Apocryphal Reality

Hats

2011-11-07T22:53:00.002+05:30

Once Upon Time Far Out West

I can hardly wear any more accessories than absolutely required; my German arm-band is the only exception. Precisely the reason why I have never worn hats, rings, chains and what have you.

Living in California, I have repeatedly debated adding a Hat to that exception list. No Luck yet.

Walking around at the Union Square, I found myself in a Hat shop, looking at a couple standing next to me try hats on. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

He would put a hat on and look at her and the mirror. She would tilt her head sideways and then straighten it, pout her lips and then nod. So it went on until he ran out of hats to try on and they left.

That incident was enough for me to picture my little romantic hat shopping escapade. Simple things about settling down, going shopping together, valuing other person’s opinion, normally buying more expensive items than you otherwise would, attaching a story or an incident …essentially a memory to most of the pieces of clothes you pick up. All of it just seemed too romantic to ignore.

Ever since that day, I have worn that foolish romantic hat that has driven me to live that hat shopping experience. The other day, walking down on Height, I couldn’t resist the temptation to walk right into the shop and try a few hats on.

It may be extremely insignificant and fade away in the avalanche of new experiences, but

When you pointed at the pink hat and asked me to try it. Then you adjusted the black hat I was trying on and nodded. Looked at me as I tried a few more and smiled.

I just lived that one moment; I had been looking for all along.

I believe the life hardly ever sets up a dinner table for you with a neat clean white table cloth, pristine silverware, dinner plates and wine glasses. You have to assemble one single item at a time by yourself for that dinner with someone. As aware and cognizant I am of this reality, it won’t stop me from a being a die-hard romantic.

And if nothing else, I would have had almost bought that hat with you.

Neo

Midnight In Paris

2011-06-17T12:51:00.000+05:30

An average evening, in fact a below average one - with an initial misunderstanding about tasty Indian food in a crummy little Indian restaurant versus a fancy mediterranean place on the waterfront. Not hard to imagine we ended up at a crummy little Indian joint. Then a fumbling walk by trapped sea water in Foster City and eventually by the bay in San Mateo. A little later, while I sat down staring at the bay and she preferred to sit in car, the evening wasn’t looking up either.

But then we roll into this desserts place which sells super high calorie sweets but absolutely delicious if I may add. This place is just by the movie hall and I say, “So do you want to catch a movie.” One thing to the other and we end up at the movie hall. Midnight in Paris is the only one we can watch. Woody Allen and set in Paris, I think twice and then she buys the tickets. Least I could do was to get the popcorns. (They are extremely high priced but I refrained from commenting and am glad that I did. Because I know, perhaps you do too, where that would have gone)

Walk into a completely empty movie hall as if it were a personal screening. I can’t decided if I am happy that a few more folks walked in before the movie started or I would rather have it other way round.

This is a movie set in Paris, where a successful Hollywood script writer begins to search for his inspiration to complete his novel while he is out freeloading with her fiancée’s family. .The family is there on a business visit. He has a poetic aspiration of living in a French attic with sunlight glazing through the roof top and she wants a Malibu mansion.

Every night the protagonist (Own Wilson) slips into his illusional golden era of Paris, where he spends time with Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Picasso. He meets a woman in his figments of imagination – Adriana, who one day travels to even older Paris… one that existed in 1890’s. In search of a more surreal, and poetically beautiful Paris.

That is where perhaps I realized, Romanticism flirts with the denial. At times in my mind, denial always takes my romanticism to the bed. Only to wake up next morning for that walk of shame….some times just until the door, sometimes until that phone call, a blog post or a long hard stare at the horizon.

Sitting in this tiny little, ill ventilated studio of mine, in one of the vibrant cities in the world, I think of my time in Paris and my depreciating capital of memories…. And I wonder

Oh well. This is life. It is a bit dissatisfying and probably because it is now and it is a present. My Present, a choice that I make or perhaps made…

I don’t want to look back on my time too quick too soon

Neo

Got to Love The Swiss

2011-05-20T22:15:00.000+05:30

8:13am : Colin drops me off at the Mountain View caltrain station

8:16am : I briskly walk towards the ticket vending machine

8:16am : I am interrupted by this graceful old man, wearing a hat, overcoat and gold-rim glasses, with a big suitcase on his left and his wife to his right.

“Exkhuse me, can I buy tickets for the airport from this machine?”

He asked a question, and I heard

“Oh, you look like one of them. Locals! Who spend half their life either waiting for the caltrain or on the caltrain. Maybe you know something about this overpriced Californian public transport system.”

On your day-5 in a fairly new place, being asked for help as if you were a local (although, I see how he could mistake me for a local – there a ton of Indians in the bay, a bit too much for me as well), is like an honor, is like a certification. I felt a sense a obligation and pride to help the man out. Emm and also, the fact that he was old and was with his wife and spoke in a strange language with her.

So, I tried helping them, the machine won’t accept the bills.

(cutting all the mundane details out > we move to a different vending machine) The train is expected at 8:23am

8:20am : I am third in the row to get my tickets. Old man doesn’t seem in a hurry at all. I wonder when his flight is leaving.

8:21am: Old man taps me on my back and shows me a woman trying to buy ticket from the same machine. Makes his point very clear that he wasn’t wasting anyone’s time, the machine is actually at fault. I calmly node in agreement

8:22am: We (myself, old man and wife) get our tickets and now we wait for the train.

“What language did you converse in earlier on?”

“French” …. “But we are NOT French”

“Oh, so you are Canadians ehh”

“Oh, no no, not at all. We are Swiss.”

It is that oh my God, I am so sorry moment. I can’t do much but just deflect my embarrassment by asking some other question…one of my favorite … “So you must know German as well”

“Man nodes, in pride. Naturlisch, Ich kann ja Deutwesch” (Offcourse, I speak German)

“Na ja, schweiz Deutch oder Hoch”(oh well, Swiss German or High-German)

He looks at me surprised and amused and leans back a little and proudly say “Bidas” (Both)

He mentions how he speaks a lot languages, how he is headed to Vegas for the weekend and so on.

8:23am

Train approaches and I ask, “Soll ich mit dem gepack hilfen?” (Should I help you with the bags)

Perhaps I should have said “Darf Ich?” (May I) or “Lass mich hilfen” (allow me to help you)

Anyways, he respectfully denies help. And as the train approaches, puts a hand on my shoulder and whispers

“Wir sind schon Alt aber noch nicht so alt” and Laughs, while tapping my back

“We are already old but not so old”

Neo

Recycle

2011-03-11T18:58:00.001+05:30

Up until a century ago, the word didn’t even exist. Even if it did, I wonder how many were aware of its meaning. And then slowly it gained momentum. Earlier on it was a fad, crazy hippies and poets believed in recycling and rest just made fun of them. And now, let us just say masses are taking it seriously or at least trying to.

The whole concept of Recycling is based off of a fact that resources are limited and they will run out sooner rather than later. Therefore, recycle used articles in order to conserve the restricted natural resources.

I say why not apply the fundamental to our emotions. Let us recycle. Let us recycle those emotions for more than their worth to make the best out of what life has thrown at us. If in some strange philosophical way it is true that each heart has a certain number of beats assigned to it before it stops, what is to stop us from concluding that human mind is programmed only to feel a certain kind and number of emotions. Say n and then..what happens after that…

How often have you felt betrayed, cheated, annoyed, helpless, frustrated, scared, worried, beat….. and how often have you felt victorious, thrilled, charged, excited, motivated, doubtless, satisfied, contend, happy. Why not recycle our emotions for more than what they are worth. I know you can’t make a premium bond paper out of a trash of newspaper material. However, shouldn’t it be possible to go from frustration to calm, from neutral to contend and from emptiness to a smile?

Why don’t we recycle? Why can’t we recycle?

Neo

In Retrospect ...

2011-01-09T09:36:00.001+05:30

“Dude, I learned Corp Finance in retrospect. Straining my brains to recollect what Professor Shockley said or what gestures did he use to elaborate this.”

“Yup, it used to be great back when I was working for you guys.”

“It was just the last week; we sat out here on the cool breeze starring at the Pacific.”

There are hundred more of such sentences that I’ve said and perhaps thousand more that I haven’t in the past few days. Sometimes I get a feeling that my life might be going from best to worse as I only tend to come across things that aren’t wee bit less desirable than the ones I passed.

Or, my life is at a pace where I only tend to truly appreciate things in the rear-view mirror and while I’m at it, new things are just passing me by.

Or, I guess my life is just same old plain vanilla and only when I relive it through selective memories, I pep it up with some chocolate sauce, orange flavored wafer-sticks laid out on silverware

Or, something wrong with my wiring up in my head. Wherein, I’m addicted, every now and then to escape from my present I stray off into wishful past where I can manipulate things a little or maybe more.

A perceptive friend brought it to my attention that I need to stop feeling too sorry for myself, suck it up and get a move on. I quickly swallowed rest of my wishful memories and stories, quickly agreed with my friend and thanked my friend for the advice.

I truly appreciate the advice…..in retrospect.

But I really want to fix (if something is wrong), won’t I need to go back in the past to find the root of it?

Neo

Sprinklers

2010-09-05T01:11:00.000+05:30

These tiny little nozzles that spring out of the ground at their preset times and circle around sprinkling water to maintain the greens, continue to amuse me.

I’ve passed them on the side of the walkway while running in the morning and enjoyed whatever little cool sprinkling of water-drops they had to offer. There have been times where I’ve walked out well dressed for an occasion and dodged them to keep my clothes dry.

At night or early morning, depending on how you perceive it – I’ve stumbled on them. Just the other night walking back from some place, wobbly, tipsy, floating through the walkway as I was making it back home, I just stood and starred at them in the background of tiny night-lamps that lid my way back home.

How I perceived these sprinklers just like the ones in my mind, sprinkling controlled drops of memories every now and then in my head. How those sprinkles had different impact on myself. Sometimes I enjoyed and embraced them, how sometimes I dodged the bitter memories and how I just stood there amused caressing some beautiful letdowns, how I cherished those butterflies in my stomach.

Except for those sprinklers have a schedule and ones in my mind, I’ve no control over.

Neo

Story So Far …

2010-08-13T05:37:00.000+05:30

It wasn’t the long goodbye as I arrived at the Mumbai International Airport, only to find out that a bunch of Gujjus (and I meant at least a few hundreds) have come to see their five friends off. Gate ‘C’ of the international airport was more crowded than Dadar station platform (A local-train station in Mumbai) in the anticipation of Virar local.

Mom, dad, brother and my brother’s closest friend made their way to the airport and I didn’t have space, time or the peace of mind to talk to them before getting on the flight. I couldn’t help but remember the last time I left India for Germany, when my mom’s eyes were moist as I hugged her, dad with his ‘take care of yourself Son’ pat on the back and brother overjoyed as there will be no Big Brother around… at least I had the time to soak all of this in. This time around was the most hurried and stressful Goodbye. And I fear it will be some time before I see them again…

Silver-lining was that all my baggage got through without any additional charged and I came out see my folks for one more time. My joy and peace somehow reflected in their smiles as well. And once those glass doors automatically shut, I turned around and doubled up towards immigration counters.

After all the formalities, I found myself sitting in the cramped window seat of the Air France flight to Paris, the same one I must have taken a few years back to reach Germany. I tried but I couldn’t be as psyched as I would have liked to be.

..Morning touchdown at Charles D’Gaule Airport and I didn’t find myself stunned with the magnitude of the airport or amused by the French beauty. I walked around all over the airport while waiting for my connection to Boston. I realized that until Europe it was a familiar territory, beyond this point every inch of the space, ground and society was alien, was foreign. As my flight to Boston took off, the blinker started showing flight route over the Atlantic Ocean and my mind wondered in the exact opposite direction… Berlin, Blackforest, Mumbai, Hyderabad, B’lore, New Delhi.
It was a long and boring flight but eventually we saw the Boston skyline. I felt excited for a second as we descended over the by towards Logan international airport.
I had pictured this very moment in many different ways in my mind. I had thought of making it to the land of opportunities, making something out of myself, starting afresh, making it big and so on. However, all of these thoughts and feelings of excitement had abandoned me and all I was concerned was get my luggage, clear the customs and make it to the last connection. A week later I still think about it and feel, it is one of those brief moments in life that offer you more thrill as you wait behind the curtains rather than being at the front line of it.

After three flights, two bus rides and a cab ride, I finally made it to Z-1, Fountain Park – my new home.

Scattered furniture, stinking house, two strangers occupying it as stop gap arrangement, dusty and dirty room, toilet dirtier than public facilities greeted me with door flung open. Aakarsh walking up in his bermudas, with a widest smile on his face, promise of beer in his smile and joy of meeting a friend saved the day for me at the end of 35 hours journey.

Neo

Incidental

2010-07-15T16:42:00.000+05:30

Downing the last sip of beer, Alan assured me; “Brotha, an airhostess, a model and a doctor. I will date them. And who knows when one might find their kind.”

“Air hostess?,Oh God Me Too. Why not. But, isn’t that being over ambitious even for you ?” – I said as I chugged the beer.

Kept the change back in my pocket, gulped a big one down and tried listening to what my friend was shouting in my ears. Drowning music, tiny smoke clouds floating over and lack of space and partner to dance… and I felt for n-th time, ‘Oh Yes, same old 10D. I might as well be listening to ‘Lemmon Tree’ – nothing ever happens.’

However, that evening went by a bit differently. Quite spontaneously but strangely I danced with her. After a while when we extended hands to formal introduce each other, it was only matter of putting two and two together for me to figure out that she is the Flight Attendant. Deductive logic used for some other discussion but here I was shaking legs to deafening music at a local club with her.

Now, from a spy to a postman, from an astronaut to a clerk, from a painter to a judge all are potential great human beings but share different Professions and hence share a different aura. And owing to Alan’s conversation, it felt reasonable to be thrilled about profession of the person I had just met.

There are a few times when you feel and act much younger than you are. You ought to remember those.

For what it’s worth, sitting on the pavement - drunk and hearing the personalized fasten your seat belts announcement was unique and will bring smile every time board flight.

It was only a while later at an after-party that I learned that she was also an interesting person that I would have like to meet again.

Neo

Keine Pause !

2010-05-12T01:42:00.001+05:30

She is putting on the make up. Mascara, lip gloss and the pink lipstick, some gloss on the cheek and now come out the heart shaped danglers for her ear. Her hair tied back and nails painted pink, she reaches deep inside her bag and pulls out a costume and wig. It is a nurse’s costume and a red wig.

No it isn’t my one of my sex fantasies; she is getting dressed – front of my eyes, right across the aisle, here in a train bound to Karlsruhe, Germany.
Not the thing that was on top of my mind when I woke up two days back but hey I’m not complaining.

A couple of days back, minutes away from my 26th birthday I walked anonymously in the crowd, nursing myself and my drink as well. Come 12 O’clock nothing changed but I got a year older. Boom.

Made my way back to my apartment and passed out. Birth days have a way of making you feel special but old. I think the price is well paid. Made it to work, dressed in a shirt my friends bought me and hashed out plans to watch Iron Man 2 and make it in time for happy hours at TGIF. Turn of events (which I shall not delve in to) at work just bolstered the idea of having fun as soon and as much as I could.

Got hammered at TGIF, cruised to a theatre to watch Iron Man 2 and then back home to
drink some more and pack. I had a flight to catch in about 3 hours for Germany.
Roomie came down to see me off, offered that I should take one of his jackets and I obliged. Made it to the airport and found out that some of colleagues were travelling on the same flight. Well, it is always nice to see people you know and that too unexpectedly but there are times when you just want to be by yourself. At least I’d though about thinking something and the thought of not able to do that thinking was annoying me.

A lot ran through my mind, a year back I was outside the gates, seeing some one off on the same flight, the promise to board the same flight in a year, now boarding the same flight but for a different destination, touching down in Frankfurt and then making my way to Black Forest, to my friends and host family, watching the sunset from that glass roof of mine, beer binging, football and jogging in the forest, and enjoying German bread and cheese. Sunk in nostalgia, I downed my drink on board EK525 and tried getting as much sleep as I could enroute Dubai.

After bidding adieu to folks from my organization, I was truly by myself and kicked, because when those monster wheels come out for the second time from the belly of the Boeing, I would be where I really want to be. Deutschland.

After two plastic meals, three beers and 7 hours in the back of the flight between two hefty Germans, I was more than kicked to get rolling. I got through immigration control, took a shuttle to the train station and I was off to Wiesbaden. When the train got in, I wasn’t sure if she would be able to make it to pick me up. But she did. She was there, in a black jacket, short hair, excited, searching for me.

Meike, I had met her four years back in Germany and then a few years back in India. We were in Delhi, Bangalore and Mumbai at the same time but interestingly, we only managed to meet in Mumbai. I’m sure none thought of when we would meet next. What was so great about meeting again was that a lot has changed in and around but it was still very exciting to see her.

We spent the evening sitting on the balcony sipping German beer and catching up about what had passed by in the last year and a half. As the German summer draws closer evenings are stretched longer. It is simply priceless to enjoy the evening glow that normally lasts for half an hour, experience it stretch over a couple of hours. In a short while, evening gave way to cloudless night and led us to local pubs for some drinks and night life.

Like a kid in the sports shop, I wanted to see and experience as much as I could in as little time as I could. Eventually, we made our way back home by midnight.
And after two days of travelling, partying, absorbing, I finally took a pause.
Saying Goodbye to her this morning was equally dramatic, the train door closing automatically and both of struggling to keep it open so long as the wheels started rolling. Something inside you just shrinks and twists, when you say Goodbye without knowing when you shall meet the people you love again. It was the same feeling inside me.

Soon a few other swirling thoughts took over as the wheels started rolling. In addition to watching the mascara, lipstick, costume and wig come out, I was thinking of meeting my host family. And my mind was travelling faster to the destination than the fast paced Deutsche Bahn.

A Year Gone By

2010-03-22T00:05:00.002+05:30

Most days of our lives are insignificant. They pass without any stress, without registering any significant memories. But a few days leave their mark, forge a memory that is hard to wipe out, leave you with sweet-bitter taste and those are the ones you remember. Today is one of them …

I’m awful at remembering birthdays and anniversaries, yes, even with Facebook, I find it tough to keep pace. However, I remember, this day last year, I woke up late than I had wanted and shrugged of the hangover. I pulled out my favourite sky blue shirt and dark blue pants to go with it, crisply ironed. Polished shoes, laptop bag and jet-washed black pulsar, occasion – a travel writing workshop.

I love writing but that is not why I went there. No one can teach you how to write, but they can tell you what to write, where to sell it and they can put you in touch with people with the interests as yours. And as a matter of fact the workshop did put me in touch with someone I would have otherwise never met.

I knew half the people in the room, half of the remaining weren’t remotely approachable and I don’t remember the rest. But it really didn’t matter once She casted a look and offered me a seat and then blatantly copying her email and then graduating to ask her number and eventually asking her out follow, which is why I know remember today last year…

What followed after that deserves another post and a different platform.
A year later, a lot has changed. There is small real estate permanently booked in my brain for the beautiful time spent and lasting memories forged. What hasn’t is- I still don’t know what I expect from each day and each new experience I am about to embrace. I’m equally clueless about what next six months of my life would bring, where would I be next year this day, whom will I celebrate my next birthday with.
And as in-flight light go dim, rubber burns the tarmac, I feel that jerk and push back in my seat & my horizon tilts, I just soak it all in…what has passed and fill my lungs with a deep nostalgic breath for what awaits on the other side

Is it Just Me?

2010-03-12T18:46:00.000+05:30

When you are waiting for a moment, waiting for a decision, or waiting for someone or just waiting for something to happen…while pretty life stealthily passes you by and all you can focus on is the painstaking wait and a few run of the mill hurdles which now all of sudden seems like mountains.

You tend to deploy day dream, self consoling and all other forms of distraction to get you by. And there is always the classic remedy, looking back at your past,

In my case, the long walk by marine drive in the stormy weather before results, deep breath before jumping into the sea prior to the sea swimming competition, clearing of throat before answering the German official at the embassy, the pause before asking her ‘so what do you say?,’ getting on the flight after a sleepless night and looking out of the window for the reassuring sunrise…

You tell yourself, it has always worked out. You had no way but one to go and doors opened, people nodded, you were able to be at the place at the right time, so it will be…

I wonder, if in situations such as these we only tend to think of the times when ‘we did actually make it’ and filter out all the rest or did all of you always made it…you know when it mattered to you the most…

Neo

Boys To Men To Boys

2010-01-03T18:21:00.003+05:30

She rang the bell - adjusting her hair and her dress while waiting impatiently to see his cheerful face through the grilled door. Dressed in formal trouser and shirt, he left the pasta on a mild flame and rushed to the door to let her in.

Since evening he had been busy cooking or at least trying. Garlic bread, mushroom soup etc was ready and now was the main course – pasta with white sauce. Earlier he had bough her favourite ice-cream and kept it in the freezer. He had carefully decked up his drawing board with an apt tabletop and set up a nice table with a lit candle on the terrace with two out of place Neelkamal chairs to go with the table. Wine glasses were missing but a Sulley Merlot was there and he had managed to mine out his swiss-knife to open it just at the right time.

They sat under the well laid out stars and pleasant moonlight, with flickering candles. She didn’t expect one bit of this, considering she knew, he has always been ‘let us order-in guy.’ She blushed as she gulped down the first sip of her wine and in return he smiled back.

As the clock drew closer to 12, she felt like a drive. A long one. He proposed, “How does Mumbai sea face sound?.” Without a delay of a minute, candles were blown, drawing board brought in, vessels dumped in the sink, socks n shoes and thud of the main door and her cars engine came to life.

Couple of hours later, they were at the sea face, watching the fire-works as they bid adieu to a great year together and got ready to reel in a new one. Phones rang, kept ringing, he picked one out of those calls. And they were off to his friends house party. ‘Hawaiian,’ it seems was the theme. Hosting couple opened the door and these two sober souls mixed with the rest.

She nodded, “You could drink. I will drive.” He smiled and obliged his friends. Shots, shooters and hugs followed. They left the party in a while, she drove this time.

On the way yet another call, yet another party at the farmhouse…they turned the wheel.
Next morning, he woke up earlier, milk and coffee was hard to find, he managed a litre of mineral water for her and they hit the road again. It was time to go home, their respective homes.

II

Rubbing eyes he woke up to see it was already 9. Fighting off the hangover from the 30th, he rushed to the washroom. Clock was already breathing down his neck. “We are supposed to leave. NOW.”-Dad.

He rushed, got ready the best he could, prayed a little and rushed to the car. Took out the parallel parked car, plugged in some floyd and waited for mom and dad to come out.
Drove up to the beach house. Picked up some beer on the way.

He hung around with all the uncles and aunties and reminiscing the old days. Later he walked up to he sun-set point and spent the whole evening there, trying to put the pieces together since he last came to this place.

From playing and cheating, staying up, ghost stories, childhood girlfriend, driving cars, to goofing up, flicking beers to father and son conversations, uncles’ advice; everything cluttered his mind. Beyond a point, he just pressed the speed dial and rest is personal.

With the setting Sun, there some strange peace and content in his heart, there was a joy of having made it to this place eventually. There was some excitement to welcome the new year and spend the first day of it at the beach. Spend the bright sunny day at the beach with people he grew up with, sip on a few beers, swim out in the sea and take a long walk on the beach with his father.

When the clock struck 12, mom and dad were the first people he hugged. Probably there was a lot going on in his mind but; “It is gonna be a great year” were the words that made it through the vocal cord. And he hugged them tighter.

Next day he drove back with his parents, messaged near and dear ones and spent a peaceful evening with them.

III

They both walked into the new years with some resolutions, thoughts, decisions, preferences etc…and by the time the parties were over some of them were already on the back-burners.
From the time they could remember ‘partying’, there was something different to each new years, and this year was no exception.

Boys to Men to Boys and so it continued…

Neo

Weddings

2009-11-25T19:36:00.000+05:30

These days there has been a new addition to seasonal events one needs to keep an eye out for. Now, in addition to F1, European football, Tennis; you need to keep an eye out for the wedding season. This season is all the more vital for ones stepping up from just there to feast on to free deserts to armatures or rather to bes.

I for one didn’t attend these weddings for deserts. It was my best friend from college getting married and last of the first cousins from Mum’s side tying a knot. Friend, I believe the best a man could be. Polite, gentleman, tall, fair, tennis player, avid photographer and latest in the league of Investment bankers, going by his popularity from college days, there was only one way his demand curve was moving – UP. On the other-side, my cousin, honest, candid, most caring grandson amongst all of us and full of life.

However, I found myself more thrilled booking tickets and spending, emm all put together 30 hours on the train (Indian Train in general sleeper class without berth) than I did being at the wedding or the reception. Sometimes, I feel the crowd and the pundits, the vidhis and all the flood lights take the delicate human touch away from the wedding. And it becomes an event. These events, taught me a few things, here is lowdown on those learning

Murphy’s Rule is the only one that has no exception

I travelled 17 hours on a train to make it for the first wedding. It was very refreshing to see my brother come pick me up. We rode back home from the sea face. Amazing ride. I’d to be at the wedding in a couple of hours, I had sumptuous lunch and took a little nap. All was cool until I found that none of my formal pants fit me anymore. Lesson 1 If you haven’t worn your formal pants in two years, don’t even bother tyring them out. You are already to fat for those.

I consoled myself, my newly bought jeans with a crisp ironed shirt will fit the bill. There was no other way. In this whole trial and error business, I’d lost time and I’d to request my younger bro for his bike. He happily obliged and mentioned on my way back I should fill some petrol. It is a lil low. Hardly did I know that a lil low fuel tank would only last me 500meters. I’d to push the bike for 2kms before finding a petrol station. Lesson 2 When your siblings hand over their vehicles there is always a caveat.

Just as when I thought things can’t get any worse, after filling up petrol, bike just refused to come to life. Certainly, some foreign particles apart from petrol would have made their way in combustion chamber as I squeezed the very last drop of petrol. Drenched in sweat, 15 minutes later bike sprung back to life. I’d already missed the barat, I changed course to head directly to the reception. Huffing and puffing, I made it there, merely to find out that my D-SLR camera doesn’t have memory card in it. Where is it? Dad’s locker. Why, he had borrowed the camera and per him, card shouldn’t be stored inside.

Phenomenon continued a day later as well, when our so called ‘contact’ in railways failed to convert our waiting-list tickets to confirm for the train journey of 500kms taking 10 hours. Thankfully my dad had a confirm berth, I had to be as comfortable as one could be on the floor. Not much, there were a few cockroaches, footwear that people take off and go up and sleep on their bunk-berths and it was freezing cold.

Just as we reached Ahemadabad,(for the second wedding) a car came to pick us up and as we drove into the porch of my aunt’s bunglow, I saw a stage, decorated chairs, big tables and candles that were now giving up to the blowing wind. Looking at it closer, there were stubs, broken glasses, messed up chairs and empty bottles. So, you see while I was twisting and turning, unable to sleep, I missed out on a party. “Party, yeah. It was excellent. I left early but people were so well dressed. These girls these days, I’m telling you son…they were…” I’d to stop my mum right there. It was worse as it is.

Network, charm but don’t even think of dating

It is as tricky as it can be. Weddings, you dress up in best of your clothes (at least that is the convention), you’ve drinks some times, and you’ve best of the dining and you don’t pay for it at all. So, I hope you are getting what I’m trying say here… You meet girls, women…whatever…that isn’t tricky. What is tricky is, if you get talking to someone, perhaps exchange numbers, move to a corner, get a desert together it might just be frowned on a lil, if not frowned, certainly noticed and made note of in elephant memory of all the aunties and uncles adjusting their glasses over their nose bridge. However, if some old aunty comes by and keeps a hand on your shoulder and points to a girl, “how is she?” it is absolutely fair. It is considered normal is these well-wishers simply walk up to your parents and begin match making talks right their. Interesting.

Sorry for the digression, but the point am trying to make is, weddings are about networking and charming, don’t think of going out on a date with anybody you meet at the wedding a day or two after the event. (Trust me it is a topic of a different post all together)

Lesson 3 Carry your business cards. A lot of them. B’cos when you say you work for Google, they are going to want to have a card.

Lesson 4 Every-dam-body is out there to make and impression, impress, charm. Play along as a debate or elocution competition. There is no winning or losing.

Your aren’t PMSing your are Dreaming

If you are there are the wedding reception and one moment you are laughing and enjoying praise from oldies and next moment you are ready to flee the scene, OR a moment you are telling your sibling that what you will do different at your wedding and the next you are dead-drop silent, one moment you feel high and in the thick of things and second you are lost, don’t worry. You aren’t you know….

You are just dreaming, calculating odds, planning, retrospecting, thinking of her, how you shouldn’t have let go off her, how you are going to say it, are you going to find anyone, isn’t it a lot of money for just one day of celebration, you think of your revised hair-line, pay package, growth path, waistline, parents, holiday destinations, you are also checking out passing by pretty looking women. I mean come on, cut your brain and mind some slack, you either watch football and sip beers or work on excel sheets and powerpoints or snooze all weekends long. How much can your mind take?

To be continued…

Wake up Karan

2009-10-12T09:33:00.001+05:30

Now, I wasn’t sure what the whole raving was all about until I went to a theatre to watch the movie ‘Wake up Sid,’ “finally” as some of my friends would like to add.
In half an hour, it was clear to me as to why some of my friends (girls precisely) were raving about it, with Mr. Kapoor and Mr. Khanna, I wonder if they’d noticed anything else. For the rest like me, the movie was an utter drag.

It is a story of a typical Mumbaiya spoilt brat Sid and people around him. Beginning from the fun college days to the highly clichéd last day party, the results, the enlightenment, a few twists n a few turns, a bit of hard-working, fun-loving, charming, problem solving chocolate heroism, and wollah…viewer is finally relieved it is all over.

Don’t hold your breath as the movie doesn’t have any surprises, it proceeds just as you and I would think it would proceed. We all have watched Farhan Akhtar’s Lakshya and it is hard not to compare this half baked product with Lakshya. Unlike Lakshya, this one strays a lot from it centre theme (or at least what we were brought to think was the central idea of waking Sid up). By the time movie reaches its climax, I couldn’t help but wonder if the previous 10 reels were rolled for the romance to take place or was it to show how a boy grows into a man and finds his destiny and blah blah…

Sid and Aisha, the two main characters share most of the spotlights, however, the focus keeps shifting from one to the other and the idea of waking Sid up seems to get lost in all of this. Some scenes are so lame and so drag that all I could think was ‘I would love to have all the tees Ranbir has worn in the movie.’ However, some of the scenes are really high intensity and very well shot such as one where Aisha(Konkana Sen) returns home all jumbled up and fuming and Sid empties a bottle of water on her head. This one captures the sensuous moment between Sid and Ayesha and trust me Aisha looks nothing short of stunning.

Music is pleasant but nothing that sticks on beyond the exit door of the movie hall. Costumes are very well designed / picked and especially, the locations that are chosen to shoot are refreshing, realistic and any Bombay lover would be able to associate with them.

A subtle love story springing to life in the last moment, romancing the city through the lens of camera, signature Dad played by Anupam Kher, power pack performance by miss Sen and eye-pleasing and natural Ranbir Kapoor, the movie is solid but only in bits n pieces. Bollywood’s old recipe of ‘a lil bit of everything’ has spoilt this one.

Neo

Places Things People and me

2009-08-26T23:59:00.000+05:30

With every forward step towards the paved entrance of that plush three start hotel, my mind was teleporting in the past to the bright sunny day when I rolled in on my bike into the same entrance. Crisp iron shirt just like one I’ve on right now, my backpack, formal shoes and so on. Back here for a business…
As interesting as it could be, we walk into the same restaurant and grab a table right opposite the aisle. I stop for a second, turn my head ..chuckle then go silent and respond to other persons comment “Yeah, indeed this place is nice. Good ambiance.”

“Yes, I’ve been here before. And when I started my day this morning I didn’t imagine I would be here today. And there is more to this place. And I want to just call this meeting off and probably get hold of Jack Daniels while it rains and pours outside. I would much rather have you leave me to myself for this evening.”…. I don’t say.
Well I didn’t smile as much today, I didn’t have anything smart to say, I didn’t have my bike today, I didn’t have anyone to offer a ride today….I just sat down, discussed, took notes, shook hands and slammed the door shut when I got into the cab and asked him to roll.

Cleaned my cupboards the other day… found cards, tickets and all of the stuff that you promise yourself to get rid of one day but that day never comes. That day still didn’t come

Opened this hand-bag which was hidden somewhere on antique, got hold of an electric kettle, a cooker and lot of other stuff…I hadn’t used in a while…it wasn’t my stuff but I had it.

Had gone out with my roomie for supper, he tells me bout his trip to Malaysia and the flight delays thanks to weather. Interestingly he has a story, story that happens to some of us while we drag our hand luggage around waiting room, browsing internet, window shopping or just looking at the runway. He met someone and spent the whole day chit-chatting. Pretty girl…I guess. He smiled to register his accord. “Dude, you know what, I know my next destination. I’m going there. What say we take a small holiday down there…. “…I smile - gulp the last sip of lemonade – look up and smile.

In Dublin, my friend would ask me, “So what’s the stody?”

Mine is same as anyone else’s….a story with a twist…

I try to force one more smile…

Neo

Life and After-life of a Lie

2009-05-05T14:34:00.000+05:30

False statement deliberately presented as being true- and so is a lie defined. However, we definitely find the need to devise newer, gullibly streetwise, fast-paced, modern day definitions for a lie and its categories.

“No this is the only way to do it.” You know there is other way too but this one you think is the best one for the other person in question. That isn’t really a lie, it for their own benefit. There is nothing bad about it.

“Was it good?”…emmm “yeah…great.” Not lying again, someone just keeping someone’s heart or someone’s ego.

Sorry, we’ve plans…Can’t get leaves right now…No, I didn’t go out for a movie… Yes, I took my medicines… No, I’ve not touched alcohol in last three months… Yes, I’m off any dope… No, I didn’t cheat on you… There is nothing between us… Yes, everything is FINE. I’m FINE…. I was at a friend’s house studying… Yes, Sir, order was dispatched three days back…etc all of them just whole bunch of lies. Some are personal, some are professional lies, some are not-to-be-rude lies, some are saving-private-grace lies, some are self-dignity minus lies, some convenient and some are coward lies and some are they will never find the truth lies.

They say lies are short-lived and I do agree. A lie has a very short life span. It breeds the moment mind starts wondering how the truth could be bent and manipulated, sometimes a lie flourishes in split seconds or grows steady as mind continues to plot and improvise. However, moment you spit it out, it isn’t a lie anymore. It is the reality. It is its afterlife. A lie reborn as a truth. Because, the lie is recycled for lot more than its worth, furnished with real life imperfections and sold to be bought by the listener.

Some of us grow up in the shade of the afterlife of a lie, some of us create a fence around them and feel safe in this afterlife, for some of us it is a habit and for some it is out of necessity. Surprisingly, we spent most of our lifetime believing and making-believe in the convenience and smoothness of that afterlife.

Feelings, believes, faiths all of them thrive for long on the existence of this afterlife, until one day, when a few things don’t check anymore and the lie ceases to transcend reality and returns to it ground state of being a plain, cold, manipulated lie. If stakes are higher, we do choose to believe what seems to be a lie to be a reality. Because this one tiny wrong stands in the way of all your rights.

We all lie, there is no denying it. I just hope we do our time while lies are in their afterlife and we don’t have to watch them come back to life.

It is just a thought, maybe a statement. You could choose to believe it till the fallacy checks out and comes to life.

Neo

She

2009-03-22T13:03:00.000+05:30

I knew I wasn't late, but neither was I on time. I'd expected a huge room with round tables scattered around the stage, or maybe a hall with large seating capacity. I'd be able to sneak in unnoticed.

Only to find out that the room held not more than 20 people. There was only one seat I could have taken without disturbing the class, and it was next to her.

There she was on the aisle seat, her legs crossed. A sharpened pencil in her slender, elegant fingers. Her face was calm yet curious. Her hair tied back in a simple knot. Neck and ears adorned by understated, classy jewelry. My eyes moved from the baby pink strap of her watch to the lacy ends of her white cotton sleeves. This, complimented by well fitting faded jeans. Ending with kohlapuri chappals on her feet, neatly-done nails shaded with baby pink again.

I couldn’t have asked for a better company to run thru next six hours and learn a bit more about someone I just met.

I was pleasantly surprise that at the end of it, I had some more time to spend with her as I was dropping her home. Riding on the same roads with different company and refreshing chat can be quite an experience. Listening to how different things are for her as compared to her home was very interesting. On one such turn, when I asked her why would there be any shortage of people to go out with for a person like you, she mentioned about her relationship status. And without helmet on, ‘why am I not surprised’ look on my face would be a give away. A few turns later, I remember her mentioning something about me being an utter psycho, crazy, insane and maybe stalker kind of a guy, wind blew those words past I guess.

It was so amusing to hear her when she said, “I can’t believe it. I would never have a person I’ve just met drop me back home. And specially a guy. I can’t believe I just said yes.” I insisted I was charming enough but we settled for ‘its my lucky day.’

From life, people, jobs, cities, lifestyles, party, getting sloshed, future, cooking, keeping house clean we talked about loads of things. Finally when I dropped her, she maybe couldn’t help but ask, “So do you offer ride to any strange person you’ve met.” I somehow could sense that ‘person’ translated to ‘girl.’

But, if I could answer her now, I would most certainly say, “I can’t help it if I meet extra-ordinary and special people under most mundane and ordinary circumstances.”

There could be million ways in which we could never meet the people we do, but there is one by which we actually do.

Neo

Love

2009-03-18T01:28:00.000+05:30

From the time your stare just naturally slid down from her eyes onto her body to the time you walked up the aisle, from the much awaited phone call to the most hated fight, from the insane evening of passion to an old school wine-dine and a kiss, from the everlasting days and never-ending nights of wait to the hugging one another at the airport, railway station, bus stop, from the first kiss when both of you closed your eyes to watching someone walk away after the graduation, from stepping out of office Christmas party for a walk in the cold to your palms locking into one another at a concert, from the hallmark cards to romantic movies, from hurting the one you adore the most to watching someone you utterly fancied spend rest of their life with someone without knowing what you felt for them, from remembering a minute long (or rather short) chat with a stranger to finding yourself utterly disconnected with your so called trophy girlfriend, from disposable means of pleasure to meaningful pursuits…

Am sure most of you have wondered and always wanted to know what Love really is. At least I’ve.

Many great scholars, icons of romance, lovers, believers, non-believer have tried to define it. Movies, cards, CDs have tried to capture it. Locker room talks to rest room conversations have narrated it. I would neither waste time nor efforts to try something so futile.

I have never seen defining ‘courage’ help an army fight courageously. I’ve not experienced defining ‘faith’ turn a non-believer into a believer. It isn’t up to any one to define Love.

Love is always there if you want it to be. Wrapped in beauty and tucked and hidden between seconds of our lives. If you don’t take a minute out and take a chance, you’ll never find it.

Neo

Frekonomics of Terrorism

2009-03-03T18:16:00.003+05:30

“Emm, I don’t feel great. Don’t know but have this thing running back of my mind, you know, It is very recent that, I was sitting down at Forum Mall, Bangalore waiting for my friend to pick me up. Finally, he arrived at 9ish and later at 10:30am I learned that they found a live bomb at the mall. Not too long after that, I was supposed to be in Delhi around October and to squeeze in the extra holiday on Oct-2, 08 I pushed my trip, nothing much but there were blasts in Pahadganj, where I was supposed to go. Top it all, I was to be in Mumbai on 26^th night, and where else would we hang out but for Mondy’s and Leo’s, had to make small detour to Pune and incidentally there was wild wild west during that time in Bombay.”

I think something to that effect were my words, sinking and slouching and shrinking in the chair in front of an old lady who was adjusting her spectacles while taking down notes. Counselling, I figure goes like that.

Well, I sorta feel lucky to be alive you know, don’t know what are the emotions of Indian team touring in New Zealand and what are those of Srilankans who are being flown out of Pakistan as I write.

Makes me wonder about the Frekonomics of Terrorism. If the crowd doesn’t have a face then terrorism is absolutely invisible which can’t be seen through any filter or with any microscope. I don’t know how the world in few years would look like but having grown up in the circumstances, I really can’t imagine it without acts of terrorism and mass death threats.

Terrorism seems to be part of eco-socio system. It is a lucrative business and is also one of the top employers, although which involves handing CRS (Compulsory Retirement Scheme) offers to some innocent folks, kids and some realignment of geography and fabric of society.

Some place gets bombed or shot or is in ruins, you need to cops, army, investigating agencies with their top notch psi-fi gadgets, bunch of politicians from opposition and power brokers for their shot at glory, truck load of journalists-not just local but all over the world. Now, they need to be flown in and kept somewhere, taken care of, they are humans so they will consume products from your country while covering the shocking incident that just occurred. Photo-journalist will clicks the tears before they roll down the cheeks and fall down on ground, because that way the story goes extra mile. Roles would need to be developed, digital images would need printing and publishing.

Machines will churn, wheels will turn, billions of terabytes would exchange servers, plastic cards will be swapped and figures guarded by passwords will blink n change…

Schools will be razed to ground, cities will be burnt, bridges will be made to collapse, public anger will burn civil services and properties down, We’ll need engineers to engineer new structures, builders and contractors to undertake the job and of the ones who have survived will put the mortar and will happily work once they are promised a memorial for the lost lives right in front of the towering complex that is to come up.

Those of us, who are miles away, are also bound to get affected. I mean someone is driving a plane into one of the tallest structures in the world, someone just killed themselves thousands around them by pressing a button, subway train rolled out of one station but before it got anywhere it was into pieces, bar you used to get drunk at now sports bullet marks...how can you not be affected?

We may agree or we may not, we are affected and some seek help consciously by settling on a chair or couch, others contribute to the revenue of mobile carriers by spending most of the time on phone, some express themselves in art and so, other lot is more interesting, subconsciously drift to oblivion, alcohol, grass, smoke, coke, pill …today you are alive you don’t know if you would be tomorrow then what the fuck, might as well have some fun mate…

Legal and illegal medicine industry flourishes, shrinks and counsellors make some money by letting us cope with the situation.

Governments get to point fingers and totally indulge in blame game, people involved in latest multi-billion dollar scams and goof ups get a breather because no one is looking at them.

Television and news, if they haven’t made enough money by telecasting the re-runs of CCTV coverage and footage of ruin, get to make some more money by covering peace march and protests. Social enthusiasts too get to rub shoulders with some serious activist. You feel you did your part. You sign a check or pay some money for relief money, you find some more peace.

Movies industry, they hardly wait these days, after an incident directors, writers tour the ruins and the place, so they have the masala (plot) for their movie which we all will happily watch and feel happy that we survived what actually happened a few years back.

And such an all encompassing business, all that it takes is –a bunch of aimless, futureless young fellas blinded by religion or political agendas/ propagandas. Deliver flawless speech, promise them their virgins or heaven or whatever gets them off, blind them with faith and greater good, you are done with recruiting. Don’t really need HR section in the business because not that you need to offer pension or pay tax or cut provident fund, mostly they die so there is no issue of pink slips either.

Arm dealers, am sure greet their customers based on their demand and bank balances, not a lot of good-will or rapport building needed there.

And all that is at stake is a few good men, who put their lives in the line of fire to fulfil their duties, some innocent kids who could be tomorrows doctors, teachers if nothing at least bread earners for their families, a few mothers who are supporting their families, men, old people-our grand parents and silent structures who have served us, narrated the history to us and who have stood the test of time and weather but failed this one…

Well, looking at the regularity of these terror strikes, I guess someone has the feakonomics of terrorism all figured out.

Don’t be upset. You are still breathing and probably reading the post. Mostly, there is nothing personal, guess it’s just their business.

Neo

Research and PhD

2009-02-20T10:44:00.002+05:30

If some institute might be so kind enough as to let me study and do research starting tomorrow, options of topics would be…

1. 1. Validation of ideology of Absolute Non-Violence against Darwin’s Theory of Evolution.

2. 2. Effects of Drugs on Mind

3. 3. Messages hanging on cows in the field, charts, boards, newspapers, billboards, TV, cinema and then advertising in the skies….Advertising what comes next

4. 4. Life without Consequences

55 5. Is there anything like absolute Truth or there are just Versions

6 6. Nothing is original anymore, it is theory of 'reusebility' that rules the world

7. Gross misuse of word 'Love'

Neo

What am I?

2009-02-17T10:46:00.000+05:30

I’ve a sense of who I’m. At least a sense that is induced by socio-eco-geo factors…I’m a son to well educated, working, upper middle class parents. I’m a pass-out of a respected engineering college, I’m an employee of a big shot company, I’m member of this sports club and that photographic society and so on and I’m author of this blog.

I’ve reasons to believe that you folks can relate with me and hence if situation presents itself, we could be friends, colleagues, acquaintances, reader-writer and so on.

However, what I still can’t seem to figure out is …what am I?

At this moment, I feel, I’m this guy from the book ‘Alchemist,’ No, No, not Santiago, I wish. But this guy, who owned a shop on a hill and always wished and wondered to go to Mecca someday. Santiago works for him and earns enough money for him to go to Mecca, but he still refuses to go to Mecca.

Some people are dreamers but a different kind of dreamers, they do dream something moderately big and something that borders on extremely difficult to impossible but they don’t have the nerve and lack courageous creativity. They desire to have the desire to want the things badly and stretch themselves for it but they don’t really want the things because then there may not be anything left to stretch for.

Sadly enough, at this moment, I can only compare myself with that street dog. Dog that barks and howls and runs after the passing white car. Chases it wildly and gives it up somewhere just before the bend. Ever wondered why…

Because even if it ran and caught up with it, the dog wouldn’t know what to do with it…not to mention beyond the bend, dog would be out of his home turf.

Anyone of you ever felt so?

To say the least, this phase in life is a little Do(d)gy.

Neo

Let Go

2009-02-10T12:45:00.002+05:30

“Dude, I recovered 11GB but nothing really from your iTunes folder. Sorry man. Hard-disk is fried. Can’t do much.”

I heard and swallowed. But couldn’t digest.

Back then, I had just got a job that actually paid. After taking parents out for dining, throwing some bounties at brother, buying shirts for dad and starting FD because mom asked, I lived on miserly to save up for my baby…iPod classic.

“Aare, tell me what you want engraved.”

“Engraved?”

“Check it out on their website. I am picking up from the store from SF, I could get you engraved. Your brand new first iPod.”

“Wow, that is awesome. Will write you soon.”

Still remember that conversation as if it happened yesterday. Like a mediocre, school kid I wanted my name engraved on the iPod as if it would be mistaken for somebody else’s notebook or water-bottle. It was going to be my iPod. I did come up with something, something that would always remind me of what I need to be reminded of right now.

Travelling and back packing in Europe, travelling in metros with my head rocking to the music and then suddenly checking if I still have my wallet or someone flicked it on the metro, sitting awake in the freezing, chilly nights by the sea or lake, riding on a bicycle on a sunny morning in the Black Forest, sharing one ear piece with a total stranger because the person liked the music, travelling on local trains in Mumbai hanging out on the doors and adjusting ear-ins to hear the songs, lazing on a hammock at the sea face while listening to music and wondering what if one of those coconuts decides to fall down, wondering if I could take my iPod underwater or while I swam for hours in the pool, buying two size bigger helmet so that ear-in find way inside while I ride on…all this while it was my iPod. Became like extended part of me.

May that be sharing that song with her, or may that be listening to music on full volume to escape from the world around or putting it on while I tried to study or learn something, it was always there.

And yeah, like Mr. Jobs had said, “You’ll never have to delete a song.” I didn’t have to.

German, Spanish, Russian, Marathi, Hindi, English … rock, alternative, pop, classics, trance, instru all of that is gone. Just gone.

Of the few things that I’ve lost in the last few weeks, this one pinches me the most.

Well, I still turn my iPod around and read, what I need to be reminded of,

“Life will never be prettier than it is now.”

Neo

It is not letting go that hurts but otherwise.

Solid, Liquid, Gas and Stoned

2009-01-23T21:46:00.001+05:30

The smell fills your nose before eyes catch sight of those yellowish dark walls and the flaming burner. Calmly burning on LPG flame it spits the energy that burns the asbestos sheet and burning quiet asbestos sheet passes it on to the beaker. The upright standing burner.

The dark one by one cubic centimetre cube is small but evident even from distance. Heating up. You take a peep inside and it takes you way beyond the external crude appearance of the cube into the molecular structure of it. Molecules combing in cohesion with each other, peaceful fitting into the fishbone structure, beyond and why’s and how’s. Solid.

The smell tips off your nose much before you see the green. You push the door open and walk in. Open plastic pouch and the spread clean white paper. Some transparent papers around and the matchbox. Parked where they are supposed to be. Hands move at the brisk pace emptying the tobacco and crushing it. The green makes you want to take a peep inside. And you see beyond the crumpled leaves, irritating seeds and the stiffened stem. You know this is it beyond any why’s and how’s. Solid yet.

The heat isn’t unbearable but just about enough for particles to unsettle. Move around, unsettle the structure and rupture principles of physical dynamics and chemistry. They move, reaching to the state where the energy they posses is beyond control. Is beyond to hold them back, and just before they lose the energy, they break lose. Liquid.

Music pours into your ears just as the liquid fills up the empty glasses. Hands moving even more swiftly and pushing the crushed substance inside. You roll. The music rolls. Smell still continues to fill your nose. Loosening your reflexes and inhibitions. Liquefying your stuck thoughts, breaking down the walls and pounding down your inhibitions. Liquid.

Asbestos seems to be on the verge of giving up but it holds on. Beaker shivers, threatening to break but goes on. Liquid molecules can’t hold it back. The shake the beaker further. Threatening it further to break and empower themselves to break-free. State they’ve never seen. Alas they lose the visible tangibility and break free. Gas.

Rattle of stone fixed on top of the Zippo and smell of fluid burning. A long drag and lungs full. Choke..may be a release. Nostrils left looking for trace of something. Body loosens, can’t feel its on weight and limbs so loose as if they weren’t attached. Brains shrinks and expands. And every exhale leaves you weightless. Gas.

Particles can’t be restrained inside the beaker. State beyond the state that was never achieved is being ventured into. Particles so unstable and high, can’t be refrained in four stinky walls of labs. Particles breaking free is all three known dimensions and many more, in all known ten directions and many more, not to return for foreseeable future. Stoned.

Light head, hi yet unstable, powerful, creative mind, loose limbs, spinning dimensions, ears flooded with melody and music, eyes blinding by thousand Suns, breathing nose and drying throat and flying mind…Stoned.

Neo

Is that what they are saying?

2009-01-22T10:49:00.002+05:30

This is what I found while aimlessly browsing net for nothing...
Neo

Heard about Facebook yet ?

2009-01-19T10:06:00.002+05:30

To all those with

-1000 friends on Facebook friend's list
- 24 status edits, including 'I'm snizzing or snoozing or sleeping or coughing or whatever
- 10,000 tagged photos
- A million gadgets
- open-complicated-engaged relationship status

here goes....

Neo

Praan

2009-01-17T12:38:00.002+05:30

Here is a master-piece by Rabindranath Tagore.

Bhulbona ar shohojete
Shei praan e mon uthbe mete
Mrittu majhe dhaka ache
je ontohin praan

Bojre tomar baje bashi
She ki shohoj gaan
Shei shurete jagbo ami
(Repeat 3X)

Shei jhor jeno shoi anonde
Chittobinar taare
Shotto-shundu dosh digonto
Nachao je jhonkare!

Bojre tomar baje bashi
She ki shohoj gaan
Shei shurete jagbo ami

This one defines it ... that is life....

Neo

Who needs a reason when you've got heroin

2009-01-13T09:26:00.001+05:30

Enjoy this track from 'Trainspotting'

Sooner is better than Later

2009-01-08T20:01:00.003+05:30

Series of 1s & 0s team up to churn out the message

Celluloid letters flicker to let you read what you’ve to read

Circuits amplifying the voice coming through from thousand miles away

To let you hear what you’ve to

And half a million pixels putting up a solved jigsaw to let you see her face

Sooner than later…

Talks won’t lead to anywhere

But the latent hunch that they will - later than sooner

Would keep you at it

As mundane as the day might be

Still you would have something to talk and something to hear

All the wise-cracks and well stirred up doses of flirt

Garnished with a floating umbrella of words and

a few cubes of puns

would get you high sooner or later.

A fight or a tussle, would always be around the corner

But sooner or later you learn how not to take that corner

Sooner or later

All the stories, the people,the incidents from past and present

Success, Failure, Excitement, Disappointment, Affections, Attraction, Jealousy, Desire, Curiosity

Can’t be held back in the presence of million gadgets of communications

And from ever exposed expressions

But, every now and then

Something comes up, someone walks up or walks by

And a look is all maybe it takes

And sooner or later it is a drink, a walk, a movie

or to sum it up - a date

Latter is I guess is better

Sooner or later,

You’ve to let the tide wash out the letters on sand

You’ve to let the photographs fade or get lost or be at the corner of the pin board where you don’t look no more

Sooner or later reality is dearer than dreams

And for the dear ones you need to pull the chord

It isn’t the letting go that hurts but otherwise

‘Who will turn back?’

Is always for one to know and the other one to find out

Be the Latter

Sooner or later

Neo

2441139

2009-01-06T14:29:00.002+05:30

A refreshing middle class swabhimaani bong song - as my friend puts it

Neo

Dec, 08

2008-12-17T10:22:00.001+05:30

It is that time of the year, when there is chill in the wind but you want to feel it on your dry nose and sleepy eyes, when the sun rises a little late and sun rays get filtered through the mist and though your routine doesn’t change much you still enjoy the slowed down pace and rising festivity in the surroundings.

For him, it is that time of the year too. When rather than rushing to office, he would like to cuddle up and snooze for some more time. Wake up to the smell of a coffee and toast, go for walks, spend lingering evenings in someone’s company and well you know what…

Probably it is just his theory, this seems to be the fragile time of the year wherein hooking up seems to be the only logical thing (wonder which organ is doing the thinking but). It is just his theory.

Addicted to TV shows such as Prison Break, Dexter, Heroes, Lost, it has him thinking life comes in seasons. Each lasting a year with 12, 52 or 365 episodes and probably this is the time of year to wind up yet another season.

Last year, around this time, he was thinking about visas, back packing Europe all over again, vacation in the Black Forest, concerts to attend and well new years and yeah a quarter of international exposure. New year seemed to have topped his agenda which included begging for someone credit card to book flight tickets to some place thousand kilometres away, reshuffling flights and going broke. All, for what he thought is to shape up into something.

This time around, year is drawing to an end and he isn’t really looking for parties though he knows it isn’t tough to find one. He isn’t planning a trip anywhere, happily sunk in the blanket of his laziness he doesn’t plan on going broke or berserk, but then he had planned it so last time around as well.

He just got back in time in office to relieve other colleagues to happy year ending holidays while he intends to man the fort with aching back and blank mind. Mind stuck somewhere in his home town. Stuck in those three weeks holiday which just passed by. Nothing special happened; he didn’t go anywhere other than visiting three doctors and attending some weddings. Although, time spent by the sea face, breaking onto the terrace of his college and long, aimless drives with a couple of friends is what he treasured the most from this trip.

Saving and investment advice from parents, queries about future plans, marriage proposals from some so called well-wishers at marriages he attended, a quick meeting with his brother, dropping by his x’s house, passing those cafes and clubs and food joints and a little reckless visit to a psychologist were the dots he was still trying to connect in the past few days.

He remembered what his friend said at Hard Rock café, Mumbai, ‘Know the things that really matter and the ones which don’t. And don’t be in a race with your peers. Don’t chase your friend, compete against yourself. But for now, down your beer.’ And he downed it.

A lot is on his mind. Had it to do something with what happened to his city in November. Or the way year had turned out? He could be anywhere in the world, but he is still there, where he was the last time around at this time of the year...reeling the twelfth episode of the 24^th season or reviewing the pilot for the season 25.

Neo

Where do they go?

2008-11-17T14:26:00.001+05:30

If other than oxygen there is one thing that you can’t avoid while you get through the day, it is the ‘people’

You see them

Meet them

Hear them

Have a chat, crack a joke and laugh with them

Out of these numerous faces around

Walking and talking, Breathing and sweating some appeal more than the others

You like some over the others

Well you also have illusions that you love some…

You take a few steps with them and take some more

Hope that these would be like footsteps in the sand of the time

The more you take, more you shall leave behind

And yeah they are steps in the sand

However, water from the sea washes them off moment you set your foot forward

Memories at times are like a FIFO stack in computers (first in first out)

Pilled under huge stack of other memories and other people…

And so the life goes on

Till one day, something just goes missing

Something somewhere stops

Just like you clicked with people

You probably unclick

As smoothly as they became integral part of your life,

They slide away even more smoothly

You have them on your yahoo or gmail address book but don’t know if their account are still active

You’ve their numbers but don’t know if they are still in the same city

You’ve their digital footprints in your inbox but you let forwards and useless advertisements pile up on them

They are on your mind but there is only so much you can process at a time…

They are mentioned over a few beers and drinking stories or as ‘one of my friends’ over soul searching instances

Until..

An awkward smile at a grocery shop

A confused glance at a pub

A familiar voice over a conference

Or a brushing of shoulders at a movie theatre

Makes you wonder…

Aren’t these people just like steps in the sand…

More you take – more you leave behind…

Where do they go?

Guess back to the sea of faces they belong to…

Neo

Quantum Of So-Less

2008-11-11T15:26:00.001+05:30

Much talked about sequel to the Casino Royale, movie 'Quantum Of Solace' starring Daniel Craig and the new bond girl Olga Kuryelenko, finally hits the screen and after having watched the same trailer hundreds of times, I rushed for the movie with my friends.

Now, if you were thrilled by the ‘on the foot chase’ from Casino Royale, you will be on the edge of your seat when Quantum kicks off with an Aston Martin snaking through the hilly roads in Italy while being chased by the bad guys. Insane car chase with Mr. White locked in the boot of the car is simply stunning. It felt rewarding to have watched Casino Royale before heading out to the theatre.

Things turn out, ‘well not exactly as expected’ while interrogating Mr. White and it leads to another very well pictured chase, which leads our double O to yet another lead and to another lead and from one dead man to another.

All that agent M and we know by the time we get to the half is that there is something, someone and some organisation which is much bigger than what we’ve seen or imagined. It is out there and elite secret services don’t know anything about it.

In the course of time, Olga Kuryelenko is introduced elegantly. If you are hoping for some action from the new, bold bond girl, I’m sorry but you’ll be let down. Bond is after the bad guys and is working his way brick by brick and lead by lead. When all of a sudden MI6 decides to bring him in and restrict his movement. That is when Bond goes back to Mathis and seeks help.

This venture leads him to Bolivia and that much closer to the bad guys and their plot. Mr. Green, Bolivian dictator, compromised CIA agents and if time permits then Bond is after guys who killed Vesper as well…feeling I get.

James Bond claims, time and time over again that he isn’t driven by vengeance or revenge. He is only answering to the call of his duty. But Bond not being able to get sleep at nights, Mathis and Camille (Olga) reminding him about Vesper and asking him to let himself free are the clues that he isn’t over Vesper and probably, something more than duty is driving him to go after the bad guys. As an audience, one may get confused as to If bond is going to have to fight the bad guys to protect the royal grace and the crown and in the course of time a side mission would be to take out the guys who killed Vesper.

Well, as bond advances towards the bad guys the death toll increases. Things speed up and cars roll and guns fire. The regular stuff and it continues till the end.

The background score is good; action scenes and chase sequences are of supreme quality, exotic locations and face off with newer and more sophisticated villains.

However, our double O seems to be getting more of a broken hearted revengeful, confused, lover boy.

Bond was after Le Chiffre in the Royale and other than the call from M during which she tells Bond that organization behind Le Chiffre kidnapped Vesper’s boyfriend and did all that they did.

We do get glimpses of ‘that organization’ and we hope to see that organization shape up and be defined by its body and activity but I guess we are going to have to wait a little bit longer. Newly promoted 007 might need some more time and creators of the movie some more bandwidth to figure out what that organization is all about.

After having waited for two years for this movie, walking out of theatre I felt, I want to go to sleep and only wake up when the next one is out.

However, no smart and cheeky gadgets, Bond goes to bed with just one woman, not a lot of wits and charming by the Bond, relationship between M and double O becoming more of a Mother-son kind and closest Olga Kuryelenko comes to action is a peck on bond’s lips and some shouting and inane shooting and flashing ramp looks…just the facts.

However, it is a 007 movie so feel free to knock yourself off.

Neo

Other Side

2008-11-09T19:51:00.001+05:30

When the light through the windowpane makes it impossible to keep the eyelids closed and twisting and turning in the bed comes to end, I open my eyes and check the time. It is one in the noon and second thing I notice is stiff and frozen muscles and splitting headache, symptoms of inevitable disease known as ‘hangover.’

I drag my ass off the bed to the washroom. Splashing water on face and cleaning eyes, I notice a stamp on my right wrist. I hold my wrist up see the blur blue inked stamp in the mirror. “Ahh, that is where I was.” And other thing that it reminds is who I was with, you know.

Wait, I didn’t plan to start Sunday like this but then I’m not complaining either. Saturday noon I did the regular stuff. Cleaned up apartment a bit, washed some shirts, made some food and read up a bit and watched TV. Later I met up with a friend and somehow just a friendly catch up shot off to tangents such as life and what is it that matters in life, we did some loud thinking and some retrospection. It was getting a little too heavy for Saturday night. And then rung my cell phone…roomie asked, “Whats up bro? What plans?”

Yeah right, so I don’t happen to be the most social, party prone and the fun person, so my calendar for weekends is an empty slate (most of the times). So this party comes along in this plush club and this kind man gifts me name on the guest-list, ‘A’ list as he would like to call it.

Simple white t-shirt, blue denim and shoes and bike keys and we are off. As people start trickling in, we get into the club. Nice and low seating sofas, mini bars sprung up across the club, glittery dance floor and something that every party needs, ‘abundance of pretty faces.’

I remember first hour when I just sat down there and downed my beer. Later, got to talking with some folks and I remembers downing shots in the name of good times and new friendships formed. What followed after that was something, let us just say, I was new to it.

Now, I’ve two left feet so normally I look for a girl with two right feet so we could dance. And more often than not it has either been the girl I was dating or a very good friend. First case, she doesn’t have much of a choice and later, I don’t have much of a choice. This time was something different. Another shot and then dance floor.

I stood there like I needed directions to the toilet and I couldn’t read the language. Which is not exaggeration because I was looking for some space to dance, some association and wasn’t able to follow the music at all.

I got my directions when someone held me by my hand and all I had to do was just follow (to start with). Well, after that there wasn’t looking back. Alcohol has been Mankind’s best friend and it didn’t betray. Music picked up, dance partner was fun and we made space where we could dance.

It only improved with every passing number, every gulping drink. Things I said then I can’t remember now, but whatever I can remember is absurdly stupid. However, it just seemed fitting and well, seems to have worked as well, had a good time after all.

Long drive, spinning head, someone’s head on my shoulder, me choosing to catch glimpses of Lamborghini over start gazing with someone, elegantly dressed girls, exchange of numbers, drunken sms-ing and good byes and roomie riding both of us home is what I kind of remember.

I blink my eyes and look at the image of the stamp in the mirror and the guy in the mirror smirks at me, saying “Welcome to the other side.”

Neo

…and We remained 12 hours apart…

2008-11-02T18:47:00.000+05:30

After waiting for half an hour, at 8:30, I finally swiped my card in and walked up to the bay. Took off my shirt, signed against the canoe I was taking in and I hit the water.

I always find myself into the rush to row wider and stronger and faster in order to get away from the shore as quickly as possible. And I enjoy it because it gives a kind of rush of blood and flexing of muscles so fast, am often close to getting a cramp but I love it anyways. Once, I rowed my way in, I relaxed a bit and found my rhythm. And once me and my canoe were one and ore was cutting water just as smooth, my mind couldn’t help but wonder - why didn’t she come?

I had met her a day before. Nahh, I mean we’d known each other for over a three years (or two as she would like to correct me) from the days when I was still in Germany. A quiet face, brownish short hair over her forehead, and comforting yet mysterious smile on her lips, flawless blue eyes and elegant eyebrows- yeah, I can still remember. Two years had gone by and none of us had bothered to get in touch, why should one. It was probably an evening or a workshop that we did together. I sure noticed her back then but I’d noticed her friend more, so to say.

Well, I was excited to meet after so long. I thought of it more so that she is in my city and if was in hers, she would show me around and that is what I’m going to do. Just like another Job. I’ve spent at least five of my weekends showing people around and have got some of my dearest friends and acquaintances out of that and it is cool thing. I get to know a little more about my own city. So, I was up for it.

I walked into Café Leopold. It wasn’t full but there were a lot of tourists and I was wondering if we would recognise each other at all. Turns out, it is still not possible for someone like her to go unnoticed. She was writing her diary, sitting at the right corner table, black coloured salwar-kurta, same good old short hair, pretty eyes and spark in her smile. Very formally, I said hello in my possible German dialect and I settled down on the chair in front of her. She still looked very pretty and this time with a subtle sense of peace in every-bit that she came across. But somehow, I wasn’t going to compliment her. Just a thing you know, you don’t want to go ga ga about someone just within in five minutes of seeing them. Let us just call it a guy thing for the moment.

We walked around. I did my routine, Gateway of India, docks, Bombay Stock Exchange, Fountain, Churchgate, High Court building and back to Regal theatre. While I wasn’t explaining something about the place, I was listening to her story. Which was like yours and mine, but for the fact that she had been on the road from January and she has been pretty much all over the world, from South America to New Zealand, Laos to Varanasi, Agra to Kanyakumari.

While we stopped at Mondegar’s to have our lunch. I completely stepped out of my guide’s shoe and we could really catch up. Surprisingly, we spoke a lot and said a lot as well. Now I knew a little more than before. In her words, ‘I knew that she wasn’t that kind of person and She wasn’t that kind of girl.’ I guessed, I had rest of the afternoon and then probably the evening to figure out those two ‘thats.’

Then we rode up to VT, Xaviers’ College, Metro, Marine Lines, Churchgate and then to the lands end at Nariman Point. And we just hung around by the sea face. We watched people, skyline of Bombay, fancy cars passing by, people walking, breathing, talking, sweating, talking on phones, crossing roads, shopping…we just let the life of the city sink in.

She asked, if we were going to party anytime. And I nodded.

Left the bike and home and we took on street by foot.

We walked up all the way up from Choupati to Nariman Point by the sea. We decided to make a quick pit-stop and sit by the sea-face for a while and we ended up hanging around there for an hour and then back on feet. Very soon we ended up at Mondy’s, now Café Mondegar(Mondy’s) has become a phenomenon for me or rather a synonym for ‘Good Times’ and well that day wasn’t an exception. We sat in, downed some beers, scribbled on tissue papers, put in coins to play songs on Juke box and met some people. We left only when they decided to shut down.

No one wanted to go home so we walked past assembly house to the sea. Alcohol does help you get over some inhibitions and talk a little more than you otherwise. So it did. We just lazed around till early morning, laughed for no good reason, starred at the horizon in the dark and heard the bikes and cars breeze by. Then I walked her back to her guest-house and she asked if we were still on for rowing in the sea next day. We agreed to meet up at 8 o’clock and then just a long silent stare and then I left.

She thought it was 8 pm and it was apparent to me that it has to be 8am to be able to row in the sea.

Well, that is why I probably waited for half and hour. But now I’m hitting the water.

I remember, she told me bout this guy she met in a pub on some evening and then how they were the only ones left to leave when the sun rose. Twelve hours, did she say ?

I couldn’t help but think…

Well, I met her following day in the evening and as both of us were a little short on money we just hung around. Walked, talked, and grabbed an ice-cream and some road-side food. I remember when in Bombay, an hour doesn’t pass without looking at the watch half a dozen times, but this time around the time check was courtesy Mom, dad and all the friends whom I was still to meet. They kept buzzing on my cell-phone.

It only got clearer that time is something; we never have it on our side.

Wine, dine, walks, rides and well hours and hours spent talking and sometime just thinking, grinning and smiling, just felt like a routine, I didn’t want to let go off.

So here was the deal, I couldn’t get in touch with her and she could. So, there wasn’t a lot of room for being spontaneous, even if I was around where was she was staying, there was no way to get in touch with her. Well, it works both ways, if you don’t know if you are going to meet the person again or not, you make most of the time you’ve got and other way, you know it…

So, she buzzed later on in the day and we met up at Regal. I happened to reach early and thought I could take her out for movie and so I got tickets. Turns out she really wanted to see that one and I just smiled like I could read her mind, whereas I had no damn clue…bout nothing.

That was the last evening, next day by that time, I was to be in the bus headed towards Hyd. Only consolation was I hate to be the one driving back from the Airport, so I much rather be on the flight (errr…on the Bus).

We sat and watched the fireflies in the sky and I joked that the city was bidding farewell to her. She was on the road for last nine months, she had travelled over ten countries and met tones of people and this was her last stop before heading back home. Just makes things interesting. You always have lots to talk about lots. Not to mention, I could practice a bit of my German.

For someone who hasn’t been on holidays in the last seven month and for whom 9 to 6pm has been the schedule and life was defined in by nothing but the sum 5+2, spending such a refreshing time with someone was …well beyond all the words that you read so far…

We met up in yet another of my favourite café, she slide the printout of our photograph and a lighter that she had carried with her for last nine months and I slide across an envelope, contents of which I leave to your imagination.

We walked a mile. And I heard myself saying, “So, Das wars.”..means so that was it..

She smiled and we hugged.

And we parted, no one looked back or maybe someone did…

Neo

Pigments of Imperfection

2008-10-12T20:52:00.000+05:30

Some pick their nose, some can’t help but adjust their hair moment they see a mirror or a glass, some have to keep clearing their throat, some can’t live without useless fillers such as ‘infact’ ‘actually’ ‘emmm, Ya, but’ and so on, some can’t resist continuously cleaning and wiping their mobile, wrist-watch or glasses, some can’t help but scratch, fidget or blink. I can’t help but check half a dozen times if the padlock is locked properly.

I was supposed to pick up a friend of mine this afternoon and I was late. Rushed out of house and was locking my apartment. I kept my helmet and bike keys aside and was putting the padlock on. Turned the key and pressed the lock. Done. Emmm, not really. Had to check a couple of times before stepping out of complex.

I counted One, two, three. “Emm, yeah it is locked.” Take a couple of steps to left and I feel, I should probably check it once more because I’m going to be gone for like a whole day. I repeat the drill. And just as I’m supposed to scoot, my friends calls up to tell me he’ll be late. While on the phone, I manage to catch glimpses of these fellas across the building, sitting on chairs with legs on the railing- literally laughing at me.

I didn’t know how to react so I opened the lock again and darted inside. Huhhh….I was probably insanely angry and wanted to shout back at them and in a second I realized, I was the one to blame. It was embarrassing enough to imagine see someone jerk the padlock thrice to see if it was locked or not. I completely understood the reason behind the heart-full laugh those guys just had.

I killed half an hour and it was time to leave. I got out of the apartment. I could still see those dear onlookers across the building. Probably, there was an addition of a couple to the total. I had decided, turn the key, press the lock and scoot. Scoot like a thief. I did exactly so. And guess what, as I rushed to get down the staircase, I hear applaud. And just as I turned to get down the stairs, I received a standing ovation.

“Cheeky, smart bastards,” is what I must have gritted. But out came an embarrassed awkward grin.

Thinking bout it now, am still grinning, probably a lil more comfortably.

Well these are imperfections which make us humans. Just like the others, just like the ones across the building, across the road, across the globe. They put us into situations we don’t know how to react or handle. These things embarrass us but more often than not at our cost a dozen people smile, laugh and giggle.

I don’t remember my tenth grade marks. I don’t remember my first salary. In few years, I won’t remember how it felt to receive first promotion, but these incidences caused due to the imperfections are the ones that probably most of us are going to remember over a long time.

Neo

What say

2008-10-08T13:58:00.002+05:30

What did Pi say to Square root of -1

"Get Real"

How did it get back at Pi???
"Dude, Be Rational"

Drill

2008-09-16T16:17:00.003+05:30

Well, these days we have drills and guidebooks for everything. From cracking an exam, impressing women, making million dollars sitting at your home, scamming, and corning to those safety drills and emergency evacuation drills. Our very nature and obsession to control and rehearse everything possible continues to drive me crazy.

Emergency alarm goes out, someone listening to Menson or MegaDeath at full volume also couldn’t have unheard the alarm. Half of them new exact time when the alarm would go out and rest knew anytime in next two hours it would. Half ready to evacuate and quarter of them checking their watches every five minutes and rest either staring at their liquid crystal displays and hitting keystrokes after keystrokes for greater good or because they were just as idle as me.

We run. We evacuate. Some take photographs. Some laugh. Some gossip. Some crib. Some get much awaited chance to strike a conversation. Some chatter on phone. Some watch. Some are still lost. I, I want to go home.

I can’t help but watch people. It is addictive I tell you. It amuses me to see how amongst thousands of people, they slowly start gravitating towards one another or in other words get repelled from some other ones and others. Folks up the food chain seem to settle down in a corner, checking if their latest Van Heusen didn’t catch some grease from the emergency evacuation, if the shoe polish is still ok, if the expensive scarf is still intact. Social butterflies just can’t seem to get enough of action. So excited they need to probably text it to their mates who probably work around the same complex. Disastrously good looking girls, I mean the ones who know that they make heads turn, start drifting to one side of the field. Gossip junkies won’t let a minute go to waste. On the other corner, you see folks desperately waiting for their next nicotine stick, discussing if it would be alright to light one while the guy on the stage explains types of fires and demonstrates how to extinguish fire. You see the working class, the cleaning and maintenance staff hanging by the fence, probably looking at us and smirking, bunch of so called intellectuals dressed as such a real life misfits. Security doing rounds, who has probably worked hardest for this ten minutes evacuation drill. Eternally lost, cynical, sarcastic social misfit like me standing by the side and watching…

Watch as thousand people breathe and sweat and yap in the small front yard. Stare as they laugh or frown.

What they or no one understands is when one of the five elements decides to pull the switch. You are not going to gravitate, you are not going to drift, you won’t have time to laugh or frown. You will run. Crowd won’t have a face. You won’t know whose lips, ears, groin or eyes you’ll be stamping on. You won’t know whose blood you have on your Ritu Kumar or Peter England. When smoke fills up the floor and you can’t see the ones working a few cubicles away, you won’t hear any voices but just the chaos. And the thing about chaos is, it’s fair. It doesn’t have a face, doesn’t leave one behind, just the scars.

At least then we won’t drift socio-economically or pseudo-intellectually.

Now, that’s a drill. We just need a push.

Neo

Crash

2008-09-02T14:29:00.002+05:30

It seemed like just an ordinary day. Cousin was leaving to go back to his air-base at Bidar. We had had a nice weekend. We partied a lot, some heart to heart talk took place, blew a bit of money and we were all set to bid good-bye.

I was riding him back to bus stand.

An annoying truck was leaking water from its top and was spitting unbearable black smoke and incidentally we were riding bumper to bumper behind that truck. If you ask me now, I would still say, “I thought I would make it, just in time. Overtake the truck before any vehicle came from the other-side and sail smoothly after that.

I agree I made a dash and what I didn’t account for was, the truck might just shift a bit to its right and the girl in a green top and brown skirt walking close to sidewalk, might just decide to swing her basket right to left and drift towards the road. As we dashed closer, I realized it wasn’t to be, I won’t make it.

I screeched onto my breaks. Emm…we were in moderate speed and there were enough tiny granular particles on the road to skid the bike when I clinched onto breaks.

I don’t know what exactly happened. I fell on my right side, with the bike, sliding a little bit further into the mud towards side-walk. The whole thing came to stand-still for me when my helmet covered head rested on the ground, with my body parallel to fallen bike and nose right opposite to spinning front wheel. That was the moment when I closed my eyes. Exhaled and realized what had happened and then opened them again.

I could see a couple of men running up towards us. I didn’t know yet what had happened to my cousin. I found out later he had a tiny bruise and he was a little luckier, he didn’t fall down. No, my entire life didn’t flash before my eyes. One is too shocked in a situation like this for the whole life to flash by. When you fall down and the shock waves pierce through your tattered clothes, bruised skin, hampered tissue layers and through your bones, up until your senses, you often take a while to realize what has happened. Until the blood from my elbow dripped onto my sandals, I didn’t realize I was bleeding. But when I did, it was time to hit back home asap and clean up.

Well, bleeding didn’t stop, we rushed to hospital. As I walked limping towards Dr. Bevin, he probably knew, there was something up my sleeve. Well, there was, a bleeding wound. I couldn’t even shake hands properly; he just raised his eyebrows and adjusted his specs to have a better look that meant I spill the beans…

He asked me to go to ER and requested a nurse to clean me up and he shall have a look.

Turns out, I’ve a puncture wound. To help me understand, he said “It is like a Gun shot. Just that you went and jumped on the stand-still bullet (foreign body) at the speed of 30-40kmph.”

I’m waiting now, to hear from the Surgeon on further course of action.

As much, I’m worried about bruised knees, tainted black-bluish-reddish shoulder, my puncture wound, worried but angry parents, pending projects at office, solitary confinement in my apartment for coming days, I’m more worried because of the certified rash driver that I’ve become.

Neo

Pact

2008-08-29T20:16:00.000+05:30

The word is perfect and spelled correctly but it is incomplete with out the preposition, The Pact. And this can be understood by those who have made the pacts and stood by them and by those who made the pacts when so few owed so much to so many, pacts made with a smile on the face when the other person asked nothing less but simply the world out of someone else and by those who didn’t mistake the meaning of this word for sacrifice.

He understands the word ‘as well.’

Like very few, he left most important things to destiny. Or as they say to the chance… He wasn’t the rounder who would let himself land up in a mess and wait on the river card to be drawn to decide his fate. But he did wait for destiny to play its last hand.

They met by chance and he believed if they were to meet again, they would anyways. At a stage in life we all feel ‘we’ve been there and have done that’ and he didn’t want to fight that feeling but he didn’t mind waiting until the chips fell where they were supposed to. He ran into her again and surprisingly they kicked off just as well. He treasured her smile just as much she loved his presence.

Coming closer to each other is the journey unfortunately each individual has to cover with their own vehicle, driven by their will and fuelled with emotions and commitment. He could see her balancing act of managing her feet on wobbly stones with her hand stretched out. But by then he had already jumped into the lifeboat with just the bare minimum.

Time passed, days gave way to the weeks and weeks to the months. She found her land; her hand was still stretched out but out of obligation. All he had were stormy waters and she now asked for mountains. He didn’t want to lean on until the fall. And he chose not to.

He didn’t utter those three magical words even as he walked her home for the last time. He made a pact that night, never to lean on, never to mention it what he whole heartedly meant, not until she read it and destiny heard it.

Wise people could break the rule and call it an exception and get away with it. However, even today as he heard from her after ages, even a person as insane as him couldn’t be a traitor to break the pact. Could he be?

Neo

Wage your wars but never fight your battles

2008-08-07T09:16:00.000+05:30

Hey folks, I’ll be honestly confused as I’ve been all through out my posts. This sentence (Wage your wars but never fight your battles) could be a pseudo-intellectual wisecrack or it could really develop into a write up. It has been doing rounds in my head but somehow couldn’t get too far on paper.

Why don’t you drop me a line or two as comments as to what ripples this line creates in your mind. If it strikes any chords at all, if it means or hints towards anything at all…

Would be really nice…

Waiting to hear from you …

Neo

Strum

2008-08-04T19:36:00.001+05:30

Just the sound of that word is elegant enough to remind you of some things.

It is surprising though that you can’t use that word otherwise. You need to strum a string instrument. It is like this, you either drink the water in the glass or you don’t. There is nothing like trying. You either strum or you don’t

And with guitar you can’t help but adjust the body of it on one of your thighs, grip the guitar, move your left hand gently over the frets and sparing bridge your right hand settles near the sound hole and even before you know, you’ve strummed the guitar.

I remember, someone tried to teach me how to play guitar and I also remember someone telling me, if it isn’t in your blood, it just isn’t.

Having seen the cool dudes strum a six string at Barista and have the girl they wanted, I’ve wanted to learn the guitar for various reasons. To impress someone, or to make a point to someone, to prove someone wrong, for being able to play the song someone once played for me or even for the plain kick of knowing how to play at least one instrument. There are so many, I can’t count.

Of all the reasons one that never left me was to be able to communicate my self, to express without any words, to seal smile, depression, anger, hate, pain and love..seal all of them in chords and play it, say it, express it.

I am still stupid enough to think that someday, I’ll put my own rhymes to a tune. I’ll play well enough that I’ll not have to utter a word. Some day, I’ll watch people playing invisible guitar from the stage, some day I’ll learn how to make mere piece of wood n metal strings an extended part of your body, someday I’ll know…

But until then it isn’t like picking up the glass and drinking water. It is a distant dream, perhaps too good to come true, perhaps am just a coward to go after something for the simple fear of failing or feeling like a dog, you know, a dog won’t know what to do if it actually caught the car it was chasing, maybe much better you enjoyed the chase.

Ahhh dam it, what the hell, none in this café has a spare guitar on them.

“Dude, cm’on can’t you get me one? Just for now…”

Neo

….,” Dad Said

2008-07-31T09:10:00.000+05:30

It is one of those days, when you completely take your family for granted and don’t think twice before beeping them on their cell phones. With all friends gone and party over, I felt utterly lonesome and without thinking twice I shamelessly called up dad.

Well, one odd occasion when instead of dad catching you partying late, you catch him having a couple of drinks. “Well, son, we are just out catching up on a couple o drinks after completion of this project. You tell me what is new on your front. Heard you’ve been partying in B’lore over the last weekend.”

Well, I had been. I was awfully silent and said, “Sorry, dad, I’ll catch you later. Continue.” Huhhh, to my utter surprise (or maybe not) he said, “Stop giving me these candyfloss wrapped lines. Tell me what happened?”

“Nothing, just a lil lonely. Bored perhaps, I don’t know. Friends left, friends leaving. You know how it is.”

He sipped on his drink and said, “Remember, we used to go rowing and canoeing. Half way through, we would drop our ores and just lay calm in our canoes. You sometime would even close your eyes and lay down. When you opened your eyes and found your canoe drifted meters away from mine, you would get terrified and scream at me. As to how I could let it drift. Sooner or later, you got good at canoeing, you had no fear of the water and you grew comfortable with a bit of loneliness, and you were just fine. I don’t remember, you waiting for me to drop ores. I remember, even on stormy days just in the middle of June, you would go all alone canoeing.”

“This is how it is, two planks, two canoes – let loose in the sea, come closer and rub against each other for a while. But for how long they’ll stick on no one knows. It is just like that, row while you can, lay low when you are tired, make those waves your companions, you won’t be alone. As far as brushing against other canoe is concerned, it is just a tide away. Hold on.”

“Ok, Ba. I get it. You carry on. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Nite son.”

Neo

Podding Couples

2008-07-24T11:04:00.000+05:30

My job is of the guy, who does classification… you know the guy who puts things into boxes. Somehow, he has to have an opinion about the product he sees. It is required. And is it strange to see our jobs rub onto our lives?

See, a insurance policy agent, he will always try and sell it to you, may that be an idea, his advice or anything at all. A perfect housewife ( homemaker to be politically correct) would enrich you with homely and stabilizing perspective on no matter what…

So just like that, when I see by-products of our global, jet setting, fast food-fast date-fast die lifestyle, it is nothing but a co-curricular activity to classify it. So, this time these by-products happen to be couple. You know…

Convenient Couples:

They know what they are in it for. Simple and Straight. Clinical and on the face value. Resulting in fast and convenient volatile motion of preferences.

Chipkoo Couples:

The ones which are perfect props for fevi-quick advertisements. Jesus, I get bored of myself sometime, don’t know how people can’t get enough of each other. They are together over breakfast, lunch, tea-coffee breaks,(over loo breaks if they could but…well)

Compartmentalized Couples:

A very special and premium breed. Consciously keeping personal and professional life separate. No lunches – no coffees within the premises. Brilliant guys. Respect.

“Lekin mein… Suno too…. Hann par mein, wohh….. Aakash ke ghar!... Copules

Ahh easy fellas. These are the easiest to spot, a guy would always walk around with an apologetic gesture and glance towards heavens to ask what have I got myself into again but taken extreme satisfaction in the whole ‘making up to you’ game.

Weekend Couples:

Life in a strange city can be boring and specially over the weekends and what best way to kill boredom that be with people. So you might see these folks little more frequently over the weekends as compared to normal days.

Troubled Couples:

You wonder because you see them fight more than be at peace.

Confused Couples:

“Nahh, we are just friends.” Yes those ones.

The Cute ones…

There is nothing logical that can explain why you find them ‘just about perfect’ Some folks, you find yourself at most comfortable with, you can share the smile with them. End of the day you might just say, “Man, there is something about them…kinda cute.”

Now, don’t be mad at the onlooker. He is just one of you, maybe with a bit cynical but realistic, compassionate but a lil dark perspective on the situation.

Neo

Have You?

2008-07-18T09:11:00.001+05:30

He called at an odd hour, “I’m leaving. At max a month. Just wanted to let you know.”

She knew as much as he did and you could have guessed, it was definitely lil more than ‘just letting know.’

She smiled for him. Said, what people say on such phone calls and hung up.

Sometimes, life is too long for us to handle, too fast for us to keep pace with and too slippery for us to hold on to. Sooner or later we start taking things for granted. Just like it is certainty that Sun will rise from East and will eventually settle on west, you are sure that you’ll see all these people tomorrow as well over the breakfast, in lobby, over lunch, in some meetings, at some club or on street and sometimes at railway stations and airport. Sometimes, because of sheer coincidences or because of created coincidences…

But, the whole dynamics changes when someone is to leave and leave for good. All of sudden her mind reeled back into past. There was a flashback of all the events and incidences passed between them. As the cab took familiar turns, passed regular eating joints and clubs and movie halls, she couldn’t help but think about the time that passed so fast, maybe none of them could have realised.

Knowing he was to leave, it changed the whole dynamics. Knowing that in a month’s time there will be one less familiar face around, unsettled her. But only a little bit and only for a little while. It wasn’t the first time someone was to bid farewell, it wasn’t the first time love-hate relationship was brought to peaceful end by destiny, it wasn’t the first time, her feet were glued with ego, it wasn’t the first time but something was different.

We are never sure and that is good, that keeps us human. Of all the things she was sure about one; he will leave and will leave for good. And just like a phase it all will pass and from distance long enough she will look back and smile at the past. But, she realised something, all this while, the things, the people, surroundings that she had taken for granted. Her own self which she had taken for granted and had discounted her of so many things.

From all the rave parties, late night drives, stubbed cigarettes and joints, meaningless physical encounters, cracked relations and broken hearts, she realized she had taken it all for granted. She wasn’t going to be pretty all her life long, she may not enjoy good health some years down the line, her bare mind may not be able to survive this lifestyle any longer, she realized perhaps all the things she had taken herself for granted.

He left.

He didn’t say anything. There was a smile on his face but his eyes were shrunk. She didn’t say anything either.

He said, “All right, then.” (‘I will miss you. Wish we could..” He unsaid)

“Yeah, you must be getting late. Good luck and God Bless,” she said. (“You are a nice guy. Thank you for all and I will see you when I’ll see you.” She unsaid)

White cab disappeared in the cloud of dust. When it settled down, she couldn’t see him anymore but she realized something.

Have you?

Neo

Selfish as I'm

2008-07-17T10:58:00.001+05:30

I grew up in a nice decent neighborhood.

Good upbringing - garnished with Indian Culture, values and respect for elders and bla

But we all grow up

And when we do,

There is phase between

Your parents stop worrying for you and you don’t have to worry for them

And You become parent yourself and need to worry bout your kids

This is the phase I’m in

I have loved enough people

And guess enough have loved me or made me believe they did

Little over the period, everyone learns

‘Love yourself and rest will follow’

So have I learned.

I do see the flaw in it

Perhaps as much as you can

But you see it is going to take time

Oh hell lot of time

Till then I’m just gonna be me.

And perhaps, here is where I’m me

This is my space

I know I didn’t have to fight for it,

Google gave it to me for free

But doesn’t mean anyone can intrude

Words can mean much more than anything and anyone for me in life

But they lose their meaning without space and time parameters

I’m not William Shakespeare or Dante

My words aren’t timeless

They are as mortal as I’m

Without space and time coordinates

These words don’t mean a thing

And I walk the disposable path of time and space

So those coordinates start and end with me

What you read are nothing but tangents to infinity

I can’t stress enough how much appreciate you reading my blogs

I do

Feel free to draw parallels to my tangents, be my guest.

But please don’t try and find the origin

I’m flattered to read a comment on my insane inane ranting

I know every now and then I come up with a good piece,

I do crave for compliment then

Am just human

But I don’t trade explanation in return to compliments or curiosity

You live in same space as I do but

What is real for me isn’t real for u

what we see might be the same but

my feelings are only mine and I don’t owe them

not to you, not to anyone.

Neo

Trying to pull myself away

2008-07-16T19:57:00.001+05:30

Parting over a text message again

jet plane waiting to take you far away

from this pain

Relieve off this struggle in vain

I’m not even sure if I’ll see you again

You don’t disappoint me,

I can do that myself

I’m glad that you’ve come

That you’ve come through clean

So free yourself and me

Leave …

Perhaps you are already gone

Truth does have a habit of falling out of our mouth,

Well now that it is come

let go of instincts or maybe your emotions

Wish we could live with both of them

But it’s a shame

We can’t

You weren’t truthful to yourself anyway

Am just trying to pull myself away

From the pattern that I find stuck in

From the imploding rage within

From this state am in

Hope you know,

Rule of thumb don’t apply anymore

More you give, it asks for ever more

Find your peace across the shore

I’m tyring to pull myself away

Cuz I know everything comes, if you just let it be

neo

Little by, by little

2008-07-06T12:51:00.001+05:30

You the people fight for your existence

Don’t’ claim to be perfect, you are just free

You dream your dreams alone

And fading like stars you wish to be

No you didn’t mean what you just said

Guess no one does

You can either be honest to your emotions or instincts

I know it sounds foolish but it is true.

Guess, my God woke up on a wrong side of his bed

But it really just doesn’t matter now

You had to give it all away

Little by ,by little

I just asked myself why are you really here?

Walking the path of time and space

Do you realize, it can’t be re-used

It can’t be walked on again?

Your actions are encapsulated in the very environment you live in

They are reflected in every breath you take and

Are pumped with every ounce of blood when your heart beats

Little by little I realize

To love myself and be assured that rest will follow

You seem to have understood this fact really well.

Even if it didn’t follow, you’ve loved your self

And have fought for what you believe you love

Rest is mere dust in the wind and water under the bridge

Little by, by little you made the mistakes

Only to realize you weren’t supposed to

Little by, by little I can see how you are blinded by your priced possessions

Possessions of flesh and bone, you’ve gathered with sweat, tears and emotions

I would love to believe that it is all worth it but

It is only little by, by little you are going to realize it isn’t

It never was.

Destiny gives everyone an opportunity to make an ass out of themselves, little by-by little

But some even want to hurry up onto those opportunities

I see the layer cake

When at the bottom, all you get is shit

Then you fight hard and climb up, you still get some shit

And the story continues until you reach the rarefied environment

So pure and so void and so lonesome when you don’t even remember how the shit even looks like…

But remember all the shit you’ve done to get there is absorbed by the very environment you live in

And is reflected in each of your breath.

My heart still beats for you people

And your karma reflects in each of my breath

And guess mine does in yours

I hope your mirror is able to wish you Good morning

Just like it did for the very first time you ever looked into it.

Neo

Emmm nice guy …. Think again

2008-07-03T08:51:00.001+05:30

You can sweep any woman off her feet u just need the right broom…

Nothing against woman there but honestly - guys don’t need any broom, just a smile would do the trick for you ladies.

So, being nice guy isn’t about ending up last. It defiantly isn’t

It is about having the right broom but not using it

It is about knowing that you could tweak but not manipulating

It is about riding when it drizzles and

Sunshine and raindrops play hide-n-seek

Knowing that someone would enjoy riding with you as much as you would

But not taking that turn on the road to pick her up

It is about knowing the right words

But not placing them

It is about being confident

But not playing your charm

It is not about being scared of the consequences

But only of your own yourself

It is not about fucking it up

But about saving it for someone you care or you would

It is about knowing that someone fucked it all up

But still giving a second chance

It is about seeing her get buzzed

And then rather than saying “so do you wanna drop down to my place

Kicking off your bike and dropping her home

It is about hitting the road

Before C of coffee is pronounced

It is not about the missed opportunities

But about caring for other’s and in return your self respect.

Again, it is not all about being honest

But being strategically honest

It is about creating win-win scene

At the cost of you loss

Being the nice guy is not about being worried about the other side

But cherishing the thin lines

There is only so much you have

And there is only so much she knows…

It is about lying trough your tears

And it is about knowing you were saint

But now you’ve a past

And knowing you are a sinner

But being sure you’ve a future, better than most of them…

Again, it is about wearing it all on your sleeves

And not caring if you lose it

It is about having the right broom

But not using it.

Being a nice guy,

It really isn’t tough, but it takes a lot.

Nice guy, think again.

It is only so much that you know

And so much that you don’t

If you think it is for you then perhaps this is for you …

Just accept it all the same.

And I’m giving it all away.

Neo.

She didn’t deserve Gods break her smile

2008-06-23T13:23:00.000+05:30

She was supposed to leave that evening. He was a little rude to her a day before. He didn’t do anything but get drunk and watch a football game rather than spending time with her. Somewhere on a bloody Sunday morning he felt wrong, he felt void, empty. Suddenly, he realized, this was it. Her bags must have been packed by now and perhaps all he could manage is to catch up with her over a lunch.

He has known all out that he is no good at saying byes and that is why he avoids airports, bus stops and train stations as much as he can. So much so that a convenient phone call is all that he has boiled it down to.

Scared bloody coward peace of shit, ain’t he?

Or perhaps antisocial, emotionless, heartless, outright practical

Or maybe an emotional fool who finds it hard to let go and knows that it is not the letting go that hurts but the other.

He waited in the lobby of the complex until she came. He was wondering…just wondering.

And then she came and the smile was all that was needed to make him feel at peace.

He has heard about her family a lot. Her ma, big brother, uncles, aunts, grand-parents and so on. And then she asked if it annoys him when she goes on and on about her family. In fact, he was annoyed but not because she talks about her family. It always reminded him of how far he had come from his family. How there are weeks when he doesn’t bother calling up home, when he doesn’t pick up the phone and sends a sms, of how he has been home just three times in last year. Where is he stood is what annoyed him.

She mentioned her Ma but somehow not a lot about her dad. And that day when she talked about her grandparents from her dad’s side. He just asked her, “What’s with your dad? Where is he? Why you never talk about him?”

He had never reacted this way ever. He never asked anyone about the things they didn’t want to talk about. He has had friends and acquaintances from all walks of life and he never asked anything but today, don’t know how words just fell out of his mouth.

She answered, “He passed away.”

Normally, he would keep shut, but idiot asked, How?

“I don’t know exactly. He was working in Middle East. He was driving to office one day and got caught in the middle of something he wasn’t supposed to him. And they shot him.”

He almost dropped the spoon. Breath seemed to have got stuck somewhere in the lungs and throat soaked up and eyes didn’t know where to look and face didn’t know how to react.

“We had been there for holidays that summer. After ten days from coming back this happened. I was hardly fourteen.”

Emmm….

“I don’t know though, if that is what it really was. There are million versions to the story.”

He just closed his eyes and wished all this didn’t happen. More so cowardly, he wished he didn’t ask that question.

Her eyes shrunk a bit but she still had that smile. He wished he could hug her but he just felt glued to his seat.

An hour later she left - with a tiny chit in his hand and ever lasting smile through the rear glass-pane of her cab.

Neo

I do. I will. I’m done

2008-06-18T16:04:00.001+05:30

Baby is born, it enters the world drenched in bodily fluids and mom’s blood
Parents and other are happy.

Kid starts growing up
Rather than saying I do understand, it asks why, why not, when, how, where, what…
Kids are not born intelligent but sure as death system and formal education ruins them.

Soon, kid gets into the habit of saying “I understand. I do”
Ok.
Fine.
Yes.

Some remain rebellious but
What follows in life brings them in line.
In line to obey
To accept
Take orders and act as expected

What follows in life ???
School. The beloved school teacher
Whom most of us believe completely and do as asked.
Peers, friends… and their expectations
Homework, tuition classes, sport schedules, GK books and family rituals.
Some remain still rebellious

Opening their horizons to a whole new world of
Youth. Insanity. Freedom. Energy.

There are things to follow then
Assignments, grades, future prospects, career planning, girlfriend-boyfriend issues.

Some still remain rebellious

They eventually go on to obey
‘Yes boss, brilliant idea.’
‘Yeah sweetheart. As you like it.’
‘mom but. I mean… emmm ok. So be it.’

Some still don’t change….

They fight their way through mediocrity
Ask some intelligent questions
Take some bold steps
Air some serious opinions
Take some ahead of the time decisions

Things follow them as well…

Beyond a certain point when they don’t see anything,
They find a girl and get married
Some find and Some don’t
Others keep looking

In any which way, they follow
I did
I do and
I will until they close their minds and hearts with ‘I’m done’

That is it. I’m done.

Neo.

Business, Pleasure and Pain

2008-06-10T21:55:00.000+05:30

This is the thing about being young ambitious semi-professional. You work hard and play even harder. And boys play the ball no matter what.

It has been a busy day at work. You’ve been running around to get things done before lunch. Some kind of rush when you want to pack and catch a flight. Well, you rush for a quick lunch, come back knock of pending work, what you can’t finish you postpone it. Off you leave for your workshop.

It has been a while since you’ve been working. You’ve even travelled abroad for business. Walking through the posh lobby of a five star deluxe isn’t a big deal for you anymore. But this one is different.

You sit through the session. You’ve your share of boredom, your share of limelight and sumptuous supper. But then you want to break free. Stay aloof and move out to the poolside.

It is quiet. Unmoved empty easy-chairs, calm pool surface disturbed the passing by breeze; good old skies are clouded but are kind enough to give way to the shy moon. Then you realize, it wasn’t too long before you sat down right there, singing with your mates and her. Someone strummed the guitar and so long the chords were right, you mixed your drunken happy voice with plenty others that were trying to sing.

You can’t remember when that unsaid, unseen space barrier broke, you remember sleepless night spend looking at the calm poolside. You remember those long five star lobbies that allow you to watch someone long enough before they disappear. You remember coy little stares and glances. You realize you probably know this place as well as you knew your school or junior college. You remember karaoke night at the bar at the merci of the singer. You remember tiny blank notepad and sharpened pencils kept next to the phones, you realize words are missing. You walk around without key to any room. You see people leaving in their cabs and you remember when you waved.

Sweet aroma of the earth smells familiar but it isn’t raining yet. There is none to share last one in your pack, there is none to raise your last sip to. Those chairs are still unmoved, untouched- just like they are supposed to be. Just like you were supposed to leave them, perhaps you should have.

It was business then it is business now. There were sparks and butterflies then there is aftermath and perspective now.

You had a resolve then - you’ve one now.

This is the deal with semi-pro, it is still business as usual (maybe little unusual)

Neo.

Roomie

2008-06-06T20:42:00.002+05:30

Sometime, I feel I’m the stupid ‘Mr. Know it All’

May that be life, work, future, friends or well, Room-mate.

Well, it was year back when a Punjabi guy brought up in Haryana moved in with me. Trust me, I dreaded how the hell we were going to live together.

I was calculative and for him ‘unnis-bis’ didn’t make any difference. I was this control freak that none of your clothes should be thrown on my bed, don’t bring your shoes into the room, keep the windows closed because mosquitoes will come in, be well dressed man-don’t walk around in bare minimums and blah blah bla…..

“This needs to be settled NOW”

I was like, “What the hell man? I’ve equal right.”

He said, “I’m speaking with the third guy and fine, I’ll move out. Big shit.”

He darted into the room and was throwing his clothes into his bag. Pretty much Bollywood style, I tell you.

And a few hours back, I was home, helping him pack.

Guess, some things change and they change for good.

When you subtract a bed from the room, minus all the clothes lying around and empty the whole cupboard next to yours-the room does look strange.

Was a fun day though, we raced our bikes from one traffic light to the other, we were downing a few beers, had sumptuous lunch, settled accounts and bid our farewell.

I always had this theory about room-mates, ‘When the next one moves in, you feel the last one was better.’

Well, let us say I feel little shallow about having such theory.

Neo

8

2008-05-31T13:41:00.000+05:30

Only number after zero that flows through, you don’t pick up your pen, there is no brawl of ink or breaking of nib with eight.

Tilted side ways down and it means infinity. Means completeness, means returning where you began.

Eight is going in circle till the end, means there is no end cause the path leads on the other curve and then yet another

Means going farther away from each other to cross paths once again and then going far away to meet again.

Eight is walk of life, friendship, hardships, relations, broken hearts, bulging voids, two poles stuck together.

Is test to curve but not let your feet on the ground, is to tilt but not fall. Eight is to walk the tight lines between centripetal and centrifugal forces. To balance something that pulls you and something that pushes you.

Eight is a thin line between evening and night. Stepping stone when evening elegantly gives way to the night and the star lit skies.

Oh my number eight

You’re my saving grace

Oh my lucky charm

You’re my open arms

You are my number eight

You are my flickering fate

It is all too grey for me to hate

It is all too late for me to regret

Ohh my revelate

So now don’t hesitate

Redeem yourself

For you are my number eight!

Poker

2008-05-27T00:55:00.000+05:30

So we play a little game of poker, don’t we?

As a kid, I didn’t really play a lot of card games and as a grown up kid I still don’t. However, poker is something that I can’t resist if it is on offer. Don’t know but that is one game that can draw closest parallel with my life.

Two cards are dealt face down, you can see them and continue to play. In the course of game there will be five cards dealt face up on the table and you could use any three of them to make your full house, straight flush or pairs. Now, the fifth card is the river card. And if I’ve the vibe then I never go down till the river card is drawn.

Now, the practical side to the game is ‘Throw the hand that can’t get you the win.’ And my side is if you think you’ve got it then go all the way in.

I think if God runs a club up there in heavens, he will be the master dealer and perhaps house will be ever in profit. I’ve never seen such an immaculate delivery of cards ever in life. Deck dealt so elegantly, I wouldn’t know if he was dealing my life from the bottom or top. Your smile was the sign and sparks between were the vibes, I took up the hand.

I might have been reluctant but I’ve not shied away from betting the whole pot. Because that is how I’ve lived so far. I’m not the greedy kinds of ‘Double or Quits’ but I would never bet on two horses just to recover money. I’m either in or I’m out.

That is how I saw you. I didn’t check you on your bets. When you were in, I thought you were in all the way.

Believing comes naturally to me I guess. I think it is some kind of high for me. Maybe that is the reason, I can’t stay without believing in some thing, someone – or maybe just in you.

They say “Key to no stakes is to push a man to all his money” I guess you just did. But I took up.

In life and in poker the question is not Did I see it or you showed it? or

Did you hear it without me saying it?

It is hard math, these are cards and not people, they don’t change, they don’t speak, they don’t pretend. Fools like me gamble it, others grind it out.

I went down, big time. Fair enough. Taken.

However, I’m disappointed you threw the hand in before the river card could be drawn. Why? That is all for the trust, sparks, connections, commitment, confidence? I don’t know.

Little over period of time I’ll learn how to win. It isn’t a big deal. But what about you?

How long will you throw hands in with fear of losing? Will you realize the value of the hand you just tossed in?

I don’t know.

Be watchful though, if someone calls your bluff. After all, we all play a little game of poker don’t we?

Neo

Going … Went … Was .. Going Back

2008-05-13T01:07:00.000+05:30

When you’ve been half way round the world and then you return home, it is a special feeling. Well, I know it because I just know it. Specially, when you flying back for your parents’ 25^th marriage anniversary and they have no idea about you coming home, it is very special.

Well, I reached Bombay half an hour before expected. The adrenaline wasn’t rushing through to reach home as soon as possible because I’d come to know my mum and dad were not in town. Felt like it was a cruel joke by destiny to surprise me. Well, taken and taken in right spirit.

Cab ride to Barista, Cadel Road, Dadar.

“Saab, do sau(200 rupees) rupaiya hua.” I was bonked out of my brains. I smiled and said, “Bhaiya, gaav se nahi aaye hain. Airport se kya pehli baar nahi ja rahe hain. Tarif card dikho.”

Turns out, we settled the bill for 90 rupees.

Barista, He n She

I stepped out of my cab and then rushed to meet an old friend. Turns out she was waiting there for a while with her boy friend. I glanced at them and smiled. To my pleasant surprise she sprung to her feet and rushed towards me. It got a bit filmy when I dropped couple o my bags and we hugged

In an after thought and aftermath, it gives some kind of kick to have hugged your friend while her boyfriend gives you “wazz up dude?” look with not exactly comfortable glare.

Granny, am home

With all the enthusiasm and ziel, “I’m home, I’m home after half a year.”

And she calls me by my brother’s name and says, “It is good that you are home.”

Well, felt like a long breath just got stuck in my lungs.

Dad, where are you?

Dad was to return home by Gujrat Mail, the next day I reached home. I wanted to surprise him. I rushed to the train station and entered without buying platform ticket as the train had already arrived.

I reached out for the wagon SC6 and when I couldn’t find it, a porter enlightened me, “They detach all the wagons starting from SC3 at Dadar, the stop prior to this one.”

Wow, someone or something was keen on surprising me again. I hate it but what the hell. Run, before dad gets out and sits into a cab.

I called him up again, “Dad, where are you?”

“I’m standing beneath a clock”

“Dad, there are half a dozen of them on this platform.”

“Oh, so where are you? “

“emm, Here to pick you up.”

Hugs…no… we are equal, NOW

Watched a movie in my favorite theatre which had closed down three years back. Had food at a joint which is catering to young crowd since my dad was young. We sat down and discuss the prices of things such as Bhenpuri, shirt-pant, coke, a pack of cigarette and so on. Turns out inflation has taken toll. J

Right then, she called up and she was in town. We decided to meet. I took a momentary leave from my dad (we overlooked my promise that I was going to spend the whole day with him).

I saw her after maybe more than a year and was surprised as she looked really different. She took a while to recognize me as well. I took a couple of spaces and thought we might hug, but then came the embarrassing moment 7 for the day (leave first six for some other time)…she just gave a hand. Aftermath, afterthought, afterexplanation…. “Ahh, Nachiket, I was so damn sticky. It was for your sake that I didn’t…

A couple of days later, we were to meet for coffee at Bandra, Band Stand. As usual, I was on time and she was late. I was sitting down listening to ipod and scribbling something. I saw her walk into café, all smiles and cheered up. She walked up to the table and tilted a bit towards me and I stayed sunk in my chair refusing to move an inch. She settled down on the opposite chair and cutting the smile short she said, “I was going to hug you but…”

Afterthought, aftermath, “I didn’t want embarrassing moment 8. Besides, we are equal now.”

Well, we meet time and time over again and just get equal.

Café / Restaurant? Nope… chai cutting

It has been three years since we passed out of college. Me n my mates, by God’s grace all of us have moved on to better things and spending some money just for fun sake isn’t a problem. I picked up the phone and tried faking an American accent…it was a very dear friend who had returned from uncle Sam’s land after a while. Was eager to catch up. Thought of meeting up at some very high class, posh place to spend all his dollars that he had gotten along. Turns out, both of us were much happy to meet up for a cutting chai (half a glass of tea), some roadside food and seaside fresh air.

Some things don’t change and fortunately some do.

Marine Drive

Something I could not cover this time around. Marine drive is the most beautiful sea face in this world. The memories attached to it make it even more special for me. Missing it was the first realization that I can’t live without sea next to me.

Bunking college and sitting at marine drive- sea face, walking the whole stretch of 6 kilometer until lands end and wondering when will be the right moment to slip in my hand into hers, walking lonesome in the stormy weather witnessing lightings dancing like fairies on horizon, overpowering waves leaping as high as 6 meters, getting dad’s car and belting it by the sea face to 130-140, chasing Porsche on my bike with best friend riding next to me, riding with her hand clasped around me, putting on a bet with brother to overtake a better bike and winning it, those morning walks and Man to Man talks with dad, a quick pit stop after shopping spree with mumma, sitting along staring at nothing late at night, venting depression in nothingness, watching sunsets and then leaving footmarks in the sand, walking up there with half smile and hoping to complete it, walking out with a resolve and lungs full of hope…well, all that and much more is still pending to be felt again at Marine Drive.

Badminton :

Trust me it is tough to move around swiftly with excessive 10 kilos around the Badminton court. Well, excessive 10kilo is nothing but all the flesh n fat gathered during last few months I’ve been leading horrible lifestyle. I was convinced I was in amazing nick until my friend from the other side whispered, “Dude there is something between the frame of your racket, called gutting. May be next few shots you would like to use gutting rather than metal frame.”

What the hell, I was winning points and that is all that mattered. Doesn’t matter.

Hospital :

Bro returned home that night. Literally all fucked up. For a split second I thought someone beat him up real bad. Lip all swollen beyond imagination, eyes sunk in, dirty pretty much torn shirt, drooped shoulders and dragging feet.

I learned that somehow he made it home from Pune and had temperature.

We had to get him in hospital next day.

It was some kinda infection from insect bite and he really was in a mess. I’m lucky that I didn’t have to be in hospital so far and I really am shit scared of hospital.

I’d morning shift that day. My bro was always this smiling n charming ass, who was centre of attraction no matter where he went. I would be introduce as his elder brother most of the places. I mean I always publicly displayed how much I hated it, but deep down I was really glad. To see him lying on bed so pale on drips, it was so killing. I walked into the room. He just nodded and I nodded back. I walked around the room, read up the report chart as if I understood, looked at the drips, checked the bed and repeated the whole cycle of events all over again. Till he said, “Relax Dada, don’t be scared. Everything is fine. I’m OK.”

In that split second, everything just came at stand still and I was so stunned but so happy that bro has grown up maybe more than I have. I was so speechless for next five minutes till we broke ice by talking bout girls, movies, bikes and well other stuff mom wouldn’t really want to know.

Guest with free access to Fridge and Remote control

I loved staying at home as well during this stay and more I stayed at home, increasingly I got the feeling of a guest who has free access to refrigerator and TV remote control.

Standing by still as the whole city whistles by in its own rhythm and hurry. Being a complete social misfit and watching the long Marine drive like a tourist, with nostalgic eyes looking at those streets which never lead to nowhere, long coffees and quick lunches, evening bike rides, favorite movie halls and flee markets. All and all it feels, it is time. Time to head back.

Don’t know where….maybe here..

Neo

Sideways down

2008-04-14T08:33:00.001+05:30

Tell me where this joke got higher

Tell me where this flirt got serious

Tell me when the future got heavy on us

Tell me when things started moving sideway down?

Everybody fucks up and that is just the way it’s been going around

Maybe I should now move along

Maybe drop of blood .. a drop of love is what you want

You’d found someone who makes you laugh,

Give it all but that’s not good enough…

You’d found someone who said he would stay

And stick around but that is not what you what you want

We slipped at the start and

Dragged the whole thing sideways down

Starting strangers

We end as ones again

But lot of emotions have flown under the bridge

And can’t just join the points

To get a picture

Cuz afraid it might be ours

But without colours

Without feathers

Without dreams and unknowns curiosities

And without butterflies in stomach and fireflies around

Under bright sun bathed skies

On Flawless beaches

Around tall and lonesome mountains

Among old ruins

With best friends

You walk with a smile

Smile….

Because if it is true,

What you said…

There is long way now…

We fell out of our place

Although we played our part

Our part to blame

Because when you find something so good

It is hard to focus on what is wrong

In the end, what hurt the worse

Has been resolved than the first

Because now I know what you said…

Nothing went misunderstood but

Mystery did lead to doubt

If this is what you were waiting for

yeah was good thing to leave it the chance

Because now I’m picking up the message and have been closer than ever been before,

If you still have something to say, then say it to me now…

But now future gets mad at me

and time goes on living

How could I be mad at you

You did what you did and you followed through

You were the one who always said….

But am not sad

Just disappointed

And no am not mad

But just disappointed

Future got on top of you

Working out of your skin

And then you went beneath it all

Just like anybody else would

I’m standing alone in this town

Starring around and wondering how to get out

And words don’t really fit

What I feel for you

And no-one is in love, maybe just misdirected.

Neo

Give me a place

2008-04-08T00:08:00.000+05:30

I’ve flown over 10K kilometers over last few days, I’ve been in more than a couple of countries and a few capitals and cities glittering with blinding lights, I’ve been in the black-forest and on the crowded over packed buses. I’ve ridden my bicycle and have been also received in a C-class cars at the airports…I’ve met some interesting people but have bid farewell to many more who’ve been closest and dearest to my heart…and come to think of it – amongst this turbulence, airports now have become places where I can think, I can write and I can feel without relating them with people and bittersweet memories.

Once, you check-in, you see your baggage go rolling down those conveyer belts and what can’t go on conveyer belt you leave it outside the door, just like you’ve tried doing time and time over again.

Standing outside the gate, blowing the last cloud of smoke in the air…you can’t help but think of last time when someone escorted you to the airport or of the person who was on the other side to receive you.

Each place is tagged with people you’ve been there with, it is sprinkled with a smell, a picture, a memory, it is laced in your doubt and it is always something you are thinking about…

But these waiting lobbies have become mine now, just mine… I am safe here, I’m alone here. I’ve my space here, I’m always in my elements here. With or without over-packed baggage I’m always comfortable here. However, I can only keep him in exile until I’m supposed to board my flight, then I’ve to leave this place, I’ve to let him free.

Greedily, I rush to some more places and I beg for some more places. When the dust settles, I just want a place, a place where I would find myself, without turbulent memories and stirred up existence. Where, I would feel at home but be free from any remembrance of anything.

I want a place like this waiting hall but minus waiting, minus my baggage, minus closed doors and minus pseudo loneliness.

I just want one sweet little place of my own…

Neo

blink

2008-04-03T23:41:00.000+05:30

You wake up, not sure from the dream or from a nightmare or from a tired slumber, you are not sure what…

You’ve heard the breaking voice and are now sticking your head out of the glass window, you look out, the horizon is filled with smog and cloud, so homogeneously mixed that you can’t make out what is what, down there is the shimmering of lights, at the first glance looks like bunch of tiny little stars bundled together and sprinkled around, looks like flickering crickets trying to tell you something…

The sky isn’t clear for you to see the skies, the sun has just escaped leaving the diminishing twilight behind and the you are approaching your so called destination at 500km/hr.

You lose altitude a few meters per second and before you realize those shimmering lights come to life and give way to your vision to see the city, the city waking up to go out in the evening, to dress up and shine up to step out n step up.

You see those zillion vehicles jamming the city corners, losing altitude that fast you slowly start seeing or perhaps dreaming, you pass those huge roads, see residential areas or perhaps they are industrial but how does it matter…you are dreaming by now perhaps…

A dream, a city, a blur face painted at smoggy horizon and your favorite song running on you ipod. You come further down and then finally fly over so close to that street where perhaps once you wished you stood and starred at the skies and the coming by planes till your neck hurts and then you would have looked at the familiar face smiling back at you, assuring you.

In split second, the rubber hits the concrete and bang…. You feel it, you still want to stick your head out but all you see is a wing, a blinker and passing by concrete runway. The flaps on the wing go up sharp vertical to help keep the aircraft on the ground and you blink longer, keeping your eyes wide shut to keep your mind with in the aircraft, within you. Pilot guides the machine to rest and so do you pull your dreamy shutter up vertical to bring you wavering mind to rest.

When lights come on, you blink again.

Not sure if you’ve woken up from a dream, a nightmare or a sloppy slumber.

Neo

When you fucking fall in love

2008-03-24T13:29:00.001+05:30

You wake up in the morning. For once you’ve slept peacefully without remembering your nightmares, for once you’ve a few messages on your cell waiting for you to read. You wake up to some people’s good wishes, your cup of warm tea, a smoke and gray skies.

You step up and you know you are going to see her for the one last time before you leave, you know it is your last day, you know this is it. You see her sprinkled with the cold rain drops and shrink-wrapped in fog but with silver lining far beyond on the horizons. Your city of blinding lights is still waking up from the slumber and you enjoy looking at her pretty face as she changes sides.

You've waked down on all the streets, on those which have no names and those which are memory-lanes. As you desperately try and get lost, it doesn’t let you. Most of corners and most of the allies seem familiar; you always manage to find your way back. By now you are aware of her changing moods, spontaneous reactions and her sheer pace and the filled to the brim life.

Songs run through in your head, feet move much faster, no matter how deep you breathe you still can’t accommodate her in your lungs, no matter how many clicks and flashes you shower on her you can’t capture her, no matter how much you scribble you can’t frame her, she smiles and tells you not to fret from leaving and you smile...?

You realize you got to leave behind what you can’t take with you. You’ve your memories and that is about it. Concerts, drunken night outs, philosophical brain storming on the half-penny bridge, long walks by the sea, aimless travel with darts and commuters, window shopping, smiles and blushes, dates when you walk next to someone and foot bills, familiar faces in the crowd, green parks, romantic balconies, dockyards, rough neighborhoods, familiar streets and alien addresses, coincidences and staged accidents, heartaches and honest giggles, mind frames of seen it all and done it all and then innocence and insecurities of teenager, interesting company and some romantic walks, her smile and zeal and grace, her company

For all that Dublin has taken away from me, the city has given much more in return. Maybe enough to last me a life.

And that is why, it is fucking difficult to say Goodbye when you fall in love with the city, the perception of the city, with the people, long-walks and lingering evenings.

I still have 20,000 breathes before I board that ugly looking flying machine and am breathing you in…

neo

Good things happen only at the End

2008-03-19T05:10:00.003+05:30

One needs to eat before they go to bed and the food just tastes better if there is an interesting company and delicate ambiance. That is when you eat not to refuel yourself but to connect with others, to smile, to speak, to enjoy and to live and live to fullest.

It is a new place that you are off to with a person you’ve know for a very short bit of time, you aren’t keen on impressing but curious to get to know a little bit more. You aren’t going to be what you are not but at least you want to be the best you can. Skies are as clear as they could be, wind factor is just about enough to keep you going for those couple of kilometers and just about enough topics and familiar common people to talk about.

On one side you want to be candid at the risk of sounding abrupt on the other front you are fighting the calculated, balanced and moderate sharp mind and admiring the beautiful person. Menu card appears to be one of your university question papers where nothing is familiar and prices don’t look very friendly but you don’t seem to care. Amidst of a very interesting discussion other person takes a bit of fresh mozzarella and as the person relishes it to the fullest…you are waiting holding your breathe for the person to complete the sentence that was left incomplete. And you find out by the time they gulped it down, turns out … they realized ‘You were smart enough and didn’t need any more background information to grasp the gravity of the situation.’ Well, sure I’m smart but I pay attention to details and I love to hear someone speak over the glass of wine. However, you smile. Look at the flickering candle, nice paintings on the wall and the steal a glance and one of you says, “The food is delicious or wine is classy and rich or the worse one….. So What else?”

You get some deserts, smile some more, talk a bit, brush by some more topics and put your coats on. It has gotten a bit colder and you do give it second thought but then you decide walk. Many excuses – you are full, too much of food, it is just around the corner or it is just nice to talk and let the evening sink in and enjoy every bit of it without any rush and chasing cars.

You know you can’t sing a song to save your life but you still hum…fumbling for lyrics. You don’t always find common ground to talk, to agree and to proceed but you walk and walk steady.

While you cut the last corner, you realize … all the good things often happen only at the end. Perhaps like the desserts after meals and warm hugs just before you leave.

When you know time is slipping out of your hand and it is slipping by real quick, you learn to make most of it. Only pinch is you can’t help but wonder, “Emm, well why couldn’t it happen a bit earlier…perhaps there could have been enough time…”

Life isn’t that calm, balanced, thoughtful and calculated and it also isn’t that immature, childish and spontaneous but it is an album full of beautiful memories, unfortunately we don’t have negatives left to take out some copies.

Neo

Lost Choice

2008-03-14T21:41:00.000+05:30

When you don’t have anything left to choose

You have nothing left to lose either

I let the moments slip from my hand

Held my breath little longer

Pushed myself little farther

Held emotions little to tighter

Tried to look beyond the cluttered mind and clouded skies

Hoped for the better future

Had lived the past in present 1

And knew answers to future were in Past

Now as I connect the dots -

A picture appears that I am not afraid to see but disappointed to keep in me

It is tough and it always is

Loving concept of love has been the fatal error and will always be one

Placing one’s happiness in other’s hands is the most stupid thing but

One may take great pleasure and pain and pride in it.

So one does.

One day you are relieved from your duties, obligations, feelings and all the unsaid promises and unseen dreams

One day you are hung up on

One day you are left confused

One day you question

Other day you are sure

But you question again

You say that was all that was to it but

Life doesn’t work that way

Simple because world is divided into two

Haves have nots

Feelers thinkers

Doers Dreamers

Impracticals n Practicals

World is divided between you and me.

I knew I never had a choice

But if there is nothing left to choose I don’t have anything to lose…

To fight or to win either…

Neo

Only if Relationships came with Expiry Dates

2008-02-27T12:41:00.001+05:30

Consume within 12 hours of opening lid >

One night stand

Store in cold, dry place, out of reach of kids.

Fling

Discard when the taste changes to bitter.

Commitment without investment.

Usable for one year and then can be refilled.

Contract Marriage.

Take after consulting your Physician

Arrange Marriages

Two Tablets whenever, however

Quick Convenient Sex

Made for each other… Oh that is a delusion caused due to …lack of Practicality n other things… u won’t know …

Guess, I'll be wiser next time I go shopping

Neo

Believe

2008-02-21T00:12:00.001+05:30

I’ve a friend, if she would write what she told me she would write it something like this :-

All things might be connected, but they are simple and beautiful. You need to see it.

I’ve not seen you this intense in long time, what’s matter with you. What happened?

For once you sound concerned but not angry. May be disappointed but you aren’t rolling up your sleeves and letting your tongue loose. For once I’m seeing you think beyond yourself and you want to give up yet?

Life has just begun. If you think this is all you had and you gave it all and it isn’t working, then maybe you haven’t given it all. Give some more and have patience. Remember when we used to stand by the sea and used to see that old man feed pigeons. You always rushed to feed them and what happened; they all flew away, didn’t they?

Remember how proudly the old man told you, “They are mine and they will always come back to me.” You just frowned and threw all the bread-crump away and ran off. He said something on your back, you didn’t hear it but I did, “They don’t come easy. They don’t stay if you try and hold them back. Instead, smile, have a clean heart and feed them all that you got and watch them take onto the horizon. Don’t run after them, have faith – they will come back to you.”

Life isn’t sweet lofty dreams but it isn’t compromise and why should it be? When you are convinced be convinced.

I’m so happy to hear your voice today. You are like that child who is not hurt by the wound itself but with the fact that no one is there to soothe him. Don’t be. One gets what one can handle, just that it seems difficult at times.

I’m not here to promise you anything, I don’t think I can. I can’t predict future neither can I change your past. Presently, you are miles away, I can’t even give you a hug. But since you are still listening to me,

“I want you to believe in yourself. I want you to live your feelings. Trust in them not for anyone but for yourself. Be honest to yourself and be patient. Be honest with your feelings for as long as you can be. This isn’t poker to say double or quits, but still give all you’ve got. And Relax a bit. Don’t’ theorize everything because you can’t and you shouldn’t. Keep your expectations apart from your feelings for someone. Although, don’t deny your instincts because that is what makes you human. Don’t be afraid of consequences because that is just another word for unexpected results. If your love, honesty and feelings are enslaved by time and circumstance then I don’t think you are the friend I’d met. And hey take it easy. Go early to bed, guess you’ve got office tomorrow.”

15th

2008-02-15T13:52:00.001+05:30

14th

2008-02-14T04:13:00.004+05:30

Up until I was 17, 14^th February didn’t mean anything more than my grandpa’s birthday. But then, when I found myself tucking my shirt in, polishing my shoes and borrowing hair gel from a friend, I definitely knew there is more to it. But considering it took them upto High Middle Ages until the day was associated with romantic love (well, maybe there are other types of love too), I definitely picked up well with in time.

Today, as I stay awake through unearthly hours, watching the clock tick to 14^th, I feel a lot different. I work in an industry where Coca-Cola invented Santa. So, I’ve kept my eyes open so far for all the consumers. Those tiny heart shaped chocolates, those roses manicured carefully to look natural and yes, those greeting cards, have been mere products I had to get outta basement and make some bucks for my company and myself. That is all that they are to me.

Wait, roll back a bit, not a lot - a few years, when I bunked my college and rushed to the suburbs to pick her up, she made me wait as she had that quick-fix beauty parlor visit. Trust me, when she walked out, I was convinced that she was the only beautiful girl left on earth and I was so happy to have found her. I handed over a pretty flower to her then. 18, how stupid can you get? We did the typical stuff you know, went for a movie, popcorns, held hands, walked out to a nice restaurant, had a nice lunch, then ice-cream and then long walk by the sea, till the Sun set down.

Now, I see all these people purchasing things for St. Valentine’s Day, I feel thoroughly happy that our seasonal campaigns have paid off well. Consumers haven’t let us down again. God bless them. I wish we had some more saints. I mean why not, are you satisfied with having just one day to tell her/him that you love them?

I mean, today is the day you confess that you love them, why not have one more when you can officially say sorry for all the shit that you’ve done, maybe another one when she could all cry out and maybe one when Guys could be Guys. I’m sure the consumer culture we are in, we’ll find some more days. And guys like me won’t be out of work.

It is yet another day, you are right. However, smart breed of animals we are, we utilize this day to say I love you, am sorry, let me make it up to you and so on and so forth. We would expect something to be different about this day, radio stations won’t be tired of playing love songs, you’ll see enough pink on television to have you convinced half a world has gone gay, you’ll see long queues outside restaurants, bars, pubs and discos. People will dress up their best for their beloved ones and so on. All of this hype, sometimes pretty much gets me to believe it. Perhaps this is the DAY. But I’m still a sales-guy at heart I guess.

….

I’ve called up grandpa and wished him. I also tried convincing granny to take him out for a date. I wish they go for a walk outside. Where they would walk next to each other as they have all their lives for last 50 years.

…

Day has gone by well, am on my way.

Emm, I didn’t mean to buy it but that little girl just walked by with those pretty flowers and I just happened to have some loose change in my wallet so, that is why this flower. Nothing special about it..

Looking at empty horizon, I wouldn’t like to admit but somewhere deep within, 18 year old still lives who is saying, “Come on, Just give it a shot. Worked once, at least give it a try.”

He chuckles, I breathe.

Neo

Carefully

2008-02-09T18:52:00.001+05:30

I’ve walked enough and climbed over enough mountains

All this while have I been in search of an oasis?

Don’t know

But I’ve watched the earth go in circles hoping to get closer to the Sun someday.

Some days she bathes in the pure warmth of Sunshine

And she pulls on days in the slumber of dark nights

I’ve kept going just watching her go on.

Now, I’m tired and broke.

I’ve lost my spine

I’ve lost my smile

I’ve lost my home.

I’m poor now.

I’m down, not having enough strength to stand up for my dreams

I hold my dreams up-close tightly to my heart.

Please, Please…as you crush my dreams under your ruthless feet,

Do it fast but do it carefully,

I know they will crumble and go down and take me with them.

I know they will shed silent tiers

And I want to hear them cry

I want to see them break

I want to feel them disappear in no where.

Please crush me and take away all that makes me- me.

But do it carefully because I don’t want you to miss

I don’t want another bruise that won’t bleed me to death

I’m sad but not afraid

Stamp over my dreams but do it carefully

Don’t turn back,

You might shed a tear or two.

Please don’t

Be careful.

Neo

What you bring to the table

2008-01-11T02:42:00.000+05:30

May that be game of poker, talk over the coffee or upfront across the table discussion… It always matters what you bring to the table.

I’ve dreamt of pulling of bluffs and as a matter of fact I’ve pulled some off. However, real life is way different that a little game of Poker. I’ve betted high right from the three cards on the table up until the fifth one, there wouldn’t be a drop of sweat or freckle of anxiety on my face. And yeah, more often than not I’ve swept the table and walked clean with my bluff.

But, this time around am scared, not about the cup of coffee but about that across the table discussion. Neither I’m playing poker nor am I wearing my heart on my sleeves. This is about hard business. This is about results, about team work, about delivering, about initiative and it is about contributing.

This time around, I can learn a lot and take a lot out of it however; my pockets are empty as I drag myself to that table. My wits won’t help, its time to put the thinking cap on and sprint shoes on and pull the got damn socks up.

Hey, hope you listening, would love a stroke of luck…

-Empty pockets

Meeting the X

2008-01-06T15:29:00.001+05:30

Now, I’ve come to terms with the world I live in. It is fast food, fast love, faster death. However, of all the byproducts of this jet setting metropolitan lifestyle ‘meeting the X’ is something I hate the most.

As a kid I didn’t particularly love Algebra. Algebra was the devil that introduced ‘X’ in my life. X is a variable. Something you don’t know, something which can assume different values, something when changes sides in the equation -has a potential to become positive from negative.

Days passed by and we all grew out of the books to look at the prettier things in this world. Romance read in books, seen on the 70mm screen and painted on the canvas of tender, innocent mind soon turned out to be an illusion caused due to the lack of realism.

I don’t remember when the words like dating, hook up, flirting, fooling around, friends with convenience and break up became integral part of our urban dictionary. And along came X.

We are humans, we all have needs and our journey is to satisfy them and be contented. We have all the rights in the world to make due mistakes, to take undue chances and find what we think we are looking for. In this course, we do end up breaking some hearts and also get ours broken at times. It hurts but why do we have friends, drinks, smokes and rebounces.

Problem is X remains. May it be minuscule bit of it but some traces of X remain. And there can be one zillion reasons why it is inevitable to meet X but one has to. You’ve to and she has to. Now, this factor X is crucial. Like I said, it is a variable, an unknown, something that changes to positive from negative when on the correct side of the equation. Well, I trust Gods who gifted us with grass, but I don’t trust the grass for its intrinsic properties. I trust man but not the alcohol they invented.

Well, I find peace in knowing X too stands for a cross. Perhaps the cross put on the equation that doesn’t hold true anymore.

Bittersweet symphony is this life. Trying to make ends meet, make some money and find someone and then you …

Neo

Jet plane hasn’t arrived yet…

2008-01-02T10:07:00.000+05:30

As I impatiently wait for my jet plane,

I hear the same old boring voice of an announcer… the departure of the flight IC209 has been delayed by one hour due to the late arrival of the incoming air craft…

And I wonder, why am I never at the end of the world from where I can board this incoming aircraft for once

Or am I not destined to board the aircraft that will depart on time

Or they fool with me and all of us when they announce “Incoming flight is late”

Or am just a fool who thinks and then thinks and then contemplates and then procrastinates

I don’t know

But here comes the favorite part…that lingering wait and losing battle with my non- existent patience.

When those thoughts refuse to leave your mind

When you remember that you started with days, then hours and then minutes and now you are counting seconds down

When cramped seats at the airport and non-functional wi-fi connection doesn’t bother you

When you forget about all the hassles

When you feel alone amidst of the crowd

When you sip on the coffee and wish you had it with someone

When you look at your mobile to check if you missed any call or sign of any new sms

When you look at the empty screen, silent screen of your laptop

And for second wonder, if it could speak what might it say to you

What all you might want to say to your laptop.

Somewhere at the bottom of your heart you are grateful to it …for being there and registering all you insane emotional ranting on the flickering silicon screen.

Am I leaving or am I going to arrive?

Am I coming to what I left a few days back?

Is there anyone waiting?

Will those moments last longer than this wait?

Will I feel I belong somewhere?

Guess, it is time to board.

Jet plane has arrived. Just like the aircraft doesn’t know to let its wings loose as it has landed at home or borrow some strength to depart for unknown, I don’t know it either.

Neo

Hold my hand

2007-12-17T19:57:00.001+05:30

Buy it or sell it

2007-12-14T18:15:00.000+05:30

I should start my day with a thought, with a helpful
thought…something on the lines 'Customer is a king. No, Customer is
God. God is there and therefore, I'm alive. Therefore, I can have my
bread and butter.' Professional hazard, do you understand?

I'm not all that gray and old but today I stumbled upon a thought,
either we buy it or we are busy selling it. I'm sorry, let me speak
for myself, I'm either buying it or selling it.

May that be my boss - I'm trying to sell the idea of how I'm better,
how I've made difference
May that be dad - I'm convincing of what I've done and what I've not
May that be mom- I'm selling my 'too good to be true' image to get pampered
May that be younger brother - who I wish believed I was his superstar
May that be my girlfriend, I'm begging to - for something
Or apologizing
Or convincing
Or manipulating
May that be my best friend- I'm crying out loud for his company or
moral support

I'm selling

Nothing really happens without a purpose, does it?

Doesn't mean I'm never on the other end…

How often have I said, "such an ass" but I've given into my brother
How often I've known the face behind those plastic masks but I've smiled back
How often have I seen through that sweet innocence but committed the
same mistake
How often have I responded to 'we did this for you and …
How often have I gulped down a deep breath and said 'it is ok. Shit happens'
How often, have I said, 'I understand, you think it is a good idea but
there is no bandwidth for it right now'
How often have I agreed, 'yeah, you are right probably, it is not
going to work out'

Well, one too many times I suppose.

So, do you buy it now? We do things with a motive and otherwise we
react to things done with a motive.

Buy it, not because I'm trying to sell it to you, because it is true.

Gods don't play dice with our lives and we are no saints and there is
nothing called as a coincidence.

Neo

P.S. : Please don't buy it, please don't get convinced. I still
believe a smile needs no reason to lighten you day up, a hug doesn't
ask for anything back but two arm and a warm breath on your shoulder,
a child doesn't think twice before it holds your hand, none can love
more selflessly than a mother, there is not a single one proud moment
in a father's life than to see his son settled and…
And when you love someone from the core, you are beyond questions and
explanations.

Believe me, I'm not sold. Am not compromised. Am not contaminated. I
don't think green. I may not be innocent but I'm not fake. Trust me.

C for C

2007-12-04T13:13:00.000+05:30

C for cause

C for choice

she says C for chance.

C for curiosity

C for craving

C for could we

C for caressing

C for cuddling

C for chatting up

C for convincing

C for confidence

C for commitment

C for companionship

C for caring

however,

C for chaos too

C for carelessness

C for confusion

C for change

So you C sweetheart, me and my fumbled life are open ended bracket - you C

C for complete me, please.

Neo

Beauty, Paradise, Maple and Gun Power

2007-11-28T13:57:00.001+05:30

You jump out of a shikara on the tiny jetty and stamp into the puddle

You look down and then slowly lift your face wrapped in that sorry look

And you see those eyes giggling at you

You can’t help but notice that freshness n innocence

Her face so undone and original

No touch of any makeup and mascara

Pretty face with that obvious scar on her forhead

Which she must have got when she was a child

You freeze to death while she enjoys the chilly wind on her face

You drag your wet feet while she passes by like a warm breeze in a late autumn of Kashmir.

Oh! Kashmir. It indeed is a paradise.

Emm, couldn’t help but think of Natasha then.

“I came down from Hyderabad yesterday. Today we drove down from Pune and then I hopped on to a bus then a rikshaw and here I’m. “ I continued “and I got to go home, write a couple of emails and me and my folks are off tomorrow morning 5.” I saw Natasha’s eyes looking at me with a pinch of surprise and an ounce of envy. She said, “Dude, go have fun. Good that we caught up today. Enjoy your holidays.”

Dad and mom slogged their...emm watever off, they took care of their social and official responsibilities and bro travelled from Ratnagiri to Karahad and then Pune and now we were almost set to leave for Srinagar on Monday.

Monday 5 a.m.

“Yeah, be there.” I hear dad on the phone, “No. wait at the Mahim Church, yeah… that big junction. We’ll come in a cab and then you follow us.”

As far as I remembered these were going to be our ‘Family Holidays.’ You know the kind of family thing to do. And this one was to be special because all four of us were to go travelling after four years. But, then I just heard, someone accompanying us to airport. Now, we are no rock-stars that some fool would get up that early to see us off at the airport. I couldn’t help but give that puzzled look to mom and she quickly answered, “One of your dad’s friends is coming with his wife. They haven’t travelled at all so far and they really want to. So, yeah …your dad said yes.”

I only prayed that Air India’s some special rules and regulations would help us get rid off this extra baggage. Later, dad tapped on my shoulder settling into seat next to me in the aircraft and said, “Son, we shouldn’t live for ourselves only. I know you are little annoyed but relax. It will be fun.”

I shook him off but deep down I felt, I was being way too selfish, maybe.

Monday 4 p.m.

It was chilly wind breezing by at 10 km/ hr and temperature of 13 degrees that waited impatiently to welcome us at Srinagar and yes two more fellas - Bablu and Noor Md our drivers. Who waited for three hours outside airport as our flight was delayed. After having to wait for so long they still welcome us with warmest smiles possible. They quickly picked up our bags and walked briskly towards the respective cars. We got in and our sumo rushed towards Dal Lake.

I could smell the freshness in the air. I couldn’t resist but take humongous deep breathes to enjoy the pure air and gulp the chill in the atmosphere.

We unloaded the bags and got into a shikara (small boat used to transport people and goods in lakes of Kashmir). We were to stay in a majestic house boat for a night before we moved to Pehelgaon and further north in J&K.

Houseboat indeed was majestic. Carved wooden ceiling and panels, wall to wall carpet, spacious hall, giant wooden dinning table, king size beds and tiny romantic veranda.

Cold was gripping us slowly but we hung around in the veranda for an hour or so and then went for a walk around the lake. We only lasted for a little over half an hour before we decided to hit back to our houseboat.

Mom curled up in a warm shawl while brother retired in a relax chair. Dad poured one large of scotch for him and well one for me to accompany we said, “Cheers.”

I gulp a sip down and smiled. All four of us felt comfortable. We didn’t speak much, rather shared a very comfortable silence. Mom couldn’t hide the surprise on her face for being in such a majestic place, satisfaction on dad’s face was evident, brother was little too tired to register much of a reaction and I was overwhelmed to be with all of them on the most happening holidays thrown by dad. More so, I felt we connected to each other and we were to have a great time ahead.

Tuesday –

Mumma bought a couple of grams of Saffron when we stopped at the so called best shop for saffron on our way to Pehelgaon. Considering Saffron cost 120 rupees for a gram, mom did quite some shopping.

Drive up to Pehelgaon was nice. Comfortable and swift, a lot of curves, beautiful valleys, occasional water falls and steady flowing river to accompany us and steadfast snow clad mountains overlooking us.

We reached by 3pm. We were very hungry and the buffet for the package travelers (that would be us in this case) was long over. I found dad speaking to this short man with unshaven beard and messed up hair and ‘I’ve served 100 people their lunch and now I’m tired’ look. His name was Malik, we learned later that he was more or less the one man army for the restaurant, fighting bravely with a small troop of a cook and one helper.

Initially Malik was unhappy serving us as we were late and we were little choosy but then I don’t it is something about dad that gets people on his side. I wasn’t surprised when Malik served us on the house desert and promised dad to serve a personalize dinner if we came at the right time in the evening. However, only for the records, we were only entitled for buffet.

In the evening we did very touristic things – walking around, some shopping, and general look around business. By the end of the day we were dead tired and hardhly anybody wanted to have dinner. So … nothing worth mentioning about dinner.

Aru Valley and missing brother -

On Wednesday, we pushed to Aru Valley. It is nothing but a small village little outside of Pehelgaon. It is very pretty and is famous for being the location of shooting for a lot of Bollywood movies before it was not a practice to shoot all songs in Switzerland or somewhere in Europe and Australia.

We got a chance to ride horses. It was lot of fun to ride a horse. However, moment I got off the saddle and took a few steps I sensed pain in the place you don’t want to feel any discomfort in. But what to do…had to cope with it.

On our way back home, we passed a field. Localities were playing cricket there. My bro, couldn’t resist the temptation to try his hands at it. Me and mom acted like grandparents and warned him, “It is damn cold here, if the leather ball woos by your arms you gonna feel the pain. Forget about it. Besides you don’t know any one ..bla bla bla.” On the other hand, dad supported him and encouraged him. Dad even took a position at long on to take a snap of his sweetheart having a go at a Kashmiri paceman.

Well, bro didn’t disappoint him. On three consecutive deliveries he had his wickets fallen all over ground. We couldn’t help but burst out laughing. You should have seen bro’s face. It shrunk so small and draped in embarrassment. He then convinced dad to let him play for some more time and dad agreed. So we pushed off and he stayed back.

We waited impatiently for him to return to hotel so we could have lunch, but he didn’t turn up. Ultimately, at 3pm we decided to order food and we were waiting in the restaurant. All of talking about him and worry and impatience was evident on all our faces. We kept staring through the window for him to appear. But he didn’t… for a long time.

Then we caught glimpses of him walking into the lobby. I was mad at him but was also happy that he finally turned up after four hours. I wanted to snap at him but then with borrowed nicety and sprinkled sarcasm I said, “Just inform the local police that we found who we were looking for and if you done with your day’s play then be kind enough to join us at the restaurant.”

Dad and mom’s firing followed this and then followed his story…

“I was just playing there. It is safe in here, you folks don’t have to worry about me. It was so much of fun. It turned out that those were the horse guys… Ghodewalle mummaa… and then we played so much that I was damn hungry and so were they. So then we went to have food. They took me to their house. We had some chicken and trust me it was delicious. Then you know what, they dropped me. Dad, I rode horse again. They dropped me here outside the compound and left. You should meet them.”

We all were still a bit furious at him but we couldn’t help but be happy for him, for the fact that he reached the locals, he had the local food and hung around with locals and that is the best way to travel and experience region you are in. Dad ruffled his hair and hugged him.

Before wrapping up the day, we did some more shopping, went out on longer walks, talked and laughed a lot and then had a delicious dinner.

Gulmarg :

It is yet another beautiful but expensive place in Kashmir. To me, it is a well set up tourist village. Where people must come, just blow of their money, walk along the golf course and snow clad peaks, perhaps ski in the winter and stay in star hotels and just relax.

Well, that is what we did, we just hung back and relaxed. Yeah, me and bro watched the India-Pak test.

All this while we were enjoying heavy breakfasts and heavier lunches and dinners. Not to mention once in a while a drink or two heat up. :-P

Friday – back to Srinagar…

Bablu and Noor Md came to pick us up from Gulmarg and then we headed straight to Srinagar. We passed Lal-Chawk, the most famous junction in Srinagar. On our way, Bablu was providing us with a lot of information. However, it wasn’t that pleasant to ears. He told us about the shoot-outs, militancy, police, CRPF, BSF and how badly they treat locals, clash between Pandits and Muslims, discrimination, arrogant attitude of soldiers and so on.

We then came to our hotel. We relaxed for a while and then left in the evening for a peaceful ride of Shikara . Dal lake looks pretty by the evening. We rode around, the water market, floating gardens, Jawahar park, house boats and so on. The photograph says better than I could ever… have a look.

Saturday didn’t turn out as expected. We heard, deputy prime minister was visiting Srinagar. I thought he might be busy attending meetings, addressing leaders, talking policies and manipulating something else…what do I know.

Well, what did I knew, the dude was here to chillax. We learned, he was staying at Centor hotels right by the Dal Lake, then he was to have Kava (kashmiri form of tea) at the Nishat Garden (supposed to be damn beautiful) and then perhaps go for a stroll at Shalimar Bag (another beautiful garden in Kashmir) and then visit Hajratbal (mosque). How interesting, have food, tea then enjoy yourself then have a walk to cool yourself and then perhaps offer prayers. Huhhh….

Well, thanks to him and the security majors, we found ourselves in traffic jams, road blocks and stuck in the car. We consider ourselves lucky that we at least got to visit Hajratbal and the temple of shankaracharya. Shnkaracharya is right on top. We just made it before sunset. I went into the temple and then to meditation cave. When I walked out and saw the sun going down, it felt peaceful. I felt much relaxed. Strain and stress seemed to have evaporated in a thin air.

We had travelled a bit and seen a lot, end was drawing close. However, the hightlight of the trip was yet to come.

Any trip in a land you haven’t been to is marked by the people you meet, interaction you’ve with them, taste of the local food and feel of the culture. And that is what exactly was waiting for us.

On our way back, bro wanted to eat some Kebabs and none but him amongst us eats meat. So, dad told Bablu to drop them at the hotel and then take bro out to eat. Me being the elder one, wasn’t really asked to overlook him but well, I thought would be a good idea to go along.

I wasn’t bored of my folks but sometimes you like to have a bit of your space after being with your parents flat out for a week. So we broke free for a while. On the way back, Bablu casually asked whether we would like to come to his house to spend a night.

We took him up on that and bang, “Dad, we have to catch a flight tomorrow and Bablu is coming to pick you up tomorrow. So, we just thought we would go to stay over at his place, get the feel how is it to … you now … and well, we’re seeing each other tomorrow. I’ll take care. Don’t worry.”

Better thing was, dad said, “Emm. Ok. Be safe and take care. Enjoy.”

Well, I trusted Bablu but then, there was a pinch of doubt in my mind. I don’t know why…

But all turned out well. We went to his house, 20kms out of Srinagar. There was no electricity and one could see the star flushed sky and it was beautiful. We walked into his house like strangers but we received a very warm welcome and hot Kava. His mom couldn’t speak Hindi but his father spoke with us. His younger sister looked at us in surprise, well not like we were animals from a zoo but somewhere close.

Bablu told us, we were the first non-Kashmiris to visit them. And then we being from Bombay invited whole new array of questions.

Have you seen film stars? Who is Bipasha currently going out with? Is it true that Shah Rukh Khan has two bunglow by the sea face….etc…. use

How much do you earn? How big is your house? Do people stay in families there? (Just to name a few)

Typical Kashmiri houses don’t have much of furniture. They normally have big rooms with wall to wall carpets. Furniture and bed minus rooms appear spacious. One always sits on the floor and along the wall.

We were literally pampered there. They fed us a lot. My brother enjoyed chicken. And then they made our bed for us. We received a lot of love and affection. Felt nice. That bondage and care, well, I can’t put it in words.

Was indeed a cultural exchange.

Next morning we passed the same maple trees, old dusty roads and same guards armed with automated weapons placed at each 20 meters. At the most they might have changed their shifts. There is sense of fear still in the air. When you see an armed man in a uniform at every corner, you wonder why is there? If there is peace then why is he there? I don’t call silence at the Gun point as peace. That isn’t the definition of peace.

There are still a lot of grudges between the locals and the CRPF men armed to protect them. At times locals report that military personnel bully them far more than militants. CRPF guys are armed to protect the residents but hardly do they trust them and respect them. There is still a lot of turbulence under the name of religion. It is evident. I interacted with soldiers, police officers and locals. There definitely is something wrong but I can’t put my finger on it.

There were moments when I didn’t feel like a free Indian walking around in a free piece of land that belongs to this country.

To say the least about the security, I’ve never had so many fellas grabbing my ass and chest and pockets before I walked through any doors.

Well, but all that ends well is well. This happy end came a little late as our flight got delayed by 4 hours at Srinagar airport and then 6 more hours at Delhi airport. I contemplated the idea to go out to meet someone but it couldn’t have worked out.

Me and bro, we walked around the Delhi airport. Then, we just halted opposite the security gates. Emm, sorry if I sound cheeky but one can hardly help when you see Kingfisher air-hostesses dressed in hot red, walking through those curtains. Only to find that one is prettier than the other. We paused for a while to admire the beauty and looked at our Indian Airlines boarding passes and wished they were Kingfisher.

Well, everything has a purpose, as we hung around there little longer we indeed couldn’t believe our selves. My aunt, mom’s sister walks through and we meet each other after one year. That too at Delhi airport. No calls no message we just bumped into each other. Then I took aunt to meet mom and look on her face was priceless.

World is small place, isn’t it (I would love to see this trait with some other people of my preference too…God are you listening?)

All thanx to dad we had a great time. Indeed I owe a big one to you dad, hope you enjoyed reading this one for the starters.

Love you.

Neo

I’m gonna be gone

2007-11-19T00:52:00.000+05:30

I hit the streets of Mumbai, Finally- I must say.

Drove down hard for three hours, just before Sion Flyover, brother took the wheel and sneaked out of our car. On the street paralysed by traffic. I walked through the crowded street and then crossed over to the Sion-Bandra road. Walked on for a while and then caught a running bus. Then to Bandra S.V. Road and then to sea face at the Carter Road.

Hung around with an old friend. And then headed back home.

Listening to my i-Pod and singing out loud, standing on the foot-board of local train. For a split second it felt like letting go of that board … I get these suicidal thoughts sometime … don’t know why

Anywhich ways,,,folks am gonna be gone for a while …

Am escaping some place exotic with my parents and brother. Without my laptop, without any internet connection, without any mobile, without anything that can remotely connect me to the world beyond my physical reach.

I’m so looking forward. I only hope this time I manage to leave all my baggage behind and take my heart and mind with me.

I’ve already swtiched my cell phone off and closed all the office emails. Bags are packed , mom is asking to push to bed…

Just thought of updating my blog and thought of letting you all know …

I’m gonna be gone for a while …

I hope to come back … with something …

Something of my own

Something new

Myself.

Neo

mirrors

2007-11-14T18:30:00.001+05:30

Mirrors

I've seen your reflection
The one,
Which beyond the focal length catches attention
Inverted and magnified

I remember the way you left me
Silent and petrified

I've heard your silence
And turn deaf to your cry for help

I've live your pseudo moments
And called on your false positives

I've watched you as you walked
Through our lives
I've dreamt your nightmares
And lived your fears
I've heard your prayers
And gulped your swears

I've seen you

I know you love that span of attention
Open ended question
Adolescence of innocence
Heart wrenching silence

I've seen you wait for eternity
I've seen you grab infinity
I've seen you flying blind for horizon

I think I've known you

Moments when you prefer pain over pleasure
Obliviousness over salvation
Grief over guilt
Mistake over regret

I think I know you
Cuz I've seen you
I've seen you through mirrors

Neo

kido

2007-11-10T09:16:00.001+05:30

No matter how many years I add to my life or how many sunrises and
sunset I witness or how many people I meet or how many situation I
successfully or unsuccessfully handle, I still seem to be a kid.

A kid who needs zillion reasons to be happy and just one tiny reason
to get upset and throw a tantrum. Life seem to put me into test every
now and then and I seem to fail with flying colours to prove once
again to my self and mock at life that I still am a kid and I guess I
will die like one.

Yesterday, I had all the reasons in the world to smile, to look up to
something and Oh my good lord, you know I had a smile of a kid who is
promised a Disneyland trip. But, hey, life bitches sometimes…doesn't
it?

Well, I find myself lucky that I still have people who welcome me and
put in efforts to enjoy my company and make me feel at home. I really
wonder if I belong anywhere and if will ever feel find something I
belong truly to.

I landed up at a friends place. Well, more than friend let us call him
my mentor. Old and wise. Settled and steadfast. Young and a family
man. Let us call him my saviour for the day.

I stepped into house and I waited. Seriously feeling out of place.
Minutes later he walks out, with his kid.

That was it, that little innocent kid kept looking at me for minutes,
wondering who is this person visiting us on such a auspicious day?
What is he doing here ? what does he do?
Well for all that I know he might have been wondering something else…
but I couldn't help but put all my energy in thinking what the kid was
thinking.

Din't help though.. never does. A kid forgot that kids don't analyse.
They appeal straight to your soul and if you have a clean one you
might just appeal them.

I forgot, it was festival of lights, I forgot what had passed by, I
forgot everything, while we worship the goddess, my eyes were only
glued to this sweet thing.

And finally, kid smiled. Gave his tiny hand and I couldn't help but give mine.

That one moment, when he tenderly let go off her grandmother and
smoothly curled up in my arms is what made my day. He looked at me
with his innocent big curious eyes. Felt like someone looked through
me. I dropped all my pretensions and felt something else. Something I
can't put it words.

That tender touch and his head resting on my shoulder made me believe,
he trusts me, he likes me and his smile gave the brightest present for
the festival of light.

Kid found peace. Kid found his one reason to smile.