavities as well, but well we respond to them at our own convenience.

After the damn thing is over, we get back home. We take a sigh of relief and promise to ourselves that we will take care of our teeth. But of course who has the time to brush at night. So at some point in time, this tooth or one of the other has to be extracted. We get rid off the bloody thing. And the killer is-->We still wonder if it was really our fault.

This is a story based on true events and bitter experiences.

Now, thats how we treat our own tooth. Imagine, how we would treat society's problems. We just don't give a fuck. It doesn't matter to us who is hungry or dying or being cheated. It doesn't matter to us. If we don't have time and effort for our own tooth, do you think we have time and effort for anyone else? We don't even have a spare thought for them. And that is precisely why we are in a mess. We've stopped getting Mad. We've stopped caring. We've stopped feeling. We've become immune to the pain. But never to the decay. We're becoming less human with each passing second. And one day, not far, like we extracted that tooth, we're going to extract all human-ness out of us. And then we'd die.

This is Why India is Poor.

Song Dedication--> Abh Khud Kuch Karna Padega -- Strings and Atif Aslam.

To The Interviewer.

Frankly Speaking?

2011-04-22T01:54:00.009+05:30

This could be my last post until exams end, which is 17th June, but I hope to write in between. Even so, I decided to just write, more like speak, before I run to my books.

So what's been up? I have restarted my reading of The Fountainhead. It isn't that bad a book and small font is bearable. I think that if books came into your life at specific moments you are more likely to finish them vis-a-vis, if they came ordinarily. Post a huge influx of political dirt and ego games in my college life, the book just feels so real. So I'm hooked to it.

I hate mosquitoes now more than ever. I'm extremely grateful to the Chinese for inventing that electrical racquet that electrocutes these little buggers. But they breed faster than the Chinese, so yeh too many to deal with. I wonder if they have a one child policy for animals in China?

I have no career plans. I don't intend to have any. I'll earn. I'll add advertisements to the blog, worst case.

I have no marriage plans. I don't intend to have any. I'll date. I'll hire an escort, worst case.

I have no children plans. I don't intend to have any. I will NOT adopt. I will have a pet, worst case.

Are we living a lie? I think this is what happens, when people get too smart. They start doubting themselves and then they start doubting the world. This whole business about God is the first of the lot. Never found something so controversial yet stereotypical. Now of course the trend is "I am an Atheist". Throw them down a fleet of stairs and they'll be yelling -"GOD Save Me!". The next is, the world map. I don't know, I have a feeling its not like how they show it. It could be a lie for all you know. Have you seen it? We are Sheep. Blind Sheep. Just following. Democracy of course is a farce. It can legitimize a bad thing. Very Risky.

I hate misery. All sorts. And if you start living and breathing and being your misery, you've had it from me. I cannot deal with that and don't understand how people can. Can you? Give Me Sympathy, I can't do anything. Give Me Attention, I am a loser. Sound similar? Its the worst sort of Limbo to be in also. So if you are sad and have been sad for a long time, get up.

I have downloaded lots of Music. And lots of movies also. You should too. Lots of movies have good music. Lots of music has good meaning. Lots of meaning-->Boring.

Do you know it's been three years since I've been blogging? Happy Birthday Blog! I am some 3 months late. But I have no reputation of being a good wisher. Ask Vasudha. I wished her on my birthday. Be grateful that didn't happen. Wise Thought : Admitting your faults doesn't make them go away, doesn't make them lesser and certainly doesn't make the fault a good thing. Neither does making a joke of it.

I am not going to thank anyone in this post. So if you're looking for your name, you can try the other gay posts. You can also take a print out of the same. Ctrl + P.

I have been trying to fit this somewhere in this post. Its fits here. "You can roll that gay nonsense and then shove it up your ass. Pun Intended" See. It Fits!

Is there anything else? There is lots. There is always lots. My phone has magically repaired. Wo-ho! Nazar mat lagana. My knee muscle cramped or something. Basically I couldn't move and it hurt a lot. I am fine now, but it still hurts. Must have been the irregular...Yeah. My Calculator broke the other day. It looked dreadful from inside. Ganesh is not returning my pen drive. I don't know what he's doing with it. I think he's lost it, the pen drive.

I think this enough for now. Maybe I'll stop by later, for a drink or something. You''ll know. I've been tracking you. The Big Brother Is Watching You. Ooooooooooooooo!

You know, this is like, one of those moments when to just to irritate everyone, I wouldn't get off the car and just stay there and crack jokes. You know the weird feeling of not going and annoying the other one. Yeah. I see you're not liking it. Must run away.

Bye! Thanks for listening.

Song : Bholi Surat Dil Ke Khote from the movie Albela.(1951)

P.S. : I hope you're good too.

Blindfolded.

2011-04-01T00:12:00.001+05:30

To The Capitalists, Socialists, Anarchists, Dictators and other members of the Illuminati.

Song : Dustbowl Dance by Mumford and Sons.

People are dying.
I have a World Cup Match to watch.
People are homeless.
Gurgaon or Noida or Gk-II, for my Part 2?
People are hungry.
Chinese or Italian or Thai?
People are illiterate.
I have to finish a Blog Post.

People are voting.
People are losing.
People are blind.
Hail Democracy.
May We Rest in Peace.

Money, Money, Money.
Money is all we got.
Money is all we want.
Fuck you.
Money, Money, Money.

2012, I hope we die.
I don't help you, you don't help me.
Life is shit--No Love or Care.
Auf Weidersehn, is all I have left to say.

No Utopia, No Earth-2.
No Technology, No Intelligence.
No Change, Just Limbo.
Blame You or Me?
Or His Will?
Or Perhaps Your Own.

Not a Funny April Fools Joke, eh?

His Cursed Blessing.

2011-03-19T20:17:00.003+05:30

I wrote this when I was in Class 11. Africa Week in School. Our House was assgined Madagascar as country. Here Goes :

Born in a family of six illiterates,
I am Radama the youngest.
They say this is Eden in disguise,
But the youth seems to argue.

It's due to your fancy, My Lord,
For what Madagascar is today-
Poor, Miserable, Underdeveloped and
Lost somewhere in the quest for modernization.

What Flora is this Lord,
Has to be slashed & burnt for food?
What fauna is this I ask You,
Has to be sold for mere pennies.

I don't want snow-peaked mountains,
But sky-hugging structures.
I don't want birds from paradise,
But wish to fly with the iron vulture.

This is not my voice, My Lord,
It's the solidarity of Our Youth.
We don't crave for a green environment,
But for the greatest development.

I am not ashamed to say this,
But if I were to be born again,
It's my plea to you Lord,
Let it not be this Hellish Paradise.

Who Stole The Ink?

2011-02-13T22:55:00.000+05:30

"Through my Lens."

"Here is the best portrait that, later, I was able to make of him."

"Eleven Rotten Eggs."

"A constant unfolding of the Self."

Song : 5 Years Time--Noah and The Whale.

To Gary. Coz I too suck at saying Thank You.

Untitled

2010-12-31T02:31:00.010+05:30

You know what I wanna do for New Years Eve?

Sit on a Park Bench, Drink Beer and Talk. And just let my heart out. I just want a close friend to sit next to me, and just talk. Talk about how the year was, how I have changed, how they've changed. The mistakes we made, the things we did right. Just talk. Talk about the dead ends we always reach. About how somethings are never settled. About world politics and global warming. Of the fireworks that will follow. Just speak without hesitation.

I wanna dress up like a cartoon. And then stand on the bench with the bottle and announce to the world, the arrival of some great thing that I will come up in that drunken stupor. I wanna then dance a bit to some random cheap number. Just with that companion, in the loneliness of the park.

I wanna then lie down on the bench. Admire the vastness and beauty of the night sky. Probably listen to "The Escapist" or one of those really soft songs. And just gaze. The joy of nothingness, as is said in Italy. And then the music should end. And there should be perfect silence. And at some point, I'll look at my companion and say nothing. Just try and fake smile at them, and hope that somewhere between these emotions, they guess the numbness and sadness of the past and the empty promise of the future. Allow them to see the chasm of my heart. And in that flick, I will get up. And stop the vulnerability.

And then the fog will be a bitch. And it'll be cold. And it would make sense to go home. So on the support of my friend, I will tread home, which will be close by. I will mumble things I wouldn't want to remember. A bunch of I love yous and Thank yous and Sorrys. To all the people I know. Before all this, I'll make sure my phone is switched off, I don't want to be disturbed!

And then I wanna lie in bed. Under the warmth of a heavy blanket. And then I'd think of love. Of perfect companionship. Of someone I'd like to see by my side when my dreams will come true, as they say in soaps. Of true love. And I'll close my eyes and start imagining the perfect kiss. But I'll stop. Because that would end or seal the magic. And I don't want that.

I wanna sleep with a huge hanger in my face. Smiling ear to ear. With no remorse, no regret, no memory, no burden, no joy, no happiness, no unhappiness. Just a smile of contentment. That for the first time it was enough. And that the world didn't want more. And that I didn't want more.

And I'd want my friend to look down at my smiling face and smile. Trying to figure out what I was thinking. Feeling happy that I was happy. And then they can go sleep wherever they want. Next to me, on a different bed. Thats not in the plan.

And I don't wanna wake up.

And if I do, I hope I have the passion to study. Coz truth be told, I would have exams in 3 days.

It's too much to ask. But I am entitled to a new year wish?

To Friendship. Sometimes all you need is a friend.

Ganesh Mehta : Father and Friend--Alain Clark.
Aakriti Sapra : Brielle--Sky Sailing.
Niharika Charla : Can't You See--The Marshall Tucker Band.
Devna Soni : To Build A Home--Cinematic Orchestra.
Ahana Datta : Hear You Me--Jimmy Eat World.
Apurv Sathe : Ud Jayega--Kumar Gandharva.
Sanya Kalani : Na Jaane Kyun--Chhoti Si Baat.
Garima Singal : American Pie--Don McLean.
Ragini Thakur : Que Sera Sera--Dorris Day.

Blog : Don't Say--St. Lola in the Fields.

Happy New Year.

What will your legacy be?

2010-12-28T01:06:00.000+05:30

2010 in a few words.

January : It was so cold. That's all I remember.

February : Band, baja, barat!

March : Just because I am losing, doesn't mean I have lost.

April : Nirvana.

May : Three's Company!

June : Yes, Madam.

July : Sorry.

August : Dwarfs, Goblins, Midgets and Little Ones.

September : Count your friends, when you're counting sheep.

October : Future Friend Found.

November : Helter Skelter.

December : Backseat.

Song Dedication : Nice Fox by The Rosebuds.

To Ahana. I am not your therapist. I am not your lover. I am not your gay best friend. I am just your WBF. Just wanted to tell you that you were far away, and so was I, but I always felt you were right here, next to me. I'll always be there for you. Always and Forever. Abh rona mat.

Need : Time Stopper

2010-12-17T12:26:00.002+05:30

I thought I'll make it a tradition. 3rd year in a row.

What do I need this time? Time Stopper. So that this moment would last forever.

1. I have two tests tomorrow, one on Monday and two submissions on Wednesday. Its best Time Stops now.

2. Mental State = Nothing. No emotion. Just calm. I love that. Content.

3. It's the best amount of winter, any more will be annoying.

4. The more time moves forward, the more guilty I feel for not studying. Internal Effing Exams.

5. I hate 25th Dec to 1st Jan. Each year it makes me feel like a boring person. Never any plans!

6. I have lots of saved up money!

7. I hate New Years. It brings no sort of new promise.

8. I feel so sleepy and lazy. Its so comforting.

9. I have the right amount of friends. Not too many, not too less. And with the right amount of depth in each.

10. I just want to stay here. I am a rigid old hag with no purpose in life, who refuses to help anyone. At least for now :P

Song Dedication : Cinematic Orchestra--To Build A Home.

Accept it, I am cool.

The Dagger.

2010-11-29T00:41:00.001+05:30

Eins.

She took out the knife,
Stabbed him continuously;
And she felt power.

Zwei.

But blood did rush fast,
From the bosom to head;
And she regretted.

Drei.

She stood at the edge,
For she could not live any more,
And she took the jump.

Vier.

Power hungry kill,
The money hungry kill too
All of us die soon.

Greensleeves by Vanessa Carlton. It reminds me of Shakespeare and the above of Lady Macbeth.

It's 3/13th and she won't ask. It's just the beginning.

[Looks Away]

2010-10-19T23:22:00.001+05:30

I wish I could quit. But I can't.

Sigh.

This is life. Lets all wait to die.

Zed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jib8_vjLvmY

Off with my quill for a while.

Peace.

2010-07-28T22:26:00.001+05:30

To Pimp.

Song Dedication : Aazaadiyan from Udaan

He stared lifelessly at the burning pyre in front of him. It kept burning, the flames rising towards the heavens and he kept staring. It burnt the body of his brother but it couldn't burn the memories of the past.

He stood there crying, hoping all of this was not true. Thinking what if he had lived, what if they could do something more and what if he lived just one more day. But he was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. He knew that, but sorrow is irrational. All he could do was stand there and think, and that's what he did do.

And finally the mass of wood and flesh was reduced to ashes. And that's what was left for him to stare at now. He saw it coming. It had to happen. God can't cause so much pain to one person. He had to liberate him from that pain. And spread the remaining bits to his loved ones. Disease kills. Depression kills.

He turned around to leave. He did not want to hug anyone. He did not want to talk to anyone. He just wanted his brother back. He looked up at the sky, hoping that there will be an answer. There was none. There are none. There is just one truth. People Always Leave.

He sat in his car and cried more. Moving on is not easy. But the only thing harder is holding on.

We need to be free. Free from bondage of the world. The person you love is there with your soul. Breathing and Living with you. Always. Infinity and Beyond. You just need to trust that and let everything go. It takes time.

I hope He is doing fine.

Aazaad.

There it is.

2010-07-08T21:08:00.003+05:30

Dedicated to The Losers.

Song : Hotel California by Eagles.

What do you see? Do you see what you're looking for? Maybe Not. Then who are you waiting for? Just fucking create it. If you don't get what you want, just create it. Not like you can't. Just need to want it bad. And if you've lost strength, then too bad, you gave up too soon. Then you are a loser, and if you're fine by being called that, then cool. Coz then you've got what you've been looking for.

Inspiration : The book my friend bought today.

Zed.

Goodbye.

2010-06-19T20:22:00.007+05:30

To This Month and Today.

Song : Death and All His Friends by Coldplay.

And softly he spoke the following words :

Parting is such sweet sorrow,
For we shall meet again, that I am sure.
On planets far away or in realms unknown,
In times to come and generations to see.
We will meet again, Dear Friend.
And until that moment, forget me not,
Cherish our memories and search for me.
And when we will, which I am sure we will,
It'll be magical, yet real,
Almost like your reflection discovering yourself,
And then, we will part again, to meet again,
Because Parting is sweet sorrow.
The least of any pain, for there is hope, nay surety, to meet again.
Adios, my love, I shall see you soon. And then we shall lie under the moonlit sky and plan our escape.
Escape from this world, onto the journey of Self Discovery.

And then He left them, to meet them again.

This is not even original. Shakespeare. Romeo. Brutus. Coldplay. Dido. The Little Prince.

HB.

You.

2010-06-18T00:13:00.003+05:30

Dedicated to Secret Tracks of the world, especially the ones I discovered.

Song Dedication : Silence. It speaks so much sometimes.

People love you.

People leave you.

People make you feel special.

People make you feel sad.

People intrigue you.

People irritate you.

People smile at you.

People smirk at you.

People appreciate you.

People abuse you.

People protect you.

People punish you.

People uplift you.

People upset you.

People are like that. They will do that. You can only deal with yourself.

So do that.

Who's She?

2010-05-21T22:06:00.005+05:30

And she entered the room, with her beautiful black hair.

Everyone else in the room consequently thought.

A2 : She's so pretty.

D1 : She's so dumb.

G2 : She's my new target.

Z11 : She's plastic.

W28 : She has such nice friends.

S7 : She's so bitchy.

H10 : Her dress is beautiful.

M4 : She's so South Delhi.

K5 : She's so helpful.

T19 : She's a slut.

F4 : She's so sweet to me.

O31 : She's a Lesbian.

R13 : Who's She?

So many tags. Who are you?

Song Dedication : I Don't Want To Be by Gavin DeGraw

This post is dedicated to my Langotia Yaar :)

Der Sinn des Lebens.

2010-05-17T01:22:00.007+05:30

To Vasudha Jain, for being with this blog since it's conception :)

Song : Yeh Zindagi Bhi by Shankar Ehsaan Loy

Image Credit : http://www.surrealart.com/images/0016__16x20___Cliffjumpers.jpg

Our lives are marked by routine. One that works in an infinite loop. We are born. We grow. We marry. We breed. We raise children. We earn. And one fine day, We die. It just happens with everyone and anyone. I dare say that all of those things are bad, but blind following, one that is sans questioning and reasoning, is bad. Following something that has been done since ages, simply coz it is that way, would be dumb. Status Quo by the virtue of Status Quo doesn't become right. We should act in ways we believe are right and not coz some assumed authority directed it that way. There are only two code of conducts that ever existed in the world, the earlier version is Religion and the latter is Law. It's funny how in both cases, common people barely have a say.

When I said, we should do things we believe in, I meant that the belief should derived by reason and logic. But then I wonder, is there scope for reason in the world? No matter how much logic we apply to the world, it still remains random and unpredictable. Whatever we do, seems useless then. Are Karma, Destiny and Luck the main factors of our lives? We don't know for sure. As much as I'd love to say that everything happens for a reason, the inability to find one always, just deludes me.

So coming back. What is the Purpose of Life? Why are we born? Are we to lead these mundane straight-jacketed lives? Just take birth, live and then die. I like to believe that there is some common purpose for all of us. Life can't be a torture we have to bear. There has to be more to it. Call me an optimist, but there has to be a goal, a focus, a direction that guides our lives. What that purpose is, I don't know, and any guess would push me into spirituality and religion. I want to keep those away for a while.

So let's say Person X has infinite desires. Unlimited and beyond control. Let's say there exists a Grocery Store in the Universe that'll fulfill all your desires. Person X uses this free grocery store. Do you think he'll be satiated? Do you think the world has the ability to fulfill you? To make you content? Can the possession of material things make you permanently happy, content and at peace? I disagree. They can't. My desires are unlimited and the Grocery Stock is unlimited too. I'll just would want more and more and more. And since it's available, I'll grab more and more and more. And yet not be content. So materiality would never make me happy. Then what will?

What would make us content lies beyond the material world. Something that is outside of all this. Away from all this. And it is only when the desire to fulfill the purpose is satisfied that we will be satisfied. It's a tautology. If the purpose is fulfilled, we will be fulfilled because our purpose is fulfilled.

So our lives are a routine. A routine journey to identify our purpose, find ways to fulfill the same and then eventually fulfill it. We are Humans. It can't be so hard that we suck at it. It's not Rocket Science. It can't be Rocket Science. Else it won't make sense. And the world is random, not nonsensical. It's the Science of the Self. The History of Man. The Accounts of our Virtues and Vices. The Politics of our Mind. And much more. Yet it can't be complex. It'll be basic and simple. Direct but hard to achieve.

I hope everyone finds their Purpose. Sooner or Later, I guess everyone will.

Khwab Jo.

2010-04-17T23:03:00.009+05:30

To Ahana Datta, for all your freaky dreams.

Song : Illusion and Dream by Poets of the Fall.

For the millionth time that day, he pressed a random key on his QWERTY phone so that the light would glow and he'd be able to see the time. It was 3:47 AM. He wanted to sleep. It'd been 5 hours since he'd been wracking his brains with T-shaped Accounts and Balance Sheets. The Mind wanted to rest. But then again, he had to study, exams were around.

I'll get a 6 hour sleep and wake up at 10, he thought. He set the Alarm on his fancy phone. Of course, waking up to your own alarm is the last thing people would trust themselves with.

So, he messaged his friend, Ganesh :

"Wake me up at 10, if you're up at 10."

And then he wished his girlfriend Good Night, plugged in his earphones, heard Illusion and Dream and finally slept like a baby.

He rubbed his eyes. Opened one of them and saw a tall figure standing.

The figure yelled, "Tell me the relation between peace and freedom! Now!"

"With silence comes peace, with peace comes freedom, with freedom comes silence," he said and went back to sleep.

Sometime later, he woke up again and checked his phone.

"4 New Text Messages"

He checked them. 3 forwards from some random person. Why would people send ridiculous fowards in the morning, he thought.

The last text read :

"Sorry, couldn't wake you up, woke up myself at 10:47. Just saw text."

It was from Gannu. He didn't bother. He didn't really expect Ganesh to wake him up, anyway. He fell asleep again.

Some more time later, he finally woke up, with sleep still hovering under his eyes. He saw that his phone still had unread text messages. He checked them. MBA-Universe and what not.

Just then, his phone vibrated.

"Gannu :) calling"

H : Kaminey kahi ke.

G : Kyun?!

H : Uthaya nahi na tune

G : Utha toh raha hoon. Get up chal, sissy.

H : Uth raha hoon

G : Acha bye, I have to sleep. (sleepy tone)

H : Khud soo le, saale. Bye (funny tone)

He then returned to his Inbox.

He looked for Ganesh's earlier message. He kept scrolling down. He went past the MBA ones, the forwarded ones and then he found the Good Night Ones. He was puzzled. He checked the other folders. No where.

Confused, he locked his phone and got out of his bed to do the morning things. He turned around and then like always, punched a random key on his phone to check the time.

9:47 AM.

It can't be Rocket Science.

2010-04-13T22:06:00.003+05:30

Exam time is here. Following is a list of messages. Will keep you updated with more. I like being wished. I like wishing people :)

13 April 03:57 AM

What things look like they oft are not.
What we decide to do with our course of facing challenges, we must be sure of them. Don't let the leaf of doubt sway in the wind of your knowledge. It is important to be certain. It is important to be accommodating. It is important to be awesome.
All the best. Sleep Well :)
PS: It can't be Rocket science. It just can't be.

12 April 2010, 03:28 AM:

It's not Rocket Science. And I'll try my best to nail it. It can't be that hard. It just can't. else it won't ever make sense. Else life would be a constant fight against failure and not aiming towards success. They'll make it hard for us to score and we'll make it harder for them to take away what we've earned. Thanks for your wishes. They mean the world to me. Good Night.

08 April 11:56 PM

Listen the two of you. Mera naam roshan karke aana kal. Logic and Accounts aren't Rocket Science. Give it your best.
Alles Gute! :D

08 April 12:33 AM

Teri Balance Sheet match hi nahi hogi abh. Saale wish toh kar de.

07 April 12:36 AM

Let's hope for the best.
Let's study the hardest.
Let us be the Best version of ourselves.
We can do this. And we will.
We are what we are and we'll be what we'll be :)
Cheers :)

07 April 12:35 AM

That 70% isn't far away. Even if it is, don't make it go away further. Just give this your best shot and be the best version of yourself, and everything will come easy. Just excel it. Yes You Can.

Coz Some Jeans are very tight :)

2010-03-20T21:34:00.000+05:30

To those who seek Perfection.

Song dedication : Human by The Killers

They can burn in Hell,
They can die a silent Death,
I will not bother.

They rely on me,
They trust me absolutely,
I do not want it.

Are Humans like this?
Yes, says mind, nay says bosom,
For we are Denser.

Few will realize how,
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,
Is not the Spirit.

So be angry, sad,
But strive for the Ultimate,
That alone is the Truth.

For those who didn't realize. They are all Haikus.

The Parable of the Prodigal Self

2010-03-14T20:33:00.003+05:30

To the many people, who think that they are always right, but might just be Blind Sheep.

Song Dedication : Prodigal by OneRepublic and Let it Be by The Beatles.

Ok, I don't know how many of you have heard the story of the Prodigal Son from the Bible, but before I go on with my rant, you must know it. So here goes copy + paste from Wiki.

The story is found in Luke 15:11-32. Jesus tells the story of a man who has two sons. The younger demands his share of his inheritance while his father is still living, and goes off to a distant country where he "waste[s] his substance with riotous living" and eventually has to take work as a swineherd (clearly a low point, since swine are unclean in Judaism). There he comes to his senses and decides to return home and throw himself on his father's mercy, thinking that even if his father does disown him, being one of his servants is still far better than feeding pigs. But when he returns home, his father greets him with open arms and hardly gives him a chance to express his repentance. He kills a fatted calf to celebrate his return. The older brother resents the favored treatment of his faithless brother and complains of the lack of reward for his own faithfulness. But the father responds:

" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.'

So it's broadly about a son, who made his own decisions, went away and eventually came back.

Now what I wanna talk about is, the feeling of going and the feeling of coming back.

The feeling of going. Why did the Son go away? Because that's what his own Self wanted. Why do we stray away from the norm? Because we think it's right. Is our own feeling incorrect simply coz it's not widely accepted? No. Or at least it shouldn't be that way. What I mean is, the Son or even us, are never wrong in trying to experiment, in trying to do what maybe perceived to be wrong or doing the wacky, even though we infringe on so many rights of other individuals. Especially coz that's how mistakes are made. And discoveries found.

Here is where the distinction must be made between my own mistakes and learning from someone else's mistakes. It wouldn't be incorrect to say that some people know the outcome of actions and that we should learn from them. And that's how you learn from the past. But that learning is purely limited, for times change and also concepts of right and wrong. So if the world largely believes that Pop Musik is crap when compared to Rock, one should get into both and then make that decision independently. And that's not the mistake of believing in Pop, but simply a judgment that should be yours and not someone else's. Same with Religion. You think the scriptures are nonsense, maybe once you read them you'll know for sure. Ascribing to a particular belief system, simply coz it's modern and fancy, is the dumbest thing to do. So if I believe that I don't want to have children, maybe I should spend some time with my young nephew to be sure that this is what I want or not. Of course, somethings like rape and murder are intrinsically bad, so don't commit the mistake of Rape, and say I was just checking.

The feeling of return. Once you've done your research, figured out what you believe is right and wrong, there could be two cases. Either your conclusion matches the world's or it doesn't. In Case One, you're pretty much fucked, coz the world was right all along and you were wrong. But I personally believe that the feeling of knowing by yourself trumps everything else. So if I concluded somehow that Religion was inevitable in the world, for a moral code of conduct is required and one constructed out of rights cannot operate, and that too is the larger belief, then me knowing on my own, through my own study of society will give me a surety of truth. On the other hand, a mere acceptance of the above would be playing Blind Sheep. And the confidence of truth and it's proof is great relief in the head.

Now the receptive aspect of the feeling of return, The Father or The World. If you look closely, The Father accepted The Son. He had no more qualms, no problems and was just so happy that His Son had finally returned. And that precisely is what The World should be like. Open to forgiveness and ready to hold you in it's arms. However that really doesn't happen. The World, or so I have experienced, more often than not, becomes arrogant and virtually says-->"I told you so!" And it's this feeling that creates fear of experimentation. What if I am wrong? What if the World is the rule and I am the exception? And it's this attitude of The World, that kills many hearts, either by the means of killing the passion of experimentation or by "I told you so!" This is what I call The Prodigal Feeling.

What is worse, is when the world follows a certain belief without concrete proof and when you find that concrete proof by challenging the existing, you become the dumbfuck and The Prodigal Son. So if The World believes in God, and you question the existence of God, and thereby in your research find that god truly exists, you are the person The World will call mad.

Another interesting dimension is this. If you have the courage to go against the norm, then the questions and comments from the norm shouldn't bother you and hence fuck the world. But the beauty is this. You can never be independent of the world. Or so is the case with me. The World is my check and balance and which is why Prodigalness fucks me over so much. The World will always tell me what it believes, by proof or not, and in that check, it will continue to question what I do at every step of my own journey. And that constant questioning troubles me so much. But then of course, I am learning to rationalize it, yet at times I am angry at The World/The Father for being hypocritical and questioning without actual proof or self discovery. I am certain about myself, you may also find something similar.

In Case Two, when proof is contrary to larger belief, it becomes your duty to propagate the right belief, how you do it, is the matter of later post :)

And that's about it. Prodigal Self is interesting. Our Journey is our own. People can tell me The Beatles are awesome, gift me the Musik of The Beatles, but at the end, it's my own choice to like/dislike them. And if I like them, merely coz The World does, then I am Blind Sheep. And I don't want to live with that.

Two Hindi phrases before I end.

1. Bhed-Chal

2. Subah ka bhoola agar shaam ko aaye, toh usse bhoola nahi kehte.

Idol. Idle. Ideal.

2010-02-24T22:05:00.006+05:30

Ok, this one will include random facts about me to the conclusions I make of the world. So bear with the randomness.

To Gannu :)
For being a good Idol for me.
For never being idle and always on the move.
For being the Ideal Chosen Family.

Idol.

I was reading this book the other day, about Adi Shankaracharya, and this is what it had to say which I thought was awesome. It said that idols were important, or some sort of association, with an object or something tangible to be able to understand something intangible or subtle like spirituality or the Higher Power. It went on to say, that if you had a statue of a judge, then that object would constantly remind you of the beliefs of justice and the steps and measures that that particular judge took to achieve justice. The ideas of justice are present in us, however, they are reinforced only when we meet such an object. We all know Gandhi helped us loads during the freedom struggle, but since we weren't there when he did all that, we don't know the kind of aura he had, or his modus operandi, or his awesome-ness, which is why you have all these externalities trying to achieve the same level of greatness he had or at least trying to project that he was that awesome. The same is with Religion. Just coz you offer flowers to an Idol, doesn't mean that God is actually adorned with all of that. Just coz a statue is guarded by police, doesn't mean that the actual person when he existed had security around him all the time. And therefore, all offerings, all charity and all love that one displays towards a God Idol, is simply there to give some tangibility to a Higher Concept. It exists to give some direction. The underlining truth here is that it is very difficult to conceptualize a higher power and be obedient to it, without actually developing a mode of praying or ritual. The other truth here is, that, ultimately the Higher power will be realized sans an idol association, however that level of understanding is not present in everyone and can be only achieved once this Idol Worship phase has been crossed or at least understood. One cannot achieve the Higher Power without having a holistic view. After all, the essence me, is the essence in you.

There is one Idol I carry with me in my bag, Lord Ganesh. Though my dream, is to have my own house, which would have one really large idol of Lord Krishna playing the flute. I think that's awesome.

And My Idol in life, no one ever qualified that much to have so much influence to guide me in my life. I always choose my own course. Of course I always had my favourite people to guide me.

Idle

That's what used to be my facebook chat status always. Now of course it's never that coz I hardly go online. I sometimes wonder, if idle time is in fact the most productive time. Maybe that's perhaps the only time we think the most. Our entire day, like it or not, is mostly a routine and it's only when we are absolutely free, that we can associate with ourselves and possibly think. Imagine, the time when you are in bed waiting for sleep, or possibly after you've just woken up and are in bed, you're absolutely idle. And that's when you think. About the day that has past or is about to start. And that thinking decides so much of your mood. And your mood affects everything.

On the other hand, we all love idle time. In the past 6 months, I can list so many occasions when I just wanted idle time. No debates, no friends, no family, no work, nothing. Just a break. A vacation. And that could just be sitting in my room doing absolutely nothing. Lazying around. And that idle time, I am sure would rejuvenate me. And perhaps bring back the vigour and "junoon." I don't know when I lost it, but I am certain I have. Maybe lost in the mundane-ness of life.

And that's about it.

Ideal

Now this is something that pisses everyone off. Being the best. And somehow parents always want you to be the ideal child. Don't worry, I won't rant about like a thirteen year old. But this is what I wonder about. Do I want to be perfect? Do I want to be the ideal? Can I be the ideal? I don't know about the third one, but I am certain about the first two. It's a No. I don't want to be the best. I like flaws. I guess it gives me the feel that I am normal. That I am like others. However, of course I don't believe in turning my brain off and walking blindly where the world is headed. To believe differently, doesn't make you Ideal. What makes you ideal then? Adherence to norms? A good citizen? What is it? I don't know. It's strange that I don't know what it is, but I am certain I don't want it. You can call me dumb. But even when Harry Potter had the Deathly Hallows, he gave them up. He didn't want the perfectness. It's annoying.

Ideally, I should run a spell check after I write a blog, but trust me it's the worst formality in the world. Almost a necessary evil. I hate it :/

What are my ideals? What should be anyone's ideals? To do good, whatever good be.

Ideal. It's a scary word.

Bas yaar, that's enough. Thanks to Devna and Ganesh for their contribution of ideas in this. I am certain their brains will spot it.

I think this should do the dramatic ending :

Idol.
Idle.
Ideal.

Coz you're beautiful..

2010-01-26T20:15:00.004+05:30

At the very outset, Happy Birthday Blog, it's been two years :)

To the one I love :)

Song dedication : Edge of Desire by John Mayer

He walked down those stairs, one by one, hoping with each step that what he'd been looking for in the entire market, would finally be here. Sale time is just annoying. You enter the market and all you see is big posters glaring into your eyes, red, black, blue, with even more huge numbers being forcefully stuffed into your brain. Yes, that's all. Good clothes are always rare. So yes, Jaimie, went down those stairs, hoping he'd find the jacket he had been looking for. Stripes of two bright colours and a zipper with a hood. It was that precise.

He entered the first shop in the basement market. On the right was a long line of thick sweaters of varied colours. On the other side, was another line of T-shirts. And finally somewhere in the corner of the L-shaped shop, was a line of jackets. The corner was away from the owner's eyes. Jaimie wondered, if people shoplifted here. With a simple glimpse of the eye, Jaimie could make out that the piece of his choice wasn't there. But his eye had been caught by something else. A beautiful girl, with jet black her and sharp features was standing there, holding a white sweater. She was sparkling there among the gloom of winter clothing. Her skin was flawless, her eyes so black and wide, her clothing simply awesome. Jaimie lost his heart right there.

The girl turned to the spectator. She moved towards him. Jaimie's heart started thumbing madly. Did she know? What would she say? Would she slap me? Such thoughts circled Jaimie's mind. Once she was just next to him, she said in her melodious voice, "Hi, my brother is just about your size, do you mind trying this on, so I could see if it would fit him?"

Thank God. That's what kept revolving around Jaimie's mind. He gladly took the sweater. He took off his, revealing his black shirt and a bit of his naked tummy. He then inserted his head into the white sweater, struggled to find the head and sleeve openings and once he did, took his body parts out of them. He then adjusted the sweater to his body type, and finally she could see how the sweater would look.

It fitted him perfectly. It was as if, his grandmother had knitted the sweater to his size. And the white colour matched perfectly with the black collar that stuck out. She then said, "It's so pretty, thanks, I think I'll buy it." She ran her hand down Jaimie's chest feeling the wool of the sweater. And then there was a moment of silence. Both of them kept staring at each other, lost in each others eyes. It was love.

He then felt her cheek with his palm. And then she dragged him into the trail room. And then he kissed her. And she kissed him back. And then love was sealed. And then she took out a pen from her purse and wrote him her number on his soft palm. And he kept smiling.

Jaimie then asked, "Can I keep this sweater?"
And she nodded and moved towards the exit of the shop. Jaimie followed her, and saw her making conversation with the shop owner. That sent chills down his spine. What if they had a hidden camera? What if this was the unseen corner and to curb shop lifting, they kept camera surveillance? What if he was screwed?

But he remained confident. He kept walking, however slowly, towards the gate. He overheard them saying,

"Sorry Bhai, there is nothing nice in your shop."
"There is Little Sister, you just have too high standards."

Fuck. That's what now circled in Jaimie's head. They were siblings. He was now dead. The Brother would surely beat him up. But he still remained confident, and went ahead. She had left by now.

"Yes," said Mr. Brother.
"Just this one white sweater I am wearing," Jaimie said.
"500 please. Do you want me to pack your other sweater?"
"Thank you so much," Jaimie said handing him a 500 note.
"Your welcome," Mr Brother said, handing him the bag with his old sweater.

And then it was over. He didn't know. And Jaimie was happy. Not only did he not know, he didn't even see the number on his palm. That reminded him, he had to call her. After all she loved him too. Why else would she make him try the sweater?

I love you.

2009-12-28T20:36:00.009+05:30

Ok. New year is here. This time, I plan to thank some people/things for what they've done for me. This year was weird. Ups and Downs. Like a nice tide. But right now, I am content and happy. So I like 2009. Here goes :

On top of the list, is Kirori Mal College, Thank you for the independence, the awesomely weird teachers who throw me out of class always, the debating society, the chalks and walls, the back gate, the nice location and almost everything. My award for the Person/Institution/Thing of the year :)

Now everything is in random order.

1. My 12th std Tutors : Thank you! That 100 is yours. My accountancy brilliance is also yours :)

2. Ahana Datta : For being WBF. I miss you.

3. Smirnoff : For all the Vodkaaaa(Cheap Jat style) High. It really started a lot of new friendships and hell lot of secret revelations.

4. Bit Comet, Isohunt, Mininova and others : Thank you for all the torrents. My music = yours.

5. Charla and Aastha : I can't imagine college without you both. My two B.Com Pillars :)

6. Spacealpha : For being a friend :)

7. Moto Q9 : For being the awesomest flashy smartphone ever! I Heart You :P

8. Sunita Chawla : I love my SuperMom. She is the best :)

9. Mandy and Sheru : Thank you :)

10. To the girl who turned me down, I am so happy you did.

11. Google : For having answers to everything.

12. Aakriti Sapra : For being this awesome person :)

13. Devna Soni : For asking so many questions :)

14. Rs 34 Recharge : For all the unlimited texting.

15. Fellow Bloggers : For reading, blogging and being here!

16. Fellow Readers : For reading, re-reading and coming here!

17. Travel people : Thank you for booking my train tickets, if you ever did so. It's an ANNOYING procedure.

18. All those I hate : For teaching me a lot about life and the person I don't want to be.

19. Ganesh Mehta : For creating and solving a problem so easily :)

20. Aditi Ghosh : For being my editor for life!

21. Gautam Chawla : For being there :)

22. Baldhi : For all the jokes :)

23. Adjudicators : For teaching me everything about Burdens. I might never have won a PD, but I know everything about what I have to prove and not prove in a debate. Actually I am still not sure.

24. Shakespeare : For still being associated with this blog :)

25. Gary : For the late Diwali Night conversations :)

26. Homeward Bound : For the crazy parties. Thank you OSA!

27. NLS : For an awesome debating trip!

28. People Speak : For a lot of things :)

29. IMS : For improving my thinking process :P

30. Bollocks, C***t, F**k, Ass, Chee, Reatrd etc etc : For making my vocabulary so rich and always being able to release the tension.

31. Hindu wale Chole Kulche : DELICIOUS.

32. Coldplay, Mayer, OneRepublic, Beatles etc etc : For Good Musik!

33. Elizabeth Salesburg : For being the person you are :)

34. Facebook : For ruining my studies :P

35. John Players : For the Blue Jacket I love :)

36. Mayank Vashishtha : For debating kickass :)

37. CP : For being CP :)

38. CBS : For letting me know what I really want, or at least that I don't know what I want.

39. Costa Coffe : For being different from other Coffee Places.

40. Fashion Disasters : For making me feel that the way I dress is in fact best.

41. Flock : For being the only stable browser after Opera.

42. Macky Dees(LOL, McDonalds) : For the fattening burgers :)

43. "Deal With It","As you wish" : For being phrases that always help you give advice.

44. Lord Krishna, God, Almighty : You're the person. Thanks for all the strength. Been quite a year.

45. DigiCam : For so many pictures!

46. Gtalk : For so many memorable conversations!

47. Match point & Closer : For being movies that ask awesome questions.

48. Twilight : For being a weapon to kill any guy.

49. Sight : Thank You eyes, for behaving nicely. Aise hi rahoo :)

And that's it. I think leaving this list hanging at 49 is appropriate. I don't know if it'll ever be complete. I might have left someone/something/someplace and to them is dedicated this post and it's incompleteness. Thank you everyone. I love you.

Song Dedication : Roll Your Windows Down by Casey Shea.

Evaluation Time!

2009-12-26T12:22:00.012+05:30

Dedicated to the teacher who corrected my English Board Exam Paper. What I am about to do, is what you would have done in my paper. We are so similar.

Song Dedication : Forevermore by Katie Herzig. Don't ask how I heard this song. It just reminds me there is Utopia somewhere, and all the resolutions I make can someday stand fulfilled.

Ok. On 9 January 2009, I posted a bunch of things I wanted to do in 2009, titled The New Year calls for.... Now is the time to evaluate and see how much has been fulfilled and how much is pending.

The new year calls for..:

1. More Study....Study till Death...and STUDY

Status : It's just gone down and down. FAILED.

2. To get into DU, implication of 1.

Status : PASSED. Chalo kuch toh kiya.

3. To Yawn less in class.

Status : FAILED. College forces you to yawn, especially in the first lecture of the day.

4. To get the new Coldplay album-- Prospekts March at any cost, even if it involves....

Status: PASSED. Thank You Ahana, the best gift of the year.

5. To be more athletic... :(

Status: I did join the gym for 2 months. I don't know if that counts. FAILED I guess.

6. To Blog more, but not like Ahana, who'll post everyday wishing someone Happy B'day. Hey Hawky, happy belated bday anyways.

Status : FAILED. Largely the same number of posts as last year.

7. To learn dance ?!?!?!

Status : FAILED. Though Devna did tell me a thing or two about dancing. That doesn't count.

8. Not to advocate youth empowerment, but do it yourself

Status : FAILED. Is debating included in this?

9. To direct, act, or do something in some play!!!!

Status: FAILED. Is watching street plays included in this? Coz I did that a lot. Thank you Chepe :P

10.To begin Magnum Opus.

Status : FAILED. Sorry.

11. Not to harbour regrets of any sort.

Status : Under Construction.

12. IMP: Not to be SINGLE

Status : Sorry, It's complicated.

13. To read more and more and more......

Status: FAILED. I have read least in this year. but does buying books count? Coz I have done that a lot. Reminds me, i have to buy Shantaram.

14. To go solo travelling maybe with a bunch of backpackers??? Really??

Status : I did travel a lot. Bombay, Vashno Devi, Bangalore. I think this is PASSED.

15. To Carve a Niche. To be Chota-Shakespeare. To be the Best. Should I go for Roadies? Lol...I know someone who should. I love Inside Jokes!!!!!!!

Status : Dunno about that. I think it's a FAILED, just coz this # 15 is such a BAD joke.

So I have largely failed everything. Not a good thing. But well that's okay. I learnt a lot about myself this year, that matters :)

A very colourful Post, I must say :P

;) Always in Laughter,

Rohan!

(ChotaShakespeare)

Need : Time Skipper Again

2009-12-04T21:47:00.005+05:30

Yes, it's that time of the year when I need gadgets to skip days. This time it's just tomorrow. Yes it's Annual day again. 5 reasons why I want to skip tomorrow:

1. I don't know anything about Regression Analysis and have a Test tomorrow.

2. I don't want the award. Annual Day = Bad memories.

3. I have finished my supply of Tic Tacs :(

4. I have a lot of work to do.

5. I don't want to meet people in school and smile at them, as if I miss them so much.

Also, this time, I need a Time Turner, for I want to re live some days that have passed. 5 reasons why:

1. I want to change the result of that quarter finals and give my best LOP speech, so that we could win the debate.

2. I miss "sleeping with" Champa Jaan.

3. I want to go back to Bangalore and do all things I didn't do, namely :

Contact Ahana.
Meet Gautam
Meet Pari
Go to MG Road / Scary fort

4. I don't want to live tomorrow, so might as well go back.

5. I miss debating till midnight and then talking till early morning and then waking up at noon. It was so much fun. One year till it happens again.

So yeh, call me an escapist to run away from things and a cry baby to miss old times, but at least I am honest about it. ;)

But since no one has a time gadget, I'll do what I always do.

Deal With it.

Blowing Wind :)

2009-11-26T21:43:00.000+05:30

To Charla, for making people happy. :)

"Oye! Dhyaan se! Don't fall off." Niharika stared at Rohan as he stood leaning from the train compartment door. The wind blew through his hair making it look like a comet's tail. The wind pierced it's way through his eyes forcing them to close. After some time he turned to Niharika and said, "Wanna try?"

"Pagal hain. I don't wanna do this,"

"Come on. Please"

"Okay," she said. Her eyes had that tinge of excitement, which probably everyone has when they do something 'awesome' for the first time.

"Great! Now hold these two bars and look outside" instructed Rohan.
And Niharika did accordingly. And the wind blew through her hair. And it pierced her eyes. But she kept looking outside. The wind has it's own magic.
Rohan then took over and started looking outside. And then he yelled.

"Fuck You!"

"Dude why did you do that," asked Niki(typing Niharika again again is slighting irritating)

"Man, I like standing here. It's like the wind is strong, but you can cut right through it and stay unaffected. Duniya bhi aisi kamini cheez hain. It fucks you, but you hardly come out unaffected. The world changes you. You fit yourself in the world. But here you can just be you, and still win. I like it. Oh and I love the way the wind blows into my hair. It's so cool."

Both of them smiled. Rohan was now just standing at the door.
Niki asked,"So tell me one thing, is changing yourself the only way to face the world?"

"Certainly not. You can change the world. But changing yourself is just easier and the benefit is immediate"

"True." replied Niki.

"Dooooood(Dude) look at that!!" Rohan said pointing at a random field.

"What?" asked Niki

"It's a scare-crow! In an actual field! Have you ever seen one?"

"No, but okay." she said smilingly.

At that point Devna came.

"Tell me you've come to brush your teeth" said Rohan.

"No, what are you guys upto?"

"Aye haye. We just saw a scare-crow. Isn't that awesome? Have you ever seen one?" said an excited Rohan.

Devna made a weird expression and said "Of course I have. Maybe you should camp in the country side more."

Everyone started laughing.

"Acha I have to take a piss, so bye!" And Devna left.

"Dooooood, look outside. What the fuck is this? Trees. Fields. No animals. And more trees. What is this? Kaun rehta hain yahan? And do these people vote?" asked Rohan.

"Hmm...True."

"Man, you know what would be super awesome, that if we were dictators with supernatural powers. And then we could destroy these pseudo-hills with like some great flashing red light coming from our palm." said Rohan.

"No yaar. People would get killed" said Niki.

"Gee. You are an altruist. So how about we come to these tree areas once in a year, show off our flashing power to the people and go back?"

"Yah that's nice. You are truly a power hungry slut. You know what I think about this?"

"Nahi. Batao."

"I think this is very romantic."

"It is."

And they smiled, still looking outside, hoping that one day they would stand here with the person they love.

"You wanna go back?" said Rohan.

"Yeah. Let's go back." said Niki.

And they walked back inside. And the wind continued to blow.

The First Lecture

2009-10-07T00:44:00.002+05:30

To Devna Soni. I will always be your Faccha.

The professor stared silently at the classroom door. Years earlier he had been on the other side of the door waiting for his first college lecture to start. Never did he realise, until now of course, that the feeling would be far weirder and worse than it was then. This was going to be embarrassing, he thought.

He opened the classroom doors and saw a group of nearly 70 students. All of them, all 70 of them, turned their heads into his direction. They placed themselves on their benches and everything was at peace. The professor gulped and walked towards the teachers table.

“Good Morning. I am Mr. X and I am going to teach you Microeconomics for this Semester,” he said.

Everyone in the first row wrote down his name and subject. Mr. X was still freaked out. He continued.

“You will find your syllabus in the brochure that you received at the time of your admission. It is largely the same course that you’ve studied in school, just in greater detail. Are there any questions?”

Not a soul in the classroom said anything. Mr. X’s hands and feet went cold. He feared this only, lack of matter in his opening lecture. But then suddenly something happened.

“In the circles of education, there is something called the Last Lecture. Every professor before his retirement is informed about his Last Lecture. In that final lecture, the teacher sums up his life, what he has learnt and conveys whatever he wishes to tell his students. It is like a dying man’s message. A final message that will alter their thinking or at least so is the aim.”

“But what has been extremely less talked about or perhaps never has been, is The First Lecture. Every teacher has a first class, and no one knows what to say. Everyone just ends up talking about the subject they teach and then to kill time, tell a class of over 50 to introduce themselves. What I think is that, the last lecture should in fact be the first. It is because the earlier you confuse young minds the better it is.”

“I might sound like a fool, but listen carefully. The older you get, the more adjusted your mind is to the world. And that is exactly what some people want—the continuation of status quo. But if you are exposed to various thoughts, to various life experiences and to varied teachings, it is then that you are confused, and it is only now that you make an informed choice. The ideal market is that of perfect competition”

He stopped and took a close look at the class. Some seemed interested, some seemed bored and the first row was still taking notes, as if this was going to be questioned on.

“What I have learnt and what I know of this Subject is what I am going to transfer to you. But I feel the duty of a teacher goes far beyond that. During my education, I have had many teachers. Definitely more than a 100. But there are only a few that I remember today. It is to those few that I feel truly indebted. And that is because they taught me how to live life. They told me about their mistakes, so that I don’t commit the same errors. And I am going to tell you those and my own mistakes, so that life is easier for you.”

Mr. X paused.

“However, there is a flip side to that. I may ask you to abstain in a certain situation, but if your consciousness asks for you to do something else, you trash my idea and go ahead with yours. Because that is what students should do. They should question. They should ask. They should fight with the teacher. And most importantly they should experiment. Experiment with new ways of doing things. This is the time of your life. Experiment. Just don’t run to the nearest bar and go drinking, because I told you to experiment new things.”

Laughter. At least they were listening if not comprehending. That acted as a compensation for Mr. X to continue.

“But there are teachers who will never want you to succeed. Because if you outrun them, you should be the teacher and not that ass who taught you. That is the distinction between a good teacher and a true teacher. A true one would always want you to outrun them, because there is nothing more pleasing than a student succeeding.”

“You must understand a teacher faces a hell lot of issues. A very important one of them is what to teach? It is so confusing to answer that. But if your own student outruns you, you at least have the satisfaction that whatever you had, you’ve taught him and that your job is now over. And that you have truly achieved the purpose of a teacher.”

The class smiled. 

“So listen to the advice that I give you. But also experiment with new things. Try out alternate methods of doing things. And eventually leave me behind. Outrun me, and make me the happiest teacher in the world. But in this entire process there is one thing you should never forget and that is Humility. Be humble. Always understand that there are people below you, but at some point, you were there too. So give them respect. And that there will always be people above you. You need to learn from them. So respect them too. Never let your talent take possession of you. Never.”

“I think that is enough for today. I want you all to go through the reading list which is also in the brochure. Oh, are there any questions?”

The class was silent. In the last row a boy thought to himself—Kitna bada Chu hain yeh.
The boy next to him thought---Kitna bada double Chu hain yeh.
The boy next to this one raised his hand.

“Yes,” said Mr X identifying the third boy.

“Sir, why did you decide to become a teacher?” he asked.

Mr. X smiled. He replied.

“Simply put, because I love to give.”

The third boy nodded. The girl sitting next to him thought—Kitna Gay hain.

The third boy thought---Kitna amazing hain.

“Any more questions?” asked Mr. X once again.

No one said anything.

“Well it was nice to meet you guys. See you around.”

Mr. X exited.

And the class was now officially confused.

Wake me up when September Ends.

2009-09-30T20:44:00.009+05:30

Oh September is already over. And today is the third of October. But I am still going to post this on a the 30/09/09 date, else September will have Zero posts; And I wouldn't like that.

This is a draft of what I was planning to post. Will finish it and post it at a later date. Just have a look :

Truth is referred to as a true statement, true being something which is a fact. A fact cannot be reversed or changed. It is final in its nature. It is in its essence what it is. There can be multiple views to a fact, but the fact remains the same. Thus, something which is true, will always be true, the inference however can be varied.

Oratory gives perspective to facts. It gives facts inference and whatever conclusion you want to draw, you can draw from it with Oratory as a tool. Thus if two people have a fact in front of them and they have to convince people of their respective conclusions, they can only do so with the help their speaking abilities.

It can be better understood this way. Suppose there is a shadow. Now the fact in this analogy is that a shadow is created by an object. Now if you’re looking at the shadow how do you identify the object; you simply change the direction in which you are looking. Now since you haven’t ever seen that object before, whatever you see of it then you assume that it is that. Oratory provides that change in direction. Whatever you want someone to see of the object; you can with that change in direction, which in essence is oratory. In other words, oratory is a change in direction which is done to identify the object; the identification of the object being the discretion of the Orator. Now that could either provide you awesome clarity or just confuse you beyond measure.

The End

2009-08-31T23:37:00.001+05:30

Death is weird.

He was going through the stuff in the box. He placed each item on the bed, carefully separating them into different categories. Just then his sister entered the room.

"Raj, what are you looking for?" questioned Mehar.
"Nothing, Mom asked me to clean up these boxes. All this is pretty old stuff. I don't know if she wants to keep them," said Raj, still doing the sorting.
"Well, they do serve as good memories," said Mehar.

Mehar's phone started ringing and she left the room. Raj continued his item differentiation. At the bottom of the box were some folded papers. Now in moments like these, especially in films, the hero finds papers of a hidden will or a treasure map or something that totally transforms the world. Raj took out the sheets and tried to read them.

The paper was real bad quality. Not as bad as meant for rough work, but it wasn't any good either. It had a grayish tone to it. He unfolded them to find that someone had written in them. The ink was "pilot" blue. The handwriting was extremely bad. The characters were badly formed and the hand was surely trembling when these were written out. They were probably written from the non writing hand. A quick glance through all of them showed that the person was equally bad at spelling. Nowhere had Raj read such bad English spellings. One of them had a lot of numbers written on it.

Raj began reading the first one.

It's 3 PM.
I am fine here. Don't worry.
Most of the time I sleap. They are caring well.
Time is passing. Please sit only one person outside.

He turned the paper to see it's other side. Down in the corner it read :

Hansraj Baldhi.
NS 4.

In that very moment, Raj understood who had written them and when. He wondered why no one ever showed it to him. He had full right to know. One by one he read all of his father's last letters. Though they didn't have nothing new to say, Raj kept on reading them again and again. He was 2, when his father died.

Each letter asked everyone to calm down and be relaxed. Each of them conveyed his father's reassurance to them, that he was doing well and that the doctor's were doing their job well. The pain was evident in the letters. His helplessness, his loneliness and his misery were shouting out loud from those notes. It pained Raj to go through them, but it was the only communication he would ever have with his Dad. He sat numb looking at the letters before him.

He didn't know how much time passed, but his Mom entered soon and saw what had happened. She sat next to Raj and put her arm around her son. It felt warm and comforting.

"He wrote that one, to explain the loan he had given to a friend," said his mother pointing at the one which had a lot of numbers.

"He knew he wouldn't live," said Raj.
"I guess at some level everyone did, but it was a miracle that all of us were waiting for," explained Raj's Mom.
"Why didn't you ever show me these?"

Silence. Then Raj's mother called to his sister Mehar.

"Yes Mom." said Mehar.
She saw the letters. She had seen them before and knew what they represented. She had a weird look.

"Mehar I want you to take these and get rid of them."
"What? Why?!" exclaimed Raj.
Mehar had started collecting the letters. She too wanted them to go away. It was way too painful to have them around. They were like a portal that transported them into a sea of misery and gloom. This had to end.

Raj then snatched the letters and said "These will be with me. You don't want them--Okay! But I want them and I shall keep them."

"Sweetie you don't understand.." said Raj's Mom
"Mom, Please."
"Raj it's for the best..." said Mehar
"Mehar, this is what Dad is to me. I have never seen him, been with him, had his love...This is the only part that lives on. Please"

Both the ladies looked at each other and sighed. They left the room and Raj collected the letters. He went straight to his drawer and locked them in.

There were times when Raj would take them out and read them. They made him sad, but then he never refused to give them away. It's strange how we(including CS) know what troubles us, are aware of the cause of our pain yet never do we cut it off. It's worrisome that the mind likes to be sad. That if we were in Utopia, the thing we'd miss the most would be pain. To be depressed it seems comes naturally to us.

Right. The story is over. Now talking about the First three words of the post.

There is nothing about Death. Nothing Good. Nothing Bad. Nothing Neutral. Death is just nothing. It hurts when someone dies. That's all. There seems no explanation when one should die. Should it be when one is very ill or very old or very young( since old age has more misery)? Or should it be when one has fulfilled the purpose of their life? What then is the purpose of life?

Death scares the hell out of us. Yet it's the last thing we think about on a normal day. I mean, how many times do you think that--Oh My God, I should be careful, I could die. There are a million ways to die. And one could die anytime. Do we think how we will die? There are infinite ways to live life. One for each homo sapien. Which way is the best?

Death wrecks our lives apart. It just comes and everything falls apart. It just puts an end to some things and the beginning of others. Death just stops you. You can't connect with the deceased. They are gone, forever. And where--we don't know. Maybe we shouldn't know. But then what do we know about death, except that it will come one day?

Death will kill you. That's the truest statement ever. I don't tell you to enjoy your life or not to mourn those who've gone. I don't tell you anything. I just question. And I conclude that Death is weird. And that we will never be happy, because Death sucks. Your life, your smiles and in it's very nature.

Yet sometimes Death is all what we need. For Freedom from pain. For change. And For the greater good.

350 !

2009-07-29T22:23:00.002+05:30

I helped make this--->

As for REAL BLOG POSTS, let's say I am recovering and will write something NICE soon.

Till then think about the following question:

If you had a dog, what would you name it? ( This is just RANDOM )

Take Care, I'll BRB soon.
:)

He thought he'd forgotten until...

2009-06-14T22:36:00.005+05:30

Ashish plugged in his earphones into his new swanky iPod. He played the first song. Pure Bliss. Finally he could be at peace with his music. Nothing made him more happier or more satisfied. "Imagine all the people..." It was beautiful.

Ashish started walking on the path in the park. There were many people who were doing the exact same thing as he was. They were walking on a late evening with a dark sky. Ashish was enjoying his music to the fullest. And then his mind, like all minds, couldn't sit idle and started bringing up thoughts.

He thought about his First Crush. About how beautiful she was, about her charm, her charisma and the magic that she created. He thought about how he told her, how he asked her out, how they were such a happy couple and how wonderful was the time that they spent with each other. All this got Ashish to smile, wide and clear. What a wonderful feeling it was, he thought.
(Pause--No Thinking)
He then thought about what a big ballistic suicidal bitch she was and how he left her for good.
Round # 1 Over.

Ashish was now humming to "When you're gone...." Avril Lavinge USED TO sing well. Marriage is wonderful, only if it doesn't change you from rock to Blondie. Ashish then started admiring the little children that were playing in the garden area. Oh, how terrific the Summer Vacation was. He remembered all his neighbourhood friends and the amazing time they used to spend together during the breaks. The endless sitting in the AC and playing Computer games, the coming out in the evening and playing the silliest game inventions. The fighting on cheating, the grouping up to eliminate a "friend" we did not like(only in a game, we were children not Mean Girls) and playing Badminton in the street lights. That was nice.
(Pause.)
He then went to think how all of them made new friends, found new interests, met each other lesser and lesser and how inviting on birthdays had become more of a formality.
Round # 2 Over.

Track on iPod: Graduation Song by Vitamin C. Ashish now shifted his attention to school. 14 years of getting up and going to the same building. He surely was going to miss it all. Being a non-study dumb child, who gets C+ in handwriting to a multi-talented and multi-faceted person, school had its own USP. It was strange how time passed and school went on, and how he changed so much. He could imagine himself growing in those corridors and halls.
(You know what should be written here)
Ashish then though of the last year of his schooling. The demagogue Principal, the sick mucky politics that he encountered, the blatant ignorance to his contribution to the institution he loved, all were memories he wanted to forget.
Round # 3 Over.

And there were more rounds. And there were more memories. And obviously more songs. The Park has two gates. Ashish stopped in his final round and went out from the other gate. He wanted to visit another park. Park# 2, fondly called Jhule wala Park (The park with swings) was very special to Ashish and his other neighbourhood friends. He remembered the times he used to come here and enjoy the swings. How the Slide was always empty and a particular swing had waiting. The Sun wasn't a bother then. He made a couple of friends here, most of them obviously could STILL recognize each other, but would do that only in their minds. Public recognition would mean embarrassment if the other dude did not recognise you.

So Ashish stood in front of the gate. And stared. It hadn't changed much. And then.....A dog barked. He was sitting inside the park. Ashish realised that maybe this dog is guarding this place and he should go. So Ashish turned around and went away. But then the dog came out barking at top of his lungs. And then another dog came and another and another. Ashish felt scared. Ashish felt worried. Ashish felt kink-kartevya-vimod. So Ashish stood still but when the barking started again, he did the natural dog barking thing to do. He ran. And the dogs started running too. But then Ashish ran faster and faster and he became fastest. The dogs were left long behind but Ashish kept running until he came to a safe spot sans dogs, and finally relaxed. Wretched Bitches. Oh, the iPod was still on, the song being How to save a life---The Fray.

On his way home, he heard a lot of dog barks even with his earphones on. But none scared him. He was just okay. He went home, had his dinner and slept. And he learnt a lotta new things which he wrote in his Dear Diary. (how gay!)

Here is the list ::

1. Leave the past behind. It will bring smiles to your face, but it is capable of getting you Bitch Bites too. So STAY AWAY. Forget what has happened and enjoy the present. Some memories are best forgotten.

2. Stay away from parks which you are not sure of, especially in the dark.

3. There is a song for every feeling, every moment, every memory, every emotion and also every Piece of writing.

4. If you are surrounded by dogs, DO NOT run. Take out the gun and shoot the bloody Canines.

And Lastly....

5. Four Fs

Forgive : It's not worth it. Small life, smaller enemies.
Forget : Bad Memories, Bad things, Bad Times
Feel : Every moment in life, its not going to come back.
Fuck : The world, the Dogs and anything that causes you tiny winy trouble.

The song for the Diary Entry : Que Sera Sera, Whatever will be will be.

Dedicated to No One.

PS:
M&M is so over. No more posts on that. Sorry.
Suggest a title in comment. The winner title gets to be the title of this story on this blog. Exciting! LOL

And he did it.

2009-06-07T21:39:00.035+05:30

He did not do it against Nadal, but he did it anyways.

Roland Garros Finals:

Roger Federer def Robin Soderling

6-1 , 7-6 , 6-4

I am too small to say congratulations to the greatest player of our times, but I am so infinitely happy. Roger got his 14 Grand Slams, also won his First French open, and also became the 6th Tennis player in the world to win all four Grand Slams. Never has any sports personality been so close to my heart. I guess with today, on the 7th of June, Federer made it to my "Get their Poster" list.

Earlier this year at the Australian Open, Fedy lost and he cried. The wretched five hour long match against Nadal is one I'll never forget. It crushed me too. To see Roger's helplessness and exhaustion to win felt like slow poison, one that kills all faith and effort. His every shot expressed his desperation to win.

The French Finale was a total contrast to it's ugly cousin. Every spectator, there at The Roland Garros or anywhere in the world, wanted Federer to win. All of us were with him in his battle to be the best ever, and I guess that helped somehow. Today, was a revolutionary match and Soderling must be hugely proud to be part of it.

Continuing that, Robin showed great courage and enthusiasm. He played his best this French season. He defeated World Number 1 and was up against World number 2 and played with utmost spirit of sportsmanship. The second set he made Roger feel that this championship wasn't so easy to get. But when the championship point came, I believe Robin let it go and I guess anyone would have. Robin couldn't have had the strength to take this away from Federer, especially when Federer was playing his best.

The hero of the entire pulsating Final was surely Roger, but in Robin I see the determination and humility to be what Roger is today.

Andre Aggasi presented the trophy to Roger Federer---The meeting of the legends. Roger is soon going to be a Dad, and if its a boy, I have a gut feeling he'll name him Andre. If its a girl, well Andreyana, could be a variant. :)

The French Open 2009, was magical. It was like a happily ever after. I guess I am going to smile all through next week, or whenever I read this, because this will transport back to today when the champion conquered his dream.

Closer home, Kudos to Leander Paes, for getting his Men's Doubles. It always feels nice when your nation wins, but more so when your hero does. :)

As inevitably, One Tree Hill comes in every post of mine, the finale line of Season6 said-----

And believe that dreams come true everyday.....Because they do.

Roger's dream stands fulfilled. Maybe yours will too. Maybe everyone of our dreams will come true. Just Dream and believe. Thank You Roger, for all the happiness you've given us. Thank You^1/0.

Dedication : Roger and Robin.

Song : No song can measure the happiness that I experienced at the moment of the Championship Point. Yet, the Acoustic version of Lovers In Japan, by Coldplay. :)

Aao Baat Cheet Kare...

2009-06-01T13:00:00.000+05:30

This is an Interim Post in which I'll be updating everyone on what's on my mind and how sucky life has been. I am gonna call such posts BaatCheet (Hindi for Talking Casually). A Nursery book of mine was called the same, in which our teachers used to write in stuff they'd like to communicate to our parents. But this one is just going to be about ME. :P

Post's Agenda :

1. CBSE : I passed with fairly decent marks. Though they doubt my English, I don't care, I have 3-digit and not everyone does. Even St. Stephen's form doesn't have three boxes to fill my Math Score. Hehe. Arrogant me.

2. St Stephen's : They are not pricey. They are not elitists. They are just too choosy. No Delhi University form asks you to write a Statement of Purpose, but St. Stephen's has to ask one. They will even see your 10th grade score. They will also interview you. And then they'll take just 25 Non-Christian "Brilliant" Students for a Degree in Economics. So the best college will make sure they get the best. Kya yaar......I just hope I make it.

3. M & M : Since most of you have already found out, the post is fairly Real. Jo Bhi, I met her the other day and I had a strange feeling. I for the first time doubted that I liked her at a particular period of time. I mean I still do like her, but its just that----Really Her? Really?!!?!?!?!

4. Torrents : YES! I finally learnt how to use torrents. Thanks to Nishit. And I just downloaded the remaining of Season 6. I agree with all OTH fans, the season finale was more like a series finale :) . Love OTH beyond measure. And thankfully this summer I am sure to get the posters of Tree Hill and Coldplay. Oh next Point.

5. Coldplay : Downloaded almost all their Discography. Yipee!!!!

6. IMS Mock : I am tired of giving tests. Given about 8 of 'em and there are many waiting to be done. Exam this Sunday. Ohh and yeh my result for the centralised mock came out to be Minus 13. Which is not at all possible coz I didn't attempt that much. Screwed up IMS OMR Machine. ;)

7. Virus : Talk about jobless people trying to harrass innocent ones. This Media Control Virus converted all my media files to JPG. The trouble I had to go through to turn them all back and get rid of the virus. And there was one on Facebook too-- the .at ones. Thankfully I was spared there. But beware, hacking into others facebook profiles and random commenting is the new thing.

8. Comments : This is a boring post. Feel free not to comment. :)

I hope the coming week brings clarity to the confused state I am in. June is a tough month. The Heat, The Cut-Offs, The Tests, The Lathargy and lastly The Endless Yawning. Kya Museebat hain.... :(

M & M

2009-05-27T00:27:00.008+05:30

Dedication : The intelligent only needs a signal.

Song: Aap Jaisa Koi from the movie Qurbani.

"Oh Crap I am late like always. Damn! Damn! Damn! 5 minutes is understandable, but 15 minute kaun late hota hain?" thought Mayur.

He was climbing the stairs two at a time. His main concern wasn't that he had missed a part of the lesson, but the fact that he'll get one of the back seats. Back seats are bad. They directly face the air conditioner and you have to bear the brunt of the chilly winds of Alaska. Also, you can't see anything, leave aside hearing. And our dear protagonist was without his spectacles so imagine his plight.

Mayur enters. Ok this not a play. He looked straight down the aisle. The last three rows were empty. Well, something better than last. Mayur placed himself in the third last row. Oh, the teacher hadn't come as yet, so it wasn't that bad after all.

And then she entered. She was beautiful, she had everything and more(1). She too looked straight down the aisle and placed herself on the second seat of the third last row. Simply put for the slow ones, she sat next to him. She is Mayitree. And she isn't all that intellectual as the name sounds.

They exchanged the basic questions of meetings. And then they waited, for a new topic in the conversation and for the wretched teacher to come. Finally Mahesh came to class. Slightly gay and very intelligent, this teacher was the best this place had.

"Good Morning, Every-buddy. How is your prep going?"

----No Answer-----

"Today we'll do square roots and squares. " And then he started scribbling on the board explaining some Vedic Concept.

Not everyone can grasp something as quickly as someone else. Mayur understood the method perfectly, but if you were to make him stand in a football field and explain him the ways of football, he'd probably faint. Mayitree on the other hand, was a little confused, but then again, if you were to ask her fashion trends and TV show time slots, you'd probably give up your questions and become her disciple.

And then entered Mayank and his cronies, a total half an hour late. Mahesh said something to him, and then he took the third seat in the third row. The row was now filled.

"Chailye dekhte hain kaun hain sabse zyada teez. 10 questions, 15 mins." And Mahesh wrote 'em on the whiteboard and went away probably to do finish some official work.

11 minutes and Mayur had finished all the questions, hopefully correctly. No matter how much brain this guy had, he was modest and not the bragging kinds. Grooming sometimes makes all the difference. But that does not mean that there aren't people who feel that if they have done what they ought to do, they must tell the world, by hook or by crook. And that was the case with Mayank.

"How did you do this question?" asked a polite Mayitree from a more than happy Mayur. Finally they were talking again. And Mayur did explain to the best of his abilities. Rest whether it was understood or not, remains a mystery. Mayank though was trying to interfere and explain, that was less appreciated by both of 'em.

Mahesh came in again. Gave the answers mentally, as if he were the king of mental math. And then challenged the students. A challenge Mayur was more than ready to accept. "Let's see how many of you can name 13 of Shakespeare's Plays."

And he wrote with great spirit and surety. Shakespeare was on his tips. He knew every deal of the Bard. Unfortunately he could only manage 12, and lost.

And then popped another question from Ms. Pretty," How do you know all this?", and he smiled and wrote down what you see in your Address Bar.

"I write stuff." he said.

"Ohh...I'll see it sometime."

That my friends made him smile.

And if you haven't already guessed, Mayank likes her too. And he is making faces right now. ;)

Class got over soon. Mayur was happier than ever. He finally got to sit, talk and exchange a few words with someone he liked. He reached home, smiling ear to ear.

And like all teenage addicts, checked his facebook before the newspaper.

1 Friend Request

Mayitree Mehra

There are somethings in life, Money can't buy. For just this one thing, there is Facebook. :D

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

PS: (1) Lyrics from a song by Ashley Simpson

Image : http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2015/1562355428_15f7b4cd66.jpg

And Thank You Gautam for bearing with the typing. :)

Also. Please read and tell me whether I should post a continuation or end it here only. And NO MATTER how real this sounds, it isn't.
IS NOT REAL.

Oh I forgot.

2009-05-16T22:49:00.012+05:30

Yes I know, I should be writing a story / work of fiction, but let's just say someone else is doing a better job. Ok , this week has been awesomely nice....Here's an account ( Not in chronological order, but in order of thoughts)

Coldplay Album. There is no artist in the world that I love more than you guys. Coldplay launched a new album/collection of songs on 15th May, which was free to download for all it's fans. And the songs are all live concert recordings, so if you listen to 'em on full volume, the kind of feeling you get, oh my good--it's heaven. It's like you are there cheering and the fact that you are a part of the whole thing makes it so orgasmic. God I love them. And they also made a Recession busting and Fan thanking move by deciding to give each one of the audience at their concerts a free CD of these songs. Kya yaar, inse better koi hoo sakta hain. Oh...The album is called Left right left right left. Download it from here---- http://lrlrl.coldplay.com/leftright.html And if you REALLY wish to get the feel of it. Listen to Viva La Vida full volume. I couldn't feel my heart after the first time. Below: Album cover

KT : Today, I went to The Attic, to hear out Mr. Kishore Thukral on his true calling, The Spiti Valley. The pictures were so beautiful and it seemed like he knew everything. Each stone, each lake and each feeling of Spiti was in his heart. How I know KT is different, but the fact that I heard out an author so intelligent, so wise and so inspiring for the third time, it's fantastic. But there is a more important thing that I learnt. I won't be writing the book most of you came to know about. Listening to KT made me realise, that there is so much I can explore, look, feel and be, I don't want a book right now. I have the feelings fresh in me, but I don't want to translate them. I want to read Shaky Dude, I want to Travel, I want St. Stephen's. Pata nahi. :|
Oh, for all that it's worth, I saw the Devil today, and yes I do HATE her. Below: Spiti

Red shorts: My Mom did not like them, which means that her generation doesn't like them, which implies that I did the right "fashion" thing. ^_^ They are in, and I like them. Deal with it. Below: A glimpse for those who wouldn't ever see me wearing 'em.

Connaught Place : God. I had gone to meet ONE of my friends and I ended up meeting the entire clan. First I met Vasudha, then Garima, then Abhinav and Anu. I also saw Rajesh Mishra, Director IMS. I mean Ek teer aur itne saare nishaane. LOL. :) . I even showed Vasudha the terrace of one of CP's buildings, though it was less appreciated. Below: CP. Duh.

There might have been much happier and better things, but i just don't remember 'em. Next week Gautam is going to come, which is nice. My result is going to come, which could be nice. And I have to study, which is definitely not nice.

Oh I forgot.
Dedication : To KT.
Song : Viva La Vida by Coldplay. LRLRL Version. :)

Changes and Thank You-s

2009-05-09T23:45:00.009+05:30

Today is an important day in the history of this Blog. We have changed the title, the template, the widgets and all the change is definitely for the BETTER. I hope you like it. My writing might also change and you might notice a tinge of young-ness.

This wouldn't have been possible without :

1. Blogger templates: Thank you for the jeans.

2. Facebook: For helping me rest for a while.

3. Pari: For having seen it for the first time.

4. Arsheen: For having loved it so much.

5. Gautam: For his idea to change my picture.

6. Ahana: For finally seeing it.

7. Aakriti: For having loved the template and promised not to follow.

8. Vasudha: For being a keen reader throughout.

9. SS and other readers: For always telling me when the post was weird or nice.

10. Digveer: For have planted the idea in the first place.

11. Aditi: For have improved my writing.

12. Coldplay: For making awesome songs which I listen to when I write. Sorry your widget had to go.

13. (My best Number) EK: For making me realize that sometimes you have to change or stay away because other people are too dumb to do the same.

Thanks Everyone. Thanks. I hope you like it.

Oh since I forgot earlier, One Tree Hill. You changed everything. Thanks.

A Dummies Guide to Social Conventions

2009-05-05T20:31:00.016+05:30

Everyone needs a guide. Everyone needs help to deal with life. Everyone faces some sick sorry social situation sometime or the other. One of my friends asked me to list down some social norms long time ago, but lethargic me is doing it now. Better late than never ;)

Dedication: To those who always screw up and end up thinking, "I'm such a bitch!"

Song: Help Is Just Around The Corner by Coldplay.

1. Most of us ask for advice from people we know, some of us just use the Internet. When asking for advice, quietly listen to the speaker. It's never nice to ask for advice and then start arguing with adviser that they are wrong. एक तोह वो तुम परएहसान कर रहा हैं, ऊपर से तुम उसे लड़ने लगजाओ| वाह बही वाह !

2. Never ever waste your energies on someone who you know is not ready to listen. You can shout, you can yell but some people think they are king of the world and will NOT listen, not now, not ever. I know it pisses you off especially when they're wrong, but I guess people are people.

3. Some people talk a LOT especially when you have called. They will talk, talk and keep on talking come what may, sometimes even when they have called. Since you can't tape / zip their mouth, the best way is, you start speaking about stuff that you know. For Example: When Ahana starts talking about science stuff I don't understand or when I start sermon-ing her, I'm sure both of us feel like slamming the phone, though she can't-She has a cordless. Not that we talk a lot, just that why watch a foreign film with no subtitles.

4. If some one does something for you, Thank them a million times. Even if they haven't crossed a river or jumped from the Empire State Building, have a heart and give them a chocolate. It's always feels good to make someone smile and have your way too.

5. People are weird. A bunch of 'em can piss you off just like that. I mean for no immediate fault of theirs, you just hate them from the corner of your heart and a slightest mistake of theirs would make your mouth utter beautiful words like slut, son of bitch, the F*** word. etc etc. It's best that you STAY AWAY from them. STAY AWAY.

6. Continuing Point 5, Sometimes we like people. We think that no matter what the odds are, they might have some brain and they would be not as the world pictures them to be. Truth is--OUR hopes are wrong. Men are jerks and women are slow. So if you are hurt, then the best way is to STAY AWAY from these people too.

7. How to STAY AWAY:

* De-friend them on facebook, orkut and other places where you waste time. Nothing more pleasing. TRUST ME.
* Delete them from your phone book.
* Inspired from Jab We Met--Call them, Abuse Them.
* Tell your friends about your friend and insist that they should always insult / make fun of your special someone always when you are around.
* Listen to Hope it gives you hell by The All American Rejects.
* A little filmy, but if you can punch them in the face.

8. There are moments when you can't say anything or your brain is too slow to process an answer. In such cases just Nod. At least the other person gets some assurance. Like some one said, better keep quiet and be a fool, than open your mouth and confirm the doubt.

9. Sometimes there is a stalemate like situation in our lives. Neither of the two people would accept their mistake. In that case, Just say sorry and finish the crappy bottleneck in your life. Saying it won't kill you. It might hurt your ego, but trust me neither is anyone measuring your ego on a daily basis nor is there a record of the number of times you have said Sorry. So just say it and end It.

10. Everyone has problems. Everyone has miseries. Don't talk about them and make the world an even more remorse place. Just laugh and if you can't, buy a joke book. And yeah, if you have issues with this blogger / blog, that we are too casual about life, then--I don't care.

11. MOST IMPORTANT: Always listen to the Blogger who has poor decision making powers, who is too scared to start his magnum opus, who has awesome music taste, who won't ever read Twilight and yes, of course, who satisfies ALL of those conditions. If there exists more than one such person.....then choose the one who you know. ( DUH---ME)

Like it or not, This is True. All true.

Conspiracy Theory

2009-04-28T00:40:00.006+05:30

Imagine for a second if everything started to make sense. If there were answers to all your questions. If everything in this Universe was perfectly placed and every story had a reason to it, a planned idea for execution. Ok, this beginning to sound like the back cover of a book, so I'll get straight to the point. Here is a fun filled list (hopefully) on a bunch of stuff which might have secret conspiracies running behind them. I mean you just never know.

Dedication : To my Brooke Davis. I hope you have as crazy a mind as mine.

Song: Since this is a CRAZY post, here's a CRAZY song. Smelly Cat by Phoebe Buffay. LOL

1. Delhi Jal Board: If you're driving on the Delhi roads then you are bound to bump into huge banners that block the road reading Delhi Jal Board--Work In Progress. I mean spare some roads. What I've heard is that they're putting in some new pipes and taking out the old ones, but I truly believe that they've found the treasure map to the Pandva Treasury and all the digging is to strike gold. They were corrupt, but now they are treasure hunters.

2. Facebook: Internal Conspiracy between Ahana and me.

3. Recession: War and Peace are old troubles. I mean how much more blood, hunger and all the ugly stuff. Everyone's seen it. Wars are a thing of the past. Economic Harassment is the new thing. No Blood, lesser deaths and even more trouble for economists and scholars. Just a bunch of pink slips, salary cuts and lesser enjoyment. I also feel that the US is doing it purposely to reaffirm it's position as number one. Uncle Sam gets hurt, the world cries.

4. The Bollywood Strike: For those who don't know, apparently no more Bollywood movies will release on multiplexes till the time the producers and the multiplex owners call it truce. The truth really is, Bollywood is out of ideas to make any new films and with increasing copyright issues, no Holly remakes. Multiplexes on the other hand think they earn too less from their overpriced food. Either way, Pirated DVD marketing is going smooth sailing as always.

5. Destiny, Love and God: You can't always blame yourself for the misery in your life. I mean why do you think these ideas were created in the first places. It's written and all that. Oh by the way, I don't question the belief of God. I worship Krishna. But sometimes it's always their fault.

6. Shoe Throwing: It apparently is in fashion. Started off with Bush, it has become quite a rage in India. I mean every second day some poor politician gets a Rebook or Nike. I think they're paid to throw, logically why else would some one care. It's a publicity stunt. The Politicians are pulling a Rakhi Sawant.

7. Harry Potter: Rowling is a witch. She tried to spill the beans and got banished from the Magic World. Now she is taking revenge by publishing all these books. She is a powerful one, so no memory charms work on her. Sad, no one understood her but me.

That's enough I think. My brain can't think any more answers.

There is a Tide in the Affairs of Men.

2009-04-23T01:10:00.006+05:30

To William Shakespeare. Happy Birthday. I don't know if it's today or it's three days later but all I know is that this blog is named after you and this post is dedicated to you; if not on your birthday, then on your death anniversary. Born and died on the same day, Cool eh? So either way I am right and I love this quote of yours. So here I am explaining your wonderful lines to the world and dedicating them to you. To Shakes.

There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

Ok. These lines are from the play Julius Caesar. Brutus says the lines before the war, as he goes on to talk about Opportunity and Chance. The explaination might just get repetitive and on your nerves.

The Tide in the first line refers to the Chance we receive in our lives, in our affairs of love, work, family and in all that we do. Like the ships at the port wait for the tide to be right so that they can continue their adventures of the boundless sea; similarly there await many tides in our lives which promise us much more than what we can imagine or dream of.

And if traveled during the right tide, we gain the immense fortune of learning so much; grabbing the right opportunity also gives us the possibility of earning the fortune of experience. We don't know what these many possibilities hold for us, but it is only after we try them that we know. Opportunity indeed only comes once.

The only difference between tide and opportunity probably is that, tide comes again and again but opportunity might never ever return. Thus, if omitted ever in life, one is bound to suffer. To miss a target is ok, but to never have explored the possibility of archery, especially if it was on your journey, is nothing but a fool's act. You might always wonder where that tide might have taken us.

Shaky goes on to say that our lives are full of such opportunities that can change us forever. Whether it's a chance to say sorry or a moment of realisation or anything else. Don't think too much. The weather is good, the tide is good, just start your voyage. Like the ships take the current when it's good for 'em, so must we use the varied paths in our lives.

What we plan and what we want is only a manifestation of our mind. That can only be brought to reality when we work towards it and we find the right chances on our way. I don't know about destiny or luck or if you really really want something everything else will fall in place; but if you have something in your way that you think you really want, then grab it for that can only truly fulfill thy venture. And if we lose it, then we lose it forever.

On a lighter note...

There is a tide in the affairs of men. Sometime back came my tide and I started to blog. Then the Internship with Viewspaper. Then a few followers, though I am often tempted to post on Facebook for more readership. And a lot more came....Today I am happy with my blog, with whatever it is. Thanks to the tide that came my way. To get your tide just don't call God but look around. Our website is www.help-my-brain-that-cant-find-opportunities.com. Order now! Grab now! Toll Free!

Thanks Shakespeare. Thanks Readers. Thanks.

These Three Words (3)

2009-04-17T22:16:00.007+05:30

Ok. This is the third and final part of the poem. The word here is Rejection. The post is dedicated to the never say die spirit of people. The song for the post would be Lost by Coldplay and The Winner takes it all by ABBA. I couldn't reject either of the two. :)

These Three Words (3)

In any race--big or small,
The winner takes it all;[1]
And such is the misery of any contest,
There are many silvers but only One Best.

When you lose, you die,
When you win, you fly;
Rejection is said to help improve,
But it cuts you out and makes you aloof.

To fall and to get up again,
To miss the title and continue to train,
Are attributes of great learners and warriors,
But I am sorry, we are only mortals.

The heart is a strange thing,
Breaks down, cries and never deals with failing;
Pushes you into the corner—sad and remorse,
The pain of failure never coming to a close.

The answers of departure and loss,
Is that which we always look for;
The world doesn’t have it and neither your friends,
What is done can never be put to mend.

And finally the election of king came to a close,
And to the winner, we all did toast;
But for the last time, look into yourselves,
Did you ever go through this, because if not, then we are all strange elves.

[1] Song by Abba The winner takes it all

These Three Words ( 2 )

2009-04-08T21:43:00.012+05:30

Ok. This is one is Part 2. The following part is dedicated to all who can put up brave face. The song for the part would be, Be yourself by AudioSlave. The last one was better.

Such was the rush to be king,
That all of them forgot their loose flings;
And immersed themselves in this muck,
Saying proudly, “I am what you need, the others suck.”

Pretense, Hidden motives and expressions,
Were being deciphered to reveal any deception;
But everyone was equally smart in this game,
For none let out their secret, even till their grave.

Known Faces, Likable masks and Ignored lies,
Pre-Election arrangements and ties,
They did everything to deceive,
And win the vote by hook or by fees.

But if the God among men wasn’t at their bay,
There was nothing to worry or fray;
For the look of defeat is so famous,
And the power of opposition is strong, the hand or the lotus.

The masses had expressions of calmness and dumbness,
But underneath bubbled a strategy fungus;
To vote for whom or to let this one pass,
Their thoughts and desires certainly not moving en masse.

And such is the power of Pretense,
Hides your cruel intentions, leaves scope for speculation and creates menace;
In our country so close?
What is so different, my folks?

These Three Words ( I )

2009-03-31T23:25:00.014+05:30

The following is a three part poem, each having a distinct word attached to it which you'll find very easily.

The poem is dedicated to the one who gave me inspiration for it. The song for the post would be Rest in Pieces by Saliva.

These Three Words ( I )

In a land far far away,
Lived a family, very rich but not gay;
For there was a fight to be the next king,
And by democracy it was to be one amongst the kin.

Election fever was spread throughout the state,
And all siblings campaigned to alter their fate;
All the candidates looked very handsome in their coats.
And this confused the people about their vote,

Perception, Intuition, Suspicion and Sensing,
Were in the minds of one and all;
Of weird types, forms, and very different meanings,
To know the future, is indeed a great feeling.

The people, so wise and aware,
Predicted their winner and enjoyed the political affair;
The gambler, the bookies, so greedy and hungry,
Betted blindly on their choice, hoping to earn more than a penny.

The candidates, crude and desperate for throne seating,
Formulated their plans for winning and later governing;
The police, Oh! So vigilant and careful,
Had their own threat perceptions on the lives of these mortals.

And such is the power of assumption,
Solves Accounts, Creates Gossip and Breaks Relations;
In our land so close and near,
What is so different, my dear?

Yet Another one of Rohan Ki Kahaniya....

2009-03-24T16:38:00.008+05:30

Marginal Propensity to Consume is the slope of the Consumption Function. Differentiate it and you will get what you want. And the Consumption curve is a straight line. Hence the slope is same at all points. MPC is constant. The Multiplier’s proof lies in the sum of infinite terms of a Geometric Progression. The 45 degree line is significant in equilibrium determination. It all indeed connects. All of it has meaning. All of it has sense. There is Logic. It’s beautiful. It’s orgasmic.

Economics was always my favourite. Finding the best way out is what I’ll define it as. Closely intervened with Mathematics, Sociology, Consumer and Producer Psychology, Geography and all of that. Closely intervened with our lives, our money, our country and our identities. I love it. I love it beyond measure.

But parts of Economics make me sick. One of them is Money and Banking. And in my endevour to learn the many types of deposits and the evolution of money and the drawbacks of barter system, I did something great. Something I am proud of. I fell asleep.

And it was then that the following questions came to my mind, which I try and answer myself. This is not conversations with God. This is not Me against Me. This is just the result of economic stress. And sometimes stress produces something beautiful. And maybe this is beautiful. Just to make this un-weird, there is a setup. A different environment. Here Goes:

The following piece is dedicated to everyone who is trying to make sense out of their lives. The song for the post would be Life in Technicolor II by Coldplay.

Once upon a time there was a good boy called Chester. He was in a weird place and this story is about him.

“God, it’s a dark alley,” said Chester to himself.

He walked on. There were no holes, so he didn’t fall into a pit or something. He didn’t bump into a wall or someone else. It was a dark, straight, flat and empty alley. After a while Chester realized that this alley might never end. This scared him.

And then out of the blue, more like black, a bulb hung in front of him. Due to the new found light, Chester saw the writing on the wall. He instantly recognized it.

“As above, so below; As within, so without.”

“The Emerald Tablet. I read it in the Alchemist,” he said that to himself.

And then almost magically, the wall spilt open. Seeing the new wonder, Chester entered. Chester started to look around. He didn’t find anything great to look at. However inside there was a piano. He always wanted to play the piano. It looked so classy, so wonderful, so English and oh so hot.

And then almost suddenly the piano began to play. Chester recognized the music instantly. Death will never conquer by Coldplay. entered.

He turned around and was shocked to death. There it was Chris Martin, the Coldplay’s lead singer playing the piano.

“Oh My God. It’s you!” he almost yelled.

“Shshshsh…” hushed Chris and continued playing.

Coldplay was his favourite band. They made such beautiful music. Chris finished playing. He then looked up at Chester.

“So dude, how’re you?” he asked.

“I am good. Where are we?”

“Doesn’t matter. I am here because you have answers to find.”

“And you will help me?”

“Yes.”

“How freaking cool is that.”

Chris smiled.

“So what has been bothering you so much?” he asked Chester.

“Fear. Fear of all sorts. Fear of losing. Fear of driving. Fear of not being what I want to be,” Chester explained.

“All you have to fear is fear itself,” replied Chris.

“What are you William Douglas?” mocked Chester.

“Not really. But fear helps you grow. It helps you. I feared many things. I still do. I fear I might give you wrong advice. And it is in fear that you are extra cautious and hence you do your best. Simple logic.”

“But fear makes me scared. Scared that I will mess it all up. A sick feeling that makes me give up. Fear kills my spirit of trying, my faith in the world,” explained Chester.

“Don’t worry so much. You’re young, commit your mistakes.”

“What if I lose? Failure isn’t all that of a great feeling,” moaned Chester.

“Just because I am loosing, doesn’t mean I am lost. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop, “sang Chris.

“Now the answers to my questions lie in your songs. I like Lost+ more than Lost, you know. Can I call you Chris?”

“Sure you can. There are answers everywhere. All you need to do is look.”

“That makes you sound Gay, you know.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You’re still not clean in the head.”

“Yes, Mind reader. I am very confused. I mean why trouble troubles me always. Why ME? Why not you?”

“Trouble will come. Trouble will go. But you’ll go on forever,” said Marty almost laughing.

“What? That’s a direct lift from a poem. God. I thought this was going to be cool. Why can’t we run away from everything? Just escape.”

“Kill yourself. Hide yourself. No one stops you. No one will mourn you for forever.”

“So Chris Martin, Coldplay member is officially an advocate of Suicide.”

“No. I believe that if there is an easy and legal way of doing something you do it that way. Suicide I think is illegal. All I mean is, if there is something that causes you pain, misery, unhappiness, then cut it off. It maybe your dream, your hope, your friend or your mind. Just cut it off. End it. Finish it. There is nothing that can cause you trouble. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. That’s what Eleanor said.”

“The Sermon-ator does make sense.”

“Listen buddy. Life is crap. It hurts. Everybody hurts. We are nothing but another brick in the wall of the world. But some bricks have the establishment on them. Be that one. You can and you will. Just don’t fear.”

“When will I die?” asked Chester.

“Take a Facebook quiz. Go to Death Clock. I don’t know. I am not Yamraj[1]. Just before you die, don’t cultivate regrets. Whatever you did in your life, were a product of your decisions and your actions. Be proud of it.”

“I am impressed, you know Hindu Deities. Regret. It kills. Do you really think that what we want to do, we ought to do?”

“I think that is the only thing you should do. As I said before, as long as it’s easy and legal.”

“Right. I really love your music. Thanks for it.”

“Thanks for listening to it.”

“Do you pity me?”

“I pity those who don’t live to the fullest.”

“Is this a dream? You sound Dumbeldore-ish.”

“That, that is, is.”

“Shakespeare, finally. I love him too.”

Chris smiled. “Anything else Chester?”

“Sing a song for me?”

“Not now. Buy a CD. Ares eats my money,” joked Chris.

“Ok. Will do,” smiled Chester.

“So I hope I never meet you again?” asked Chris.

“I hope I do. My best friend is such an ass. Good for nothing. Keeps on blabbering something like ‘as you wish’.”

“Ahh…Need to be Dumbeldore for her too eh?”

“Naa…I think she’ll need some one like John Nash.”

“Whokay. But I am your Godfather.”

“Well, if I had a middle name, it would be Chris. Chester Chris Chawla. And if I need a Best Man, I’ll call you. What a starry wedding that would be.”

“Right. Definitely. And the forces of nature tell me, you’ll all do fabulous. You’ll all leave your mark. Just hold on. And always believe.”

“Ok. TOO much SERMON. See you on You Tube.”

And then he disappeared. It was almost like a fairy tale. He had learned so much. It felt like a better world altogether. It was so amazing. So beautiful. So magical. And oh so Cool.

Chester also found his way out of the alley into the daylight of the new world. He then went to his posh school. And there he met his classmate. They had many things in common. Many things different. But there was one thing he always wanted to tell him and he gathered courage and went ahead.

“Chester,” said Chester to his classmate.

“Yup, dude,” replied the classmate.

“I always wanted to say these three words to you. They mean a lot to me. I have buried my feelings in me for too long and I must express them now, for I want to cultivate no regrets. I know you don’t feel the same way as I do, but I must pour my heart out to you. The three magic words, that might alter everything, Chal Be Bhangi![2]”

And like Cinderella he ran away. He was super joyous. He was elated and he ran and ran and ran. And then they became sworn enemies. And Chester kept meeting Chris. And all was well. And like every fairy tale, everyone lived happily ever after, even The Bhangi, ;)

The End

[1] Hindu deity of Death.

[2] Bhangi is an Indian Caste, often referred to as untouchables. However, in daily language, a Bhangi is one who’s ill mannered and can be associated with the English counterpart of loser or bugger.

The Writer's Den

2009-03-13T19:00:00.010+05:30

I wrote the following piece for my internship at The Viewspaper. I don't know why I am publishing it, but I just like it. Hope you do too. And the names have chnaged from what they were kept originally for the "Greater Good." Here goes:

The Writer’s Den

He saw her. He was new in school but knew her from a long time. She had a captivating beauty, endless charm and an unusual power of attraction. He was on a mission. He had to protect her.

“And yes, I should work for Farhan Khan, because this sounds like the script of Main Hoon Na. Crap I will never be able to write this story,” said Dev to himself.

He had been working on it for days. It had been a week since he had received this assignment as a part of the internship program he was a part of. He tried every night before sleeping, but would end up with something he had already heard or seen before. Every question of originality reminded him of the article he had once read. With every failure, he used to wonder why he joined this internship. It was meant for writers, but it always asked him to write articles that filled the empty space on their website. Weird, but as they say, beggars can’t be choosers. He didn’t know if he wanted to be a writer and maybe this could help.

He re-read what he had written. He wasn’t satisfied. There had to be something much better, more dazzling and more exquisite. He put his head down and stayed like that. He didn’t think, just laid there. Being a writer is difficult. Being a politician is difficult. Being anything you want is difficult.

He woke up. He had received an IM. It was from his best friend.

“Hey, you done with the story? I really want to read it,” said the IM by Aditi. A girl and a boy can be best friends. The only condition is, they should know when they are about to fall in love. Aditi was not only his best friend, but also his editor for the internship. She did both jobs well. She was a good critic and a great help. But he wanted more. He wanted an idea. A story.

He ignored the IM, so that he could ignore the pity that would come from the other end. He began typing again.

The world is flat. The world is crowded. And the world is now hot. Three adjectives that Friedman’s new book gives the world. But what was the world all about? What are we all about? What is the “point”“ of the world?”

“And yes, I should work with Paulo Coelho, because this sounds like a sermon. Crap I will never be able to write this story,” said Dev to himself, yet again.

He looked outside the window, trying to find some inspiration. He failed. Inspiration didn’t come with the darkness of the night or the twinkling of the stars, or for that matter, by just looking for it. It flows into the mind, like a river flows from the mountains to the plains, just naturally. It plays with the mind, like the river does along its course. And it spills its wonder when transcended from the mind onto paper, like a river, when it descends to form a waterfall. He longed for that moment.

Dev got up and stretched himself. He was determined to write this today. It was either now or never. Everyone in his house were asleep. Everything was quiet. All that played in the background was the new album of Coldplay, Viva La Vida. It was indeed “A long and dark December”. How did they get the inspiration to write such great songs? It’s difficult to be in a band, he thought. But being in his shoes was not easy either.

Aditi was always there for him. When he was gloomy and wanted a hug, when he was happy and wanted to give a hug, and when he was mood-less and just wanted to talk. She was fantastic. He could write a Sonnet for her; a Haiku praising her, or a limerick about their fun times, but the story just didn’t come.

I could be a poet, not necessarily a writer, he thought to himself. He saw Shakespeare’s Portrait in a photo frame that Aditi had gifted him. He felt small in front of him. Bard was a great man; Dev wanted to be greater. He wished that what he wrote would fly all across the world and bring the desired effect on everyone. He wanted his works to be the chariot of change, which would transform the world into Sion.

He wished he could say all this to someone. But who?

“Readers don’t like such stuff, but I don’t like what readers like,” he said to himself. If it was all so easy.

He remembered the time when his first story was published, when he received the first comment on his blog, when he kissed for the first time, and many other first times that brought an ear to ear smile on his face. But he had that memory very carefully placed in his memory; the time when he was happiest. The time when glory came after defeat, when he was victorious, when his savior had come. It was long back.

2nd grade: Post Office Assignment.

Every student was supposed to bring an inland letter, a post card and other post office crap to stick in a file. Dev did not bring anything. He had told his mother a night before, and it was fairly impossible to arrange for it. He kept sitting there, jobless, hoping someone would lend him an extra, if they had one.

Then came a knock on the door. It was his mother. She had everything he needed to stick in the shady file. Even an extra post card and 4 big, good quality drawing sheets, to speak in a 2nd grader’s language. He was happy. He was on cloud nine. He was elated. It was a rare moment. It was this memory that always gave him hope. Hope that his savior was around, that he would come out of all this and that he would deal with it, come what may.

And like the knock on the door, came another IM from Aditi. She knew him too well. His not replying, his mood; everything.

“Write about how you feel right now. Write about what you are thinking. Write your perspective of things. I am sure it’ll be different.”

And that clicked. He could write it. It was easy. And he began.

And that’s how all this began.

Before this story ends, one more time.

“And yes, I should work as a writer, because this sounds like a writer’s work. Crap! I will never be able to write a good story.”

Take a Chance on Me

2009-03-08T14:34:00.008+05:30

The Me and Mine lady did this to me. And here I am doing this again. (Like Facebook wasn’t already filled with narcissistic notes already)

Rules :
1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOu must write that song name down, no matter how
4. Tag n no. of friends.
5. Everyone tagged has to do the same thing.

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
-I can’t take my eyes of you (HSM)—wow

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
-Hard to say I am sorry (Chicago)—After the Bhangi thing totally.

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
-Your Crowning glory (Princess Diaries) ---How did that come in my all song playlist?

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
-World, Hold On(Bob Sinclair)---This happened last time too. Freaky.

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
-Dil se re (Dil Se---duh)-Atleast it’s Rahman.

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
-Ishq Bina (Taal) rahman again. Whats with him and my life intervening.

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
-I’ll be okay. (Amanda Marshall)----Who downloaded these songs?

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
-Nain Katari Aikhyian ( Band of Boys)----LOL

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
-I’m alive (Celine Dion) God, when did I turn so grateful?

WHAT IS 2 + 2?
-Rapture (Lio) ????????

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
-Hero (Enrique iglesisaisisisis ) Ahana would lovee this!!!!!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
-Welcome to the Jungle(Guns and Roses) Wild me!

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
-Bol na halke halke (Jhoom barabar jhoom) I like the song.

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
-In the End (Linkin Park) Makes all the sense in the world.

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
-Bheegi Yadein

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
-Ya rabba (Kalash kher)—Yeh she must think ya rabba what a boon!

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
-Somewhere Over the Rainbow (Norah jones) It’s a happy day!

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
-We like to party (Vengaboys) Ya that’s apt, I tried doing that all my life!

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
-Sexy eyes…lol I am makeup artist!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
-Superstar (Jamelia) Thumbs up!

WHATS THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
-The word F**K….Someone please remove this from my playlist.

HOW WILL YOU DIE?
-Angel eyes (Raghav) Eyes that kill

WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
-Strawberry Swing (Coldplay) Finally a song by the band I love.

WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
-Seasons in the sun(Westlife) Kya?

WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
-Everything about you (Notting hill) A song by a movie I love.

WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
-Pyaar karke pachtaya ( Pyaar ke side effects)----LOLOLOL

WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
-Death and all his Friends (Coldplay) ohh…seriousness

DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?

-Lazy lamhe?

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
-Pehli Nazar (Atif) I’d change akshay Khanna picturiszation FOR SURE

WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
-Everybody hurts(REM) awww

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
-Take a Chance on me( ABBA) Old is Gold afterall

I love music but not SOO MUCHH......anyways some one else also needs to find crap ion their playlists....

so i tag.....

Ahana WBF DATTA

Digveer De

I don't know.

2009-02-15T21:14:00.007+05:30

I am 17 ½ years old. I am single. I have to carve out my life, a niche in the world. Well that’s nothing new. I am not very passionate about global warming, child labor, poverty or any of that. I don’t know what to do.

I have graduated from school and all that’s left are a bunch of exams which they over hype because after all, from parents to nannies to the Education Board, who doesn’t like to scare the hell out of children.

To say that I am not scared, I’d be lying. These would be the most important exams of my life and it is a make or break issue and to mess it up would be the worst career move.
But what career am I talking about? I don’t even know what I have study tomorrow what can I say about what I have to do all my life? And trust me I have had career counseling.

I may not miss the school as a whole. But maybe its parts, friends, teachers-good and bad, the awesome-ness of being cool in are own way and the inevitable teenage politics and rivalry. Some people say children are too young and too clean to hate, but I believe that this world is too rude, to an extent that it forced a teenager, to develop so much hatred in him that he held a revolver and shot at his Bully. I can never do that, but you never know, man is nothing but a product of circumstances.

Crime and Punishment are two very difficult concepts. Probably that’s what forced Dostoevsky to write a novel by that title. Is a criminal inhuman? Is it his fault that he does what he does or is it the Divine Hand? Or is Karma? Destiny? Life? Is punishment a way of reforming the criminal or the society? Are human rights meant for criminals? Is punishment necessary or do we need a greater level of tolerance? Who is our biggest threat?

Too many questions for a 17 ½ year old. I don’t know, neither the answers nor why all this revolves in my head. Life is cruel. Life can be ended. But that’s running away. Again, the world has become bad enough that we need to liberate our souls or more like finish our pain filled existence.

I am not pessimistic. I am just worried, tensed, scared and a lot more. I just hope for the best-for my friends, my family, my brother, and my readers and eventually for the other 6 billion plus people that inhabit this world. People are born and people die, and in between they breathe the pain of life. Many have done it and we need to too. Solution—Everything is going to be fine, just deal with it. Use the heart, head, whatever. Just go on.

Image-- http://images.elfwood.com/art/z/a/zambonet/confused.jpg

PS: It's been more than a year. Thanks.

Now-- They will decide what we do in our beds, what we have in our glasses and how and when we shake to the music...!

2009-01-31T11:52:00.006+05:30

The New Year calls for....

2009-01-09T12:11:00.012+05:30

Okay, the new year was like a gazillion days back....But resolutions are a must, whether followed or not...so here are some of mine.

The new year calls for..:

1. More Study....Study till Death...and STUDY

2. To get into DU, implication of 1.

3. To Yawn less in class.

4. To get the new Coldplay album-- Prospekts March at any cost, even if it involves....

5. To be more athletic... :(

6. To Blog more, but not like Ahana, who'll post everyday wishing someone Happy B'day. Hey Hawky, happy belated bday anyways.

7. To learn dance ?!?!?!

8. Not to advocate youth empowerment, but do it yourself

9. To direct, act, or do something in some play!!!!

10.To begin Magnum Opus.

11. Not to harbour regrets of any sort.

12. IMP: Not to be SINGLE

13. To read more and more and more......

14. To go solo travelling maybe with a bunch of backpackers.....??? Really??

15. To Carve a Niche. To be Chota-Shakespeare. To be the Best. Should I go for Roadies? Lol...I know someone who should. I love Inside Jokes!!!!!!!

;) Always in Laughter,

Rohan!

(ChotaShakespeare)

Image : http://colorcubic.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/2009-print-preview-blog.png

An it all comes to an end.

2008-12-31T18:52:00.003+05:30

New Year is here.

I have to post this post.

So here we go

HAPPY NEW YEAR !

:D

PS: just change the from Trevor to from Rohan !

Imagine III

2008-12-22T22:57:00.014+05:30

This blog has two unconditional followers. They couldn't understand this story. I don’t blame them, I am an awful writer. I hope this entry clears all doubts and concludes the story. Imagination is powerful.

To John.

Shanu was sitting in the park all alone. There was no Rohan, no Payal. It was just him. The corner Lamp post lit very brightly. Nothing was odd. All was clear. And then he came and sat across Shanu.

“You know I know,” he said.

“What do you know?” questioned a baffled Shanu.

“That you and I were not born the same way,” said Rohan, who is the “he” of course.

“I am sad. Is that way I am getting this treatment?” Shanu asked.

“Yes. Like you feel, so we play.” Rohan spoke the ultimate truth. Shanu felt worse.

“Does she know?” asked a tensed Shanu.

“’Course she does.”

“How will all this end?” asked Shanu.

“There is no end to imagination. We are a product of you. An alternate existence. If you want to cease it all and face the world all alone, you can do it. But if you want to lie to yourself, and seek refuge from the world, let us play on,” Rohan said.

“I want the second option, but it sounds bitter,” said Shanu

“Nothing is bitter in a world that can be made sweet.”

“You are only saying all this because you want to continue living. I am your master. I am responsible for whatever happens to you and to that slut. Don’t deceive me,” said Shanu.

“What happens in your real life doesn’t happen here. We speak only for your benefit.”

“Go away,” he yelled.

And Rohan disappeared into nothingness. He came for his artwork and he went away.

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

Shanu lived on as a dreamer. He saw Dumbledore dilluminating that lamp again. When he was horny, the couple performed for him. When he was angry they fought. When he wanted some one to share his worries with, Payal would talk to him. When he was gloomy, Rohan would return with a reality check. It was a circle of endless imagination. He was the Hero, the player, the crowd, the villain and of course the dreamer.

There are little clues all over the story. This is for those who couldn’t find it after a second reading of the three parts. The lady and the child saw Shanu behaving weirdly. That was because they couldn’t see Payal and Rohan, and hence thought Shanu was blabbering. When he was hitting Rohan, he was actually just hitting the ground and that his how the daughter saw it.

Also the neighbor complains about Shanu ringing the bell every night and walking away. He actually rings the bell, but imagines that Payal walks out. By the time the imaginary character comes and escorts Shanu away, the real neighbor comes out only to see Shanu walking away.

In the second part, it is mentioned that Shanu was horny the other night and hence the awkwardness. On the 2nd night he was angry and hence the fight. He lives in a world of his own creation. He imagines all this because he fears the real world. He is often bullied and rejected. That is why he created this world, a world of its own ups and downs.

I say this for the third time. Imagination is powerful. It helps you create, destroy and do whatever you want to. It helps you rise above the limited into the infinite. The might of imagination is unparalleled.

Imagine.

Need: Time Skipper

2008-12-11T23:12:00.010+05:30

I know is should be posting Imagine III but I guess no one can stop anger.
I was just asking Ahana if there was something like a Time skipper. I so want to skip the next two days. 10 things why I hate the next two days:

1. I don’t want to give an awful 3 hour test in tuition.

2. I don’t want to see some people on stage reading something, which I was more capable of reading.

3. I want the Best Student award on the annual day which is on the 13th, but I know I won’t get it.

4. I don’t want to see Shakespeare’s plays murdered in the school ballet.

5. I don’t want to realize that I wasted two days not studying for my exams.

6. If I mess up these days, I know I won’t feel nice and I don’t want life that way.

7. I don’t have a time skipper that I can skip these days.

8. School is going to end, and I am a little tired of clicking and smiling in pictures, leave aside the diary filling and shirt scribbling.

9. Everyone else is happy and appears to be, but I am not.
10. I have work to do.

How I wish I could bunk these two days, but I can’t. So like everything else my advice to myself is- Deal with it. What’s your take?

Imagine II

2008-12-01T21:54:00.003+05:30

Shanu was angry. Shanu was annoyed. Shanu was disappointed. Some bullies had attacked him, humiliated him and his scars showed the least signs of humility. A fire raged within him, one that brought down everything, one that no insurance company could compensate for and one that was going to have an effect on many, even Payal.

He greeted her angrily that night, like she really cared, she had much more on her mind. He wished that something bad would happen to her, to the world and to anyone he knew. He wanted justification for his state and found it in suffering.

They entered the park. Shanu’s mind started working like a machinery of negativity. He wanted a gloomy atmosphere, full of despair and death. He wanted unhappiness. He wanted it all. Payal didn’t see what se wanted to see. She became sad.

They were doing their first round. Unlike all times, they were talking to each other, discussing their problems, issues, worries and concerns, which when compare to the world were miniscule. They sympathized with each other but neither of them felt one inch of genuine empathy.

Rohan enters. He looks around and is unhappy to see the bone in the chicken-Shanu. He can’t help it. Every loan comes with some sort of interest obligation, let this dreamer come too. Payal joined Rohan and they moved away to walk and talk for a change.

Shanu was alone and even more angry now. What right does he have to take my friend away, he thought. He wasn’t feeling horny today, though he was very, the other night. He kept walking melancholy. Shanu stopped in the middle of the track and stared at the couple, clearly listening to them.

Rohan advanced towards Payal, and said “Baby, come here. It’s okay. Now give me a kiss.”
Payal looked like an angry demon. She pushed Rohan away and yelled, “Get away you pervert!”

Shanu was enjoying the scene a lot. He smirked to himself and shouted loudly “Hit Him! Hit Him!”

A mother daughter duo were heading towards the dark corner were Shanu was standing. The child asked her mother,” Ma, why is that man standing there doing nothing? What is he looking at? And why is he yelling?”

The mother was as baffled as the daughter. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t see anything but wild bushes and trees. Every parent has to learn the art of lying, this mother an expert, replied, “He’s admiring the scenery and humming the song- Hit him!” The innocent girl nodded and they continued walking.

Shanu realized he had yelled high and the couple had heard him. Payal looked at him and of course Rohan did too. They had the “mind your own business and get lost look” on their face. He didn’t like that look.

Payal pushed Rohan hard, hard enough to land him on the ground, hip first. “Baby, you wanna lie here and do it, I am cool,” said Rohan. The pervert would never change. Payal started beating him up, he seem to be getting some weird pleasure. Shanu was having sadistic pleasure and joined Payal in the mob like behavior.

The mother and daughter duo returned. The curious child questioned, “Ma, why is he hitting the ground.”
The mother replied, “He is hiding his treasure sweetie.”
“I want to do that too.”
“We will, but tomorrow.”

With great joy in their hearts, Payal and Shanu returned towards their home.

Meanwhile, there were two complaints that night. Shanu’s neighbor complained to his Mother that he would ring their door bell every night and then go away. The child complained to the mother that she didn’t want to wait for tomorrow but bury the treasure now.

Imagination is powerful. You can get all that you want. So Just Imagine.

Imagine-I

2008-11-27T23:39:00.018+05:30

He rang the doorbell for the second time. What was taking Miss Slutty Two Boobs so long? He took out his cell phone to call her up, but she came sooner. A mini skirt and cut sleeves top is certainly not the dress code for an amble in the nearby park, but how would she know. She was just company for him, time pass in the process of digesting the heavy dinner. But she didn’t do that, you’ll see.

They entered the park. He gazed around. A bunch of elderly couples walking silently as if they were approaching the doors of heaven. A few vagabonds and mavalis talking outrageously loud on their cell phone as if the person on the other end was on Pluto. And some families and friends of course. But where was his soul mate?

She gazed around the park. Some useless old fashioned baboons who thought she was inappropriately dressed. Certain nymphomaniacs who kept staring as if they’d get what they want. And some families and Friends of course. But where was Rohan?

They began their rounds. She kept walking with an arrogant face and he with his earphones on listened to the radio. His phone had less memory so he couldn’t double it with a music player. She hadn’t joined him so she could talk to him and interact so to speak. She came to meet Rohan, which her parents wouldn’t have allowed. So she caught up with our nice little boy, like it happens so often, to use him and meet with her boy. To spare you from the monotony, our protagonist doesn’t like her.

Around the first turn Shanu noticed the unlit lamp post. He thought to himself, Dumbeldore must have done it with his deluminator and would soon come and fix that. They kept walking oblivious of each other’s existence. Round one is over and Rohan the Stud enters. Payal leaves Shanu behind to join her mate.

I want to beat that backstabbing barmy backbiting bitch behind that bush, he thought to himself. He continued his stroll. He crossed the lamppost and along the same turn noticed that no one was in front of him. The entire stretch was empty. The music was good, even though ironic- Bachna ae Haseno. With an impulse he ran across, as if he had achieved glory. He felt in that one moment, that he had won, that his purpose was fulfilled and that he was great. He halted. He felt like Lucas Scott in One Tree Hill—I am the master of my fate, The Captain of my soul. Lucas had brilliantly portrayed these wonderful lines of William Henley and so had Shanu. Don’t Imagine, after all we all do weird stuff.

In his third round around the same turn, he saw Payal and Rohan cuddling in the not so visible portion of the park. When will they change?

Rounds and rounds, kisses on kisses, songs on songs, parallels and comparisons, it all continued. When Rohan was no longer horny and even if he was, could not carry on, he freed Payal. She returned all exhausted and semi conscious. They walked back home. Shanu turned around and gave the park one more look. It was the same.

To be Continued.

Desire.

2008-10-31T22:37:00.014+05:30

To the Guitarist,

He looked into the mirror. He could see the guilt in his eyes. He washed his hands, hoping that like all criminals his guilt will too be reduced. He used soap and washed his face, perhaps moving a step further. He wasn’t at fault. He was driven away by desire. Desire that made him mad, crazy, fulfilling for a while and ashamed forever.

To the Professor,

He looked at her. She was extremely pretty from outside and inside.
“Hi Bitch how are you?” he asked her

“Hi Ass, I am fine. How was your exam?” she asked.

“Like all other exams, thek tha..”

“Ya. You are off to cloud nine with glory and I’ll barely pass.”

“It’s okay! Handling a Geisha business and studying is not so easy!” he mocked.

“Right. If you can run a kotha and manage to top your class, I have a lot to learn” she replied playing away.

He couldn’t resist. He was in the desire web. He caught her by the waist and bent a little. The position resembled exactly that which comes in movies. It was perfect, it was magical and so surreal.

“Abbey iska answer kya hain” said Arjun.

He came back to life. She was still looking pretty, prettier than she looked in his imagination. The geek was standing admiring his Helen of Troy. If only he was a little less smarty pants and more sexy shorts, it could have worked. He was still caught in the net of desire. The desire to be all that he wanted to be……

To Rose,

I see it out there.
I want it very badly
It will come to me.

The dedications are special in their own way. All interpretations are welcome. The correct answer won't win any prize!
;)

08.08.08

2008-08-08T23:07:00.007+05:30

Since this date would return after a long time...I thought of making it memorable...

So here is a weird empty post....
I'll fill it when I write next...maybe after my exams....
Wish me luck for that matter... :D

Goodbye for now..!

Regards,
Rohan
(ChotaShakespeare)

Untitled

2008-08-07T23:36:00.007+05:30

I stared at the numbers. I was unable to comprehend their meaning and how they were computed. Accountancy is a logical subject with only two broad components Debit or Credit. My tutor went on and on to explain the class what was going on and I kept sitting there blankly. That was largely because of two reasons, my two nostrils kept draining mucus and nosy (Indianized version of mucus) and also that I didn’t posses a napkin. I looked left and then right, no one was looking at me, not even my partner. Sir turned his back to the class and wrote on the board. The moment was perfect. I squeezed my nose, collected the mucus and rubbed it off on my pants. Relief and disgust. I hate my nose, my life and the horrid Air conditioner that was making matters worse.

Thankfully the class got over. One and a half hours of complete pain and suffering. The world conspires to trouble me. I got out of the tuition center and looked around. It was all messy and humid. It had rained heavily and it was still drizzling. I went towards the main road repeating in my mind how I hated to study so much; how some weird test was coming near; how my Sunday was going to get ruined finishing some exercise from some hefty math book. I looked around. Everyone was smiling and happy. They were armed with heavy cash and equipped with shopping bags. If only I was rich and influential, life would be so easy.

I went to the Auto Stand to hail one so that I could return home. I spoke to the driver.

“Model Town”

“Pain-tees rupiye” he replied. (Thirty-Five rupees)

“Pachis thek hain bhaiya. Rooz tution aata jaata hoon” (Twenty-five is fine. I come for tuition everyday.)

He shook his head. Bad luck is stuck to me, I thought. I kept walking drenching myself in the rain that had begun to intensify. Why does this always happen to me? Why me? I continued in the endless search for an ideal auto. I was now at the red light. I had by now stopped three drivers, but all in vain. Finally I ran across to the other side of the road and asked another one. The same questions repeated.

“Chaliye.” (Let’s go) said the Generous auto driver. Finally my ass got some rest. The benches of the tuition center aren’t very great you see.

“I was looking at these shops. My daughter’s birthday is on the 12^th. I was wondering what to gift her,” said the auto-wallah (auto-owner).

Oh Crap! When all the things are starting to look good, something spoils everything. Talkative drivers- a complete pet peeve. Why cant they just do their job and be done away with it? Why do they have to share their views, opinions and ideas with a complete stranger? Firstly I am slightly hard of hearing, secondly there is so much noise in the auto and finally I don’t care to listen to what they are speaking and comprehend and reply accordingly. Since I heard him, I had to reply.

“Ok.”

The signal changed. Thank God. Now he would keep quiet.

“So in what college are you in?” asked the gossip king.

“ I am in 12^th,” I replied disinteresting-ly.

“Acha. So what stream do you have?” he asked.

What does he know about streams?

“I have commerce.”

“Ok. Good Good. But nowadays the science people are in demand. They earn handsomely.”

“Ya. But you have to study a lot and besides I didn’t ever get science,” I tried to defend the commerce community and my choice.

“Maybe.”

He then went on to narrate an incident, which involved dropping a science student for an entrance exam in heavy rains like these. I didn’t get most of it so I omit writing it here. Let’s narrate the good part.

“Okay,” I said after he said something.

“You should have taken science. People like you should become doctors,” he said.

“Aisa Kyun?” I asked why so?

“You would look nice as a doctor. You are so handsome and beautiful. Smart people like you end up as fantastic doctors. You are definitely of the likes of a doctor.”

I burst out laughing. I had never heard such a thing. He started laughing too. The laughter subsided but the effect lasted long.

“So what do you plan to do after college?” he asked curiously.

“I’ll study at DU,” I told him.

“You’ll have to study a lot.” God this guy knows a lot.

We were just about to reach my home and he said, “I just paid my Auto installment.” He took out a yellow paper and I saw it from my seat.

In my lane there is a huge banner of Sri Sai Baba. Who put it up I don’t know but it was regarding some event organized in his name. Seeing it he said, “There is increasing belief in Sai Baba these days. At an event, I saw a hallucination that I saw him. I told a friend of mine and he said that it was fantastic that I had seen Sri Sai Baba.” Sakshat Darshan- meeting the God.

I smiled. He couldn’t see it but I guess he knew I was. I told him to stop in front of my house. I paid him and said Thanks. He thanked me as well.

This was one of my best auto rides. I can’t believe I would be so engrossed in a conversation and then transform it into a blog entry as well. But I guess that since so many people are part of our lives and we of so many, that even a small meeting can bring a great effect. If I am not mistaken, differentiation is all about this only.

As I was entering home, I was smiling a lot, more than usual. But as I said, I hate my life and among good things come bad ones; a negative thought crossed my mind. Did the driver trick me into all this, that in my happiness I would give him extra money? Did he try to fool me? I might sound insecure, but I don’t know. I brushed that thought away. I am now of the view that my life is horrible but it has it’s own “great smile” moments. Doesn’t everyone’s life have these? What am I fussing about?

With or Without You

2008-07-25T21:13:00.006+05:30

Heya..

I wrote the following story for a competition organized by theviewspaper
I did not win but they appreciated my work and posted my entry on their website. Thanks Viewspaper. The following is the link to my story.

With or Without You

The Last Mystery

2008-07-19T00:02:00.004+05:30

Since this is the concluding entry, I wanted it to be special. So here goes.

Drona looked at his Mother. He could feel the fear in him trying to come out. It wanted to free itself; expand its cover over people and spread it’s black magic. It had convinced Drona to do what it desired. Drona lost himself to his fear, his guilt and his redemption.

“Mom, I am scared. Can I tell you something?”

It had been some time that Mohit hadn’t heard from his dad. It finally seemed that he had left, left them forever, so that they can live and rest in peace. Mohit had relived hat day many times. He had spent hours speculating what might be?

Mohit’s Mom entered his room.

“This letter came for you.”

Arika was standing at the room door. She was happier than ever. Nathan was being discharged today. Their life could now finally resume to normal. They could have their best friend time. She was on Cloud Infinitum…

Nathan looked at her. He was in a dilemma. Should he or should he not?

“Arika, I have to tell you something. Be brave enough to listen.”

“You did it!” exclaimed Drona’s dad when he heard the bitter truth.

“It was an accident, Dad,” said a sobbing Drona.

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to shift. Shift to some place far away.”

“But Dad, he has withdrawn the case….”

“I don’t care. I care about my son and I think it’s best if he’s safe.”

Mohit opened the yellowish white envelope. It had a letter pad sheet. He kept staring at the blank side for a long time. He knew who had sent it. He wanted to read. He wanted to know more. But something held him back. The fear of the unknown. Fear had actually spread. He turned the paper.

“What is it Nathan?”

“It’s about Drona,” he replied.

“Nathan, I know what you mean. I have been thinking about it myself. I believe its time when I should think about my future and myself. I can’t afford to cling on his back and move ahead. I have thought of parting. I don’t need him nor do I love him. This is rude but is true.”

“You’ll be joining a high school in Austin in Texas. I have talked to your uncle. You’ll be living with him. The session begins in August. There is time for visa and application. That is not a problem. Are you okay?”

“You are sending me away. I have lost all that I had. How can I be okay? I guess I don’t have a deal with fate or the Supreme. If this is for the best, I cant do anything.” replied a remorseful Drona.

Mohit turned the page. It was the insect like handwriting of his father. The letter was short but not sweet. It had only one word. The word that we use everyday. The word that means nothing to us but everything when it comes to fixing things gone wrong. It has lost it’s strength and it’s effect. It is just a combination of alphabets.

“Sorry”

Nathan was in his car. He still hadn’t told Arika. It was the fear of truth; one that comes and test your character. His phone rang. It was Drona.

“Hey”

“Hi”

Drona narrated his tale to Nathan. He was sad for Drona. He had to pay a heavy price for his mistake. Nathan felt it was best to be deceptive and hide the truth. He had planned this before and there was no need to alter it. Drona had suffered enough. His departure though had to be told to others.

Drona was reflecting on his situation. Why was he the victim? Why was life so hard to live? Why is pain so powerful? Why isn’t sorrow short lived? He couldn’t find these answers in the books of literature or philosophy of the book of fate; they are all hidden in your mind and heart, waiting to be understood.

Drona was broken but was firm to go on. He must go on.

Mohit tore the page apart. Forgiveness cannot be given to those who may never learn. He had lost all trust and faith in that man. He was not his father. He was not anything of his. He was just a bad memory, a good one too as it helped Mohit to be what he ought to be. Mohit’s phone rang. He received the message of Drona’s departure.

Mohit went to his mom.

“It’s all over.”

There was time in Drona’s departure. Arika bid adieu to both, their relationship and to Drona. He was special. But not all special things can be with you. Mohit was sad that his best buddy was leaving. People always leave.[1] He had left a mark. He was going to leave a mark.

Arika set out on her self-discovery. She became everything she dreamt. She forgot Drona and Mohit. You don’t remember everyone in high school. People always learn to forget.

Mohit led a life of ease. He had nothing to fear or to lose. He had lost all his friends, his father and his identity. He was no longer the new kid. He was the brave kid. People always fight.

Nathan, the side character, was always there, to watch out for loopholes in the story, to fill dramatic ends, to be the magical wizard of emotions and to be the author himself. People are always there for you.

Thanks.

[1] One tree Hill

The Birth of a Martyr (Mystery VIII)

2008-07-12T01:33:00.004+05:30

It was a dark room. The moonlight was coming in from one of the windows. It was suffocating. The weeping of the child echoed in the room. Each teardrop that fell from his eyes onto the ground carried the happiness away from him. It did not relieve him from the pain that he had gone through or the one that awaited him.

The Boy got up. He felt weak in the knees. He didn’t have any energy yet he had to move on. He moved out of the room and went downstairs. The staircase was deathly. With each step, his condition worsened. In his mind he could witness many things. The entire reel of events rolled time and again. He couldn’t help but continue.

He approached the door of a room. Before he knocked or opened, blood started flowing out from it. It made him sick. He didn’t understand what to do. The door flung open. The monster, with eyes that talked of terror, with a voice that deafened the Gods, with a mind that talked of evil and a heart that knew no love, stood before him. He held the child by his neck and pushed him against the wall.

The Boy woke up. It was 3:00 AM. He lay back on the bed, hoping that all this would soon be over.

Drona and Mohit were having breakfast together. They did not know what awaited them that day. They knew not what their plan was.

“Son, are you okay?” asked Mohit’s Mom.

“No Maa. Not at all. I am scared, but I must be brave. I have to face him. I must.”

Arika was standing at the door. She was about to ring the bell, just when a gentleman came from behind.

“Hi,” said the guy.

“Hello,” said Arika and rang the bell.

“You here to see Mohit?” questioned the man.

“Yes. I am his friend. You?” replied Arika.

“Yes him only. I am his dad,” replied the ass.

The door opened. It was Mohit’s Mom.

“I guess, I can’t let one of you enter and let the other one rot outside. I am not as cruel as the son of bitch in front of me,” said the brave woman.

All of them entered.

Mohit saw his father. It gave him chills that the sperm of this guy made his existence possible. He was happy that traits are not genetic, but sad for obvious reasons. He looked into the eyes of the criminal. Hatred was all that was transmitted.

“Why have you come?” asked Mohit.

“To see you, son. Nice girlfriend. Too soon don’t you think Honey?”

The audacity of a foolish man can never be questioned. It is in this foolishness of his that he creates the grossest mistakes. He doesn’t deserve a place in your heart; but only in your head, for it is there where you balance the weight of guilt and punishment.

“What do you want? Take it and go away forever!” yelled Mohit.

“One more time? What say? We’ll film it,”

“Get the hell out of here. Go away or God forbid I will kill you,” answered back the lady.

“Really? With the army of these teenagers? Let’s have a War. Yeeee!” mocked Dad.

Pain and anger go hand in hand. The more pain you face the angrier you are. It’s like fire and heat. You know the glass is full only when water spills out. It was happening now.

Mohit, like the cannon of anger, shot himself at his father. He threw him back. His back hit the wall. Mohit did not rest.

“You know what. Lets do it. Lets give these guys some pleasure too.”

Mohit took off his t-shirt and shorts.

“This is what you want. Tell me! This scar on my knee, when you hit me with that hammer. Look at it! This mark on face, when you put that steaming iron on my face. You want to do it again- Go Ahead! These marks on my back when you hit me again and again. Are you happy now? Is the animal in you satisfied? Tell me…. Tell me…” Mohit had started crying now. No one moved. They had just witnessed something; I don’t know what to call it.

Mohit’s Dad stood there staring at his mistakes. He was breathing heavily. He gulped and closed his eyes. No one spoke, for the naked truth (quite literally) had had too much of an effect.

Mohit’s dad left the house without a word. The incident changed him or not, or he had nothing to say so he left or he was just helpless and bound, too early to say. Mohit’s mom was proud of her son. He had been not a man; he’d been something higher, not a God, but something which is rare in the likes of men.

Drona was spellbound. The act of courage and the transformation of agony into action had left a deep impact on his mind. He might have been the greatest jock, but to be the greatest “Lion for a day” mattered much more.

Arika was stunned. She was amazed at Mohit’s doing. She couldn’t believe what she had seen or heard in the past few minutes. It was so surreal and so hero-like that she couldn’t acknowledge the greatness of the event.

Mohit dressed himself up. He didn’t understand what had happened or what had given him the strength to take the action he had taken. He couldn’t believe it, like the others couldn’t. Maybe you can’t too, but I think all of us have our own bursts of courage and emotions, and we ourselves never understand why we did it. Maybe there is a logic in it; maybe there is a pattern; but as long as we are unaware, allow me to call it The Strength of The Self.

No one still had the words to talk. Mohit finally spoke, “Maa, can I have a glass of water, I am a little tired.”

Everyone laughed

It was indeed the birth of a Martyr.

The Mystery VII

2008-07-04T14:20:00.006+05:30

“Your Dad. Okay so?” asked Nathan.

“Well…There are some bad things he had done and that is why we left him. But now he has returned and I am scared,” said a frank Mohit.

“What did he do?” questioned Arika.

Mohit was too weak to answer that. He left the room. He couldn’t hold himself anymore. Arika went behind him. She said, “Drona you stay here and I’ll see what’s up with him.”

Mohit was sitting on a chair in the corner of the hospital lobby. He was crying. It is like the horrible feeling of being announced the king of the world, but being robbed of the title the very next day. For the first time in his life he felt that he belonged. He was happy to know that someone had his back. He was overjoyed with his immediate acceptance; but now realized that no matter how beautiful the journey is, you always have to return home.

Arika spotted him. She took a glass of water and approached him.

“You cool?”

“No. Not at all,” he sobbed.

“Okay we are the super-kids, we’ll sort this out.”

“We cannot. We can never. I must go home.”

“But if you just tell me, maybe I can…”

“You want to know what he did. He attacked me. Yes. I am a victim of Child Abuse. Happy?” cried an angry and hurt Mohit.

Arika did not know what to say. She was zapped with what she had just heard. She didn’t know what to say. Whenever we come across any horrid news that dads kill nice children or vice versa, we never once nightmare (opposite of dream) that it would happen to us. It was like that, being hit with the stark reality.

Unaware of what to do, she just hugged him, hoping that it would reduce the damage if not repair it. For the longest period of time, or maybe it seemed longer, Mohit cried into the arms of Arika. He was desperately trying that the pain should go, but grief is a stubborn and malicious feeling.

“I must go home, Mom is all alone and he must be coming again and again. He must want to see me, though I don’t want to see him. This has to end now,” he said bravely.

“Well Superman, you aren’t going anywhere all alone. We never know what psycho-dad might do,” said the rationalist.

“Arika…why does this have to happen to me?”

“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s see what we can do now. Okay I have thought of something. Listen carefully. You go home now, but all of us will also go. School is off tomorrow, so Drona will stay with you tonight. Let’s ask him if he can, though it’s just a formality.”

Mohit had calmed down by now. He was ever so determined to face the music. They reached Nathan’s room. The two of them had been awaiting them. The last sentence was funny.

“Hi Nathan! I guess you’ll have to excuse us all. I know you have recovered and we should party, but we are not the ever-free people. I am so sorry but something urgent has come up. Now if Drona would not stop admiring you, we could get to work,” said an amusing Arika.

“Ok you can go, but would you care to tell us what’s going on?” asked Nathan.

“We don’t have time for that. I’ll tell you tomorrow. DRONA!!”

Scared to death, Drona said goodbye to Nathan and went towards the group. All of them waved at Nathan and wished him a speedy recovery. They were now moving towards Arika’s car, which was in the parking lot.

“Ok Mr. Drona call your mother and tell her to pack your night suit and a change of clothes, you are staying at Mohit’s house tonight.”

Mohit started giggling.

“What are you giggling at? It is your crisis we are solving. Yes, so where was I. Mohit and his Mom had left his Dad because he apparently tried to abuse Mohit. Now that he has returned, we fear he might try to harm him. So you stay with him tonight for moral support and tomorrow all of us meet Daddy dearest and teach him a lesson for life. Plan Clear?”

“I-I captain” said Drona.

Drona made the call. All of them sat in Arika’s car. They collected the clothes.

“It’s a slumber party. Woo-ho” mocked Drona. All of them laughed. The car ride was gloomy and silent. All of them had so many conflicts in their mind and in their life. They had to fight all of them, alone or together. They soon stopped at Mohit’s house.

“Best of luck and don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” said Arika.

Both of them smiled.

Mohit rang the doorbell. Her mom opened the door and hugged Mohit.

“This will be over soon. I promise,” she consoled.

She then welcomed Drona and thanked him for coming over and helping Mohit out. She was a bold woman. She could have faced Mohit’s dad all by herself, but she feared that her son would live with the horror of his Dad returning to him. She feared he might never learn to fight.

All of them skipped dinner. Their troubles had occupied too much of their mind, to even feel the groaning of the stomach. Drona and Mohit went to the bedroom. Both of them lay on the bad, wide-awake.

“So how did it go with Nathan?” asked Mohit.

Drona narrated all that had happened. He was happy for him; though full of pity for himself. Suddenly Mohit’s cell phone vibrated. He had received a text message.

"Don’t you want to meet son?”

Mohit looked at Drona.

“The last time, someone lay on this bed with me—it was my dad. He tried to…”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Cheer up! My first time will be special and certainly not with you!”

-Laughs-

“Good Night and remember all of us are here to help you.”

“Good Night and Thanks.”

They pretended that they were sleeping. So much had happened in a day.

Confessions, revival of the retrospective, schemes to face the world and burying of truths. Are these the lives of normal teenagers? Is this story the plot of some soap? Does this happen in real life? Is it possible that a bunch of teenagers face all the problems of the world per se rash driving, lying semi dead on hospital beds, having mad parentage and being a friend to all of them? I don’t know how much you relate to this, or that you just stick around because it’s interesting and is beautifully woven with magical words; but I know I had to express myself and did the right thing by writing what I am murmuring right now. The probability of this story being true might be zero, but that doesn’t stop me from writing. Maybe that’s also what keeps Ekta Kapoor going. I don’t know, nor do I want to. I just hope you like this. Thanks for reading, but there is a lot more to wait for.

The Mystery VI

2008-06-18T15:13:00.015+05:30

The Horrid medicine smell made it’s way up to the nostrils of the two young men. They entered Nathan’s room with smiles stuck on their nervous faces. They didn’t want to invite any suspicion from their guilt.

“ Finally. It’s so nice to see you here, especially you Mohit. You’ve barely known him and here you are. Nice,” said Arika.

Mohit gave an ear-to-ear smile. All of them chatted for a while, talking about football, some pest-y History teacher and the usual I hate everyone but myself gibber.

“I’ll get some drinks for everyone. Arika, would you like to come along?” asked Mohit.

“Can’t you get them on your own? How hard is it to carry some cans and glasses?”

“I don’t know where to get them from. Besides I am broke,” apologized Mohit.

“Right. Let’s go. And you two, don’t fight. I know you don’t like each other but please…” said Arika.

“Don’t worry, we wont,” said Nathan.

Everybody fears some kind of social situation. People fear being in company of the people they don’t know, the ones they fear, the ones they love and also the ones they hate. This was the most uninviting social situation for Drona. He wanted to get away, but couldn’t. It seemed like Mohit had some kind of arrangement with the Creator, that he purposely left them alone. You never know….

“So, how long will you be here?” asked Drona

“About another week. You know I know.”

“You know what…”

“Close the door for me, will you?”

Drona did as he was told to. He was trembling inside.

“I know it was you that night.”

“Did you tell the police?” asked a half unconscious Drona.

The door opened behind them. It was Nathan’s parents without the family friend.

“Hi Drona! Nice to see you here. You two mended your little differences?” asked Nathan’s mother.

“ Mom- Dad. I wanted to talk to you about something. I would like to withdraw the police case. It’s no use. I know who the driver was and…”

“So did you tell the police who it was?” asked Father dearest.

“I know him as in I know he’s innocent. I am not so hated that someone would kill me. It was surely an accident. You know how dimly lit our street is. I don’t want all the media, the police and the newspapers blowing things up. I just want to rest with my friends-new and old.” He smiled at Drona, who was sweating still.

“Son, are you sure?” asked Mommy dearest.

“I have thought about it all day.”

“I’ll just call those guys and get this done,” said Nathan’s dad.

“Thanks dad.”

Nathan’s dad moved out of the room to make the phone call.

“Mom, I am so sorry, but I wanted to talk something to Mohit, you know naaaaa”

“Ok. I’ll get something for you guys. Anything to drink?”

“Thanks. Mom. Maybe some chips for Drona”

She smiled and went away. She was this kind soul from heaven. Her eyes spoke only generosity and her lips only spoke goodness. She was an ideal parent, wife and human being. Truly an angel.

The door closed again.

“ I did not tell them and besides you have heard what I plan to do,” spoke Nathan.

“I don’t know what to say…..” said Drona.

“Just do me this favor. Don’t tell Arika. I don’t want her to bear any pain. She is my best friend and it is best that she is protected from this harsh reality. I know that the truth should be let out but just bury this.”

“I don’t know…She deserves to know. I am guilty.”

“So does the world. But what will we gain out of this, nothing but pain and misery. Just forget it. I wont ever blackmail you, don’t worry.”

Drona’s eyes were moist by now. He was grateful and sorry. He didn’t understand what had happened. The words of an 8th grade poem kept recurring in his mind.

The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

“Thanks….”

Nathan smiled. He then said: “Don’t cry dude. Doesn’t suit my Homme.”

The entire room sparkled with the laughter of these young men. The sadness, the guilt, the misery and the pain all seem to have vanished in the smiles. It is like looking at a baby and feeling the tenderness in him; like standing alone in front of a waterfall and feeling the beauty of nature; like a hugging a loved one; like floating in the sea of love.

The beauty was so irresistible that God willed that Arika should see it too. She entered the room with plastic glasses in her hands. At the sight of them laughing she commented, rather exclaimed, “If I was someone from High School, I wouldn’t ever believe what I just saw. You guys cool?”

“Are we cool?” asked Drona.

“We sure are Buddy.”

All of them smiled. Nathan’s dad and mom returned from the tasks they had been assigned. They weren’t helps just caring parents.

Dad said, “Case withdrawn, as you said. Will just complete the formalities.”

Mom said, “Chips, anyone?”

Mohit shook his head to Drona at the news he just heard. Drona nodded and smiled. He wanted to know hat had happened in that room. He felt relieved.

Arika then asked, “ You withdrew the case, why?”

Nathan replied, “I forgive the person. I hate pain and revenge even more. The person must be innocent. I believe it is justice in giving him a second chance and not in punishing him.”

Mohit tried a hand at a joke, “ You could be a judge.”

The same sparkle filled the room, again. When there is too much happiness, God steals some of it. Mohit’s cell phone rang. He picked it up and talked for less than a minute.

“Guys I have to go,” said a remorseful Mohit.

“What happened Mo?” asked Arika.

“My Dad has returned….”

The Mystery V

2008-06-01T19:54:00.004+05:30

Mohit rushed to the landline. He dialed the numbers that were written on the paper before him. He didn’t know if he had wrongly punched some number, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to talk; hopefully to the person he had dialed.

“Hello” said Mohit

“Hello” replied a husky voice.

“Drona I am so sorry. The electricity just went out and I couldn’t reply.”

“You don’t need to. I understood how you felt, talking to a someone like me.”

“No. No. I am sure it was an accident. I am sure.”

-No Reply-

“I want to talk this out in person. Where can we meet now?”

-No Reply-

“You know what, I don’t like talking to myself.”

“Outside the hospital. In about an hour. Ok?”

“Perfect. I’ll be there…you don’t worry.”

“Like I have less to worry…”

Call Ended.

The police officer came out. He was wearing a sweet smile, even though they aren’t perceived as sweet people. He gave a nod cum smile to Nathan’s Parents and then moved out. He didn’t say anything.

Everyone rushed back into the room, everyone as in Arika, the parents and some weird family friend whose nose looked weirder.

“So do you remember anything?” asked Mommy.

“Ma..I don’t want to talk about it. At least as of now…”

“Sure, Honey.”

“So Arika, what all have I missed in school?”

“Oh…not much. School is so boring without you, but there is the new kid called Mohit. He is cool.”

“Ahh…So Drona isn’t taking good care of you eh? Keeping you bored is he?”

Seeing the topic of relationships come in between, the parents moved out. They felt the children or rather the best buddies should spend some quality time together. They cared about their son and didn’t want to leave him alone. The last thing they could think about right now was food, but there was no other place to go for either. In short, they were hungry but not heartless. And the weird nose guy went along too.

“Hey, you don’t say anything about my guy. Ok? He’s really a gem, though a mini-idiot. He isn’t very bad,” answered a possessive Arika.

“I know how good or bad he is,” replied Nathan

Whatever that is supposed to mean…

Mohit white lied to his Mom. He told her he was going to meet his friend, but he didn’t tell her where, when or how? He just said he had his cell phone, just in case. He rushed to the hospital, obviously not on his feet. He hailed an auto, bargained on the exorbitant price that the driver charged, and eventually negotiated on a price that was still a little higher than usual.

He reached the hospital, but Drona was nowhere to be seen. Had he ditched him, like life had sometime ago? Had he not considered him a good friend, like his destiny had ignored him? All these thoughts were circling in his mind like a cyclone, when he saw Drona walking up to him. He was looking at the ground; he didn’t have the courage to look up.

“Hey…you fine?”

“Do I look like fine?” shot back Drona.

“Ok…”

“So why did you call me here?”

“Lets take a seat first.”

They sat on the bench in the hospital’s park. It was a weird place.

“It was an accident. I wasn’t drunk. I was just driving to the pharmacy. Nathan’s house comes on the way. I crossed the red light and it was a straight empty road. I was driving. The light was dim and flickering. You know what I mean. He was crossing the road from the divider in between. I didn’t see him and when I did I couldn’t press the breaks. I mean I tried but the car didn’t stop, it just accelerated. I think I was nervous, so ended up in wrong foot movement. I never liked Nathan but I did not hate him. I hope you understand.”

“What happened next?”

Drona took a deep breath.

“The car eventually stopped. I saw him lay there, in a pool of blood. He was badly hit, terribly. I couldn’t have taken him to the hospital. The police you know. I just reversed and ran. Drove so far off so that no one could ever find me. But it seems the truth will be out soon. It always does.”

“Drona…. I am so sorry. I believe you completely.”

“Thanks…”

Suddenly Drona’s cell phone rang. It was Arika calling. He picked it up.

“Are you ever going to come upstairs to meet Nathan or keep waiting here in the park?” taunted Arika.

“How’d you know?” asked Drona.

“You know, Nathan’s room has a window and it overlooks the park. And you can now look up to wave at me.”

They looked up. Drona was happy she hadn’t heard them.