Best guys always end up last

I know it is a cliché and all of you have heard this when you ended up broken hearted, you must have told this to your brother in arms over a few shots of vodka and might have consoled your self with this to put your self to sleep. However convenient it may sound, I don't agree. Best guys never end up last because they don't race.

When do you care about finishing last? When you're in a race, when you are embarrassed to finish last, when you're competing against pack of other individuals- you think you might just be able to beat if you gave your best shot. When you fall in love with someone, you aren't running any race, there is no embarrassment in falling in love, you are not competing against anyone, and then there is no question of ending up last. Is there?

It is myth, about being nice and not getting what you wanted. Did we ever think perhaps we didn't deserve it in first place? Perhaps a scar on a face means more in longer run than a plastic smile? Perhaps we didn't go after right thing?  Perhaps that is what is right for us?

When you love someone so much that you are ready to put the other person before you, that is when you come anywhere close to being the best. Although, there is nothing practical about Love, let us try and look at it little practically, maybe more objectively… If you loved someone so much so, that you were afraid that a little too much of leverage of my tongue and I'll end up hurting the person? When most of the things you did had subtle thought of someone influencing them? When you could for once, see future beyond Saturday night? When thought of someone brought smile on your face in the middle of a physics class or during a business meeting? When an empty table and a half filled cup of coffee reminded you of someone?  When you repeated a shirt knowing someone noticed it last time? When you didn't sleep just because of the fight? When that someone asked a world out of you? And eventually when she asked for a friend out of you? Didn't you place it right in her hands? Where does the question of ending last come in?

One never ends up last unless he thinks he was in a race, in a hurry to get somewhere, before something, for something materialistic pleasure. There are no comparisons, no games, no rush, no achievements. It is only when you let go of everything you are free to do anything. Free to fall and let gravity do it's job. 

You lose something, you fall hard and it hurts. But you don't end up last. Life wasn't made to be fair but it feels good to know you played by the rules and held you head high. It hurts even more because, sometimes she doesn't know what she wanted until she got it and she doesn't realize that you deserved her as much as she did until she loses you.

Looking back we tend to think, I did the right thing n she did the right thing. But think again, did u? Might you want to change your perspective? Did I get you thinking? If I did, then why don't you go and do the right thing, it is still not too late.

Neo.

 

24

Swatch

Marlboro + Nescafe

Times

Johnson n Johnson

Gillette

Old Spice

Palmolive

Adidas

Jockey + Arrow + Levis

Hush Puppies

Ford

Apple

Nescafe + Marlboro

Coke + Subway + Orbit + Marlboro

Apple

Nokia / Blackberry

Marlboro

Nokia

Ford

Budweiser + Absolut + Jack Daniels

Ministry of Sound

Absolut + Marlboro

Taxi

Durex

Marlboro + Kinley

Durex + Durex

Taxi

Swatch

Nescafe + Nescafe

Nokia

|

|

|

|

?

Neo

Thank you for making me believe you don't love me

It has been a while since I've sat outside on chilly wind, alone, making funny figures out of smoke. Last time, I was freezing to death but puffing a few more funny figures in a lonesome night, someone actually walked out with me n said, "People always have bad habits but that is not the reason they should be left alone."

Tonight, I'm shivering in a cold night. Wine bottle in half empty and friends have left. I'm leaning over my balcony, trying to grab one glimpse of my moon. But, I won't ... the sky is too crowded with the clouds. I just close my eyes and take a deep breath and wish I could see some light. I still don't.

Yet another deep breath and those memories send a chill down my spine. I clasp my hand around and make me believe it is getting warmer, but the wind is picking up.

I've made mistakes, I've been abrupt, I've been aggressive but I'm not sorry for them. I'm not sorry about anyone of them. Neither will I ever regret them. Tonight, when I find myself so vulnerable to the sadness of the living world, I've a scar on my face that reminds me of you. I am not some Brad Pitt or any intellectual genius, but I've had my piece of luck. I've had someones in my life and life has been fine. People come and people leave. I have cried over spilt milk but never like this.

My vulnerability freaks me out. Am I enlightened now or am hallucinated? Am I a go getter or a loser? Am I stupid optimist or a wise pessimist? Who am I? How does the ego matter anymore?

At times I see myself in you. I've disappointed so many people in life and that is why I'm not surprised when you disappoint me. I've been sarcasm personified so I'm not troubled when I receive it from you. I've drifted in to the moment, I've been blown by someone's presence and I've done things that I've regretted later on. But, I knew what shit I was getting into, I knew whom was I cutting loose; I knew what it was going to cost the other person and what was it going cost me. I only hope and pray, you know it too.

Wind has picked up and I'm still shivering. I wish I could feel your breath on my shoulder tonight, I wish your head could find comfort on my shoulder. I wish I could feel the rush of blood. Instead, I'm breathing slower and slower, senses are slowly disappearing in the dark night.

And all of sudden, I smile. For what, why, Am I thinking on the silence you kept then, am I thinking on that good night peck you gave on my neck? No, I'm not.

I'm accepting something. I think I'm falling hopelessly in love with you. I'm so sure, my phone isn't going to ring, my inbox is going to remain empty, my blog will not receive comments. I won't get that look, not yet. Not yet.

I'm ready to wait, I don't even remember when was it last that I gave enough time to something I so believed in. When was it last that I looked up the meaning of word, Patience. I don't deny this might just be yet another 'accident' that was waiting to happen, but I'm ready to take my chances. Knowing that you know nothing is to know a lot. No one said it was going to be easy, nothing is easy.

I think I'm going to run, I think I will stand by something that makes me believe I'm alive, I think I will take the roller coaster, Am on high one moment and next I'm down in hollows. It is all worth.

Thank you for making me dig so deep. It is only when you have let go of everything you are free to do anything. I think I'm. So could you be.

For all that you and I know, I would get hurt, bruised, fall right on my face and get up only to find you walk away with someone. But, Thank you for making me believe I'm still alive and can fall in love.

Thank you for trying to make me believe you don't love me, how bout convincing yourself or on the flip side running with idea.

I'm waiting, until we meet next, until you hold my stare little longer, until you slip your hand softly into mine, until you rest your head on my shoulder and close your eyes with trust, until this night passes by, chilling breeze slows down, I'm waiting until dawn breaks.

Neo

Coffee

I think I had forgotten how one makes a cup of coffee. Being subjected to a corporate lifesytle of working like a maniac, not knowing what person next to you is doing, not knowing if it is pouring or sunshine outside, I don't remember anything more than, pressing 'cappacino' button on the coffee machine, waiting for the electronic noise, pull of the machine pump to pour mix of milk and coffee in my paper cup and then throwing the plastic stirrer in and then with out even savoring the bittersweet aroma, just gulping down the mixture to keep me awake and working.

Well, I fell sick last Monday and ever since I'm free. But also subjected to taking care of my self. The feeling was pinching enough when I had to ride my bike for a kilometer to get my own medicines. But then, it is a package named 'life'. You can't pick and choose.

So, today late afternoon I felt like coffee. I stay in a house occupied by three bachelors. It took a while to get hold of the coffee powder, sugar and half a cup of milk. But then, to my happy realisation, I had not forgotten how one makes a cup coffee. A spoon of coffee and sugar, throw in a drop of milk and stir it real hard so it reduces to a fine paste that gets melted real smooth in the boiling cup of milk. Now just to make it more enjoyable, it starts pouring outside. I pour my cup of coffee and sit outside enjoying rain drops fall violently on my terrrace. The smell of coffee lingers little longer and triggers some bittersweet memories.

We all have memories, with coffee and why not. The drink was devised to have conversation, to have memories, to cherish a few more memories, to let lot happen over it. I remember, someone used to make coffee, for me. There was something bout it, I didn't quiet realize it the first time but...

The fine balance of milk n water, just as much bitter taste as required, tenderly sprinkled dots of coffee powder on top and a content smile n pleasant company to go with it. Sipping on it, enjoying it to the last drop and then handing over the compliment only when I couldn't 't resist but ask for one more. She would smile, tilt her face a bit, raise one eyebrow but eventually would give in to me. Then, taking the conversations further, laughing, giggling, fooling around, sometimes letting the milk spill over. Wasn't that a cup of coffee that all my five senses enjoyed?

Feels like it was just a few days back. But, matter of fact is, it has been a few years since we even spoke. I don't know which part of the world you might be in right now. I guess, we are all grown up and focused on lives now, our careers, our friends and may be also on someone special. And that is how it is suppose to be. But, I can't help be a typical guy for the time being and wonder at this delicate moment, if there was something about me, something that I did or said, anything at all, that someone still remembers me for? Maybe- maybe not. But, the thought brings a chuckle on my face n memories get me some company on a lonesome evening.

We are given just as much as we need, just as much time we need to spend, just as much we need to smile, just as much we need to fight and just as much we need to hurt. If we are to meet again, then how bout a cup of coffee, bittersweet, just about perfectly balanced?

Neo.

borrowed from Damien Rice

I couldn't find better words to put my heart in ...

there's still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
there's still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
it's still a little hard to say what's going on

there's still a little bit of your ghost your weakness
there's still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
you step a little closer each day
that I can´t say what´s going on

stones taught me to fly
love, it taught me to lie
life, it taught me to die
so it's not hard to fall
when you float like a cannonball

there's still a little bit of your song in my ear
there's still a little bit of your words i long to hear
you step a little closer to me
so close that I can´t see what´s going on

stones taught me to fly
love, it taught me to lie
life, it taught me to die
so it's not hard to fall
when you float like a cannon..
stones taught me to fly
and love taught me to cry
so come on courage
teach me to be shy
cause it's not hard to fall
and i don't wanna scare her
it's not hard to fall
and i don't wanna lose
it's not hard to grow
when you know that you just don't know

 

 

This one is for dad and Indian Airlines

 

"Come on let us go. We are already late." – Me

 

"Son, did you pray to God and did you take blessings from your grand-mom before you leave?" – Dad

 

Well, out there in Hyderabad, where I've been staying for over a half year, I don't remember praying, but I guess when you are leaving you house for 4pm flight at 2:45pm and the airport is good 30 kms away, it is a mighty good idea to pray and take all the possible blessings.

 

"Yeps, Dad. Done. Shall we?"

 

We get into the car. Dad gently starts the engine and looking through the rear view mirror he gets the car on the main road and we roll. Surprisingly, at 3 in noon, radio is playing all the old classics. I love all of those songs, but I couldn't concentrate on anything but the vehicles in front of our car and the ticking watch on the dashboard. Driving on Indian roads is no small feat. And it isn't anything short of personification of multitasking.

 

Dad, dials in a number while generally speaking to my mom who is in the back seat, squeezed gently with my overwhelming baggage. "Hello, Subodh, come to the regular junction. We'll pick you up."- Dad

 

I am oblivious to this telephone conversation as all I could see were vehicles in front of us and all I could hear was ticking sound of my dad's wrist watch. We get on the main road and dad keeps heading straight in the direction of 'sat-rasta junction.' Now, this is suicidal junction. At a small circle in the middle of residential area, seven two lanes broad roads meet. It is one chaos and can turn your travel into a hara-kiri mission. Perplexed I ask "Why didn't we hit out straight along the sea face? We going to be stuck."

 

"We picking up your uncle."

 

Ahh, I forgot. Folks were heading for a social gathering after dropping me off at the airport. Not bad, we still have chance to pull this one off. I tried reassuring my self. This self deception lasted only for a while, when we were stopped by bunch of volunteers, who informed us the road ahead is blocked for religious processions. Turn back, and take the fly over. We took one big turn, riding back to get on the fly over. Only to my worse surprise, the fly over was bottle-necked.

 

"Call up uncle, reroute him. We'll pick him up on way to Bandra, on the Cadle Road."

 

"Roger that dad. Done."

 

 

"Ohh, no we can't pick him up there, there is no right turn here. We can't take this road. Call him up again…"

 

"Dad, it is Sunday, let us just go. Law also needs some rest."

 

"Relax, Son. Don't get worked up. Think of another road to airport."

 

"At best (or may be at worst) I can think of driving. Taking the wheel. Can't come up with anything else."

 

"Relax."

 

 

Clock was ticking. 3:20 we were back where we started, ahhh well maybe with a head start of a couple of kilometers. I was pushing my dad to hit that gas paddle real hard but a balanced and careful person like him would hardly budge. I started blabbering. "I've got to be on that flight. I can't take a bus ride of 18 hours to Hyderabad. No ways."

 

"Son, I will make sure, you won't get on a bus."

 

But he didn't say I would get on the flight. I know, my dad could swipe his card and off I would go on another flight. No worries son. But, I wouldn't get my self on that flight. You can't blow money like that, can you? (If it is his money, why not? buttttttt)

 

 

Five more minutes and we picked up my sweetest uncle. I really love him. This isn't the place to say, 'he has been there through thick and thin.' But he has been. Gem of a good person. For the pleasant and originally jovial person he is, he couldn't help but comment on my attire. I was wearing a free Google t-shirt and ragged Bermuda.  I just wanted to be at ease, but…

 

"Do you think they let kids fly alone in their shorts?"

 

My dad chuckled and mom almost joined in the muffled laughter. I shot a stare back and said, "Not a good time to joke." (Not a good time to joke.Twice.) Who was I ? Some action hero stubbing fellow passengers while he was amidst intense brain storming?

 

 

Well, desperate times- desperate (shit) stuff comes out of your mouth.

 

There was this big dumper crawling ahead of us, leaving mud trail on the road. I so felt like getting a bazooka and blowing the shit off. I wished the car had one more gas paddle, right under my foot. Lot of wishful thinking.

 

 

Mom was pretty silent all this while, but not long before she broke ice by giving suggestion on possible ways to get to airport. I don't know, if the present situation was enough confusing… it just added some more spice to the story.

 

 

However, my dad is one hell of level headed guy. He had done his calculations and he was going to stick to this road. So he did. We took the last fly over and hit the high way. I was only hoping the speedometer will cross 70kmph and I will sneak into the check in line.

 

Well, the speedometer didn't cross 70 but I managed to sneak into the check in line, unfortunately wrong-one. Checking in for my flight had closed down half an hour back. It was 3:45 and I wanted in on 4pm flight. I begged and begged some more. Finally, the man behind the counter bugged. He put his initials down on my ticket and asked me to go to lady on counter 12. From counter 4 to 12, ran and ran hard. There she was, dressed neatly in the Air India saree. I managed innocent of my smile and put my case forward.

 

"Brits left India sixty years back but left this word 'Sorry' behind. Don't you think so?"

 

 

Well, me? I wonder why did they leave you behind, my dear lady?

 

But, I couldn't speak my mind. I looked down and muttered; "I understand I'm causing you a lot of inconvenience but …am sorry."

 

Like the first sorry wasn't enough, I managed to tick the lady off again.

 

"You, irresponsible youngsters, you book cheapest ticket on your dad's credit card and arrive ten minutes before the flight. Don't even bother to give me any excuse."

 

Alright. Lady. Now, man's patience has some limits. Specially when pushed enough by his own folks before-hand.  I said, "I know I'm late. I'm sorry although it wasn't really my fault. Please, listen me out… my plane is still on the ground and so am I. I got to be on that plane. Can you please do something about it. I have to get on the plane."

 

 

She scribbled something on my ticket and like a goddess; she blessed me with my boarding pass. I rushed to the next counter, again same story, but this time the lady was little more kind. And by then, I had mastered my cock and bull story. I handed over the documents, gave some bull shit and got through. I still remember the spark in the woman's eyes when I passed on my true-lies to her. She bought it. I was on. My luggage was taken in and I was assigned a seat.

 

I rushed to security. As if I was some terrorist, the policeman had to go through all of the 8 pockets of my Bermuda. Got pass that and made a dash for gate seven.

 

In that hallway sprint, I realized someone is shouting out "Hey, mister…mister."

 

And by the time I turned around, the flight in-charge lady was on her feet almost ready to run after me. I skidded a foot or two and stopped. I was gasping for air, but I managed to ask her, "What's wrong? Let me go. All checks done, I need to catch my flight it is leaving in two more minutes."

 

"Yeah, sure. If I don't stamp your boarding pass, you aren't going anywhere son."

 

"Gees, sure. Please, stamp it. Stamp it all over."

 

I'm sure, I gave shock of her life to the flight attendant when I got in and asked, "Is this flight going to Hyderabad?"  I mean has anyone ever asked this? I doubt. I was just too worked up.

 

She said it is. Finally, I could breath easy. I pushed through all the people to grab my seat. I walked down all the way till the toilet but could find 2C. Came back, started all over again, it runs from 8A to 30E, but no 2C. Doom.

 

I ran back to the lady at the front of the aircraft and on the way when I passed executive class, I spotted 2C. In fumbled tone, I muttered; "Emm M'am if I'm not wrong, this one here is 2C right? That is my seat right?"

 

She smiled and said "Yes." Immediately, she took a couple of spaces to help me with my luggage.

 

Olla Amigos, all of a sudden from a cheapster dressed in rags, I was first class.

 

It was time to sit back, put my i-pod on and order for a coffee with fresh cream.

 

This one is truly to my dad, Air India and something that is beyond us, that got me through today.

 

 

Don't get all that worked up, stay calm, things happen. They always happen, but do find a moment to have a laugh, maybe at yourself – maybe at the situation around.

 

 

Neo