I am....

I am 21 and I have a university degree. My parents had christened me with a name when I was born but it has been a long time since it has ceased to be a part of my identity. The name no longer belongs to me. I am as cool and fashionable as any other global being. The gods, by giving the very faculty of discrimination have effectually sown the seed of envy in my bosom. I don’t need lectures on what’s good and what’s not, I carry a thinking head on my shoulders!! I don’t care what you say, I know god’s on my side, he’ll always love his lying angels better than a true man. I am a jihadi and I’ll kill till I breathe my last.


p.s. at a time when India is questioning its leaders and talking of security, I wonder how the collective forces of the world can dam the actions of people who, in spite of being capable of a healthy discrimination between good and bad, have motivated themselves to such an extent of mindless mayhem, where individuals are ‘choosing’ jihad and getting themselves trained just to kill fellow humans………..maybe the Coelhos, the Sharmas, and the Chopras of the world have an answer to this.

Foolish Impressions

We had been kids together; if not school mates then college mates (junior college I mean), and I always believed that these very early friendships seldom undergo any severe critical tests. We were bound to be dissimilar coz we did not share the same sex; while I kept chasing things foreign to my nature, he simply clung to the realities of life, yet the bond remained. Our correspondence insensibly grew sporadic but it never got lost; we would still turn up on each other’s birthdays, for an occasional movie, or just for old times sake. It was more or less an antique kinda bond that required dusting once in a while to make it look all new and shiny.


But now I find it difficult to explain, no actually its quite funny that I should be writing about it. No, no I didn’t realize all of a sudden that I’m in love with this guy; its no good trying to fool oneself about love. You cant fall into it like a soft job, without dirtying up your hands! It’s a queer mixture of awe and disgust that refuses to subside even two days after knowing the fact that my childhood buddy is no longer a virgin. Its strange that I should feel this way when I hardly have a thing for him, but its very difficult concealing or rather accepting that he’s a big man now. I wonder how parents feel when they see their kids take that huge leap towards adult hood??


I know it sounds crazy but all I now see in my friend is his manhood, he is no more that old buddy which he once used to be, or maybe he’s still the same and its just my ineptitude to look beyond, and accept that sex is indeed coeval with our lives, and at the mating age its effects are more obvious to society. Maybe its high time that I grow up, but how pleasant it is to look at the world with the open, hopeful, and astonished eyes of a child, until age begins to play its games….


And really I can think of nothing more to say, and I must bring this to an end…..but as I write, but as I write, the image of two entwined private bodies is beginning to sink deeper and deeper……


Now Playing:: Ay hairathe aashiqui………………Guru

Lights, Camera, Action

The body had gone on dressing and undressing itself, eating, drinking, holding books and floundering heavily into large chairs. The sun and the wind, the stars in their courses, had conspired together to produce a world of dirty monochrome, in which nothing could possibly happen, and I had weakly bowed to their decision with one grand exception. The Stage. I knew at once that my own moment had also arrived, but I was too much bewildered between breathless curiosity and surprise to be sure of it……but, I’ve had senses to perceive it!! The body beneath the spotlight!! The heart within the body beating against itself, a strange singing in the ears, and the body could scarcely stammer. If the time had run out, it would have left the body still at the height of its perplexities, I dare say, but it never did run out. A hundred hisses, the body thought it would hear, but lo! What, an encore? That was one time. The body has been now alone for a while, basking in the moments of private triumph, cold, and proud. It doesn’t matter if the clouds were piling up material for a Niagra, it still, was a “fine” morning!!

Now Playing:: You took my heart away............MLTR

Detached Thoughts on Books

Shall I be thought fantastical, if I confess, that I love to lose myself in other men’s minds. I cannot sit and think. Books do that for me. Period.

I should thank the Native for tearing me away from the growing fascinations of having a threesome with cough, cold, and cramp, and that my dear readers, I know, is a bad alliteration. Ahem! Ahem! So the Native and I decided to meet at the book fair, and hold your breath guys, was I walking with a Gulliver by my side, I mean my body had an additional cramp in the neck by the time I returned home. So much for ‘high-talking’!!

If you are a book lover from my city and you still haven’t visited the fair, then guys you just lost the chance of buying Shantaram for just a hundred. Yes, you heard me right, the ‘old books’ market just got better this time, the collection is absolutely seductive, and what more, it is cheap too. But, it turned out that the Native had a queer repulsion for second-hand books, and he kept buzzing in my ear, “god, how can you have something that had been in somebody else’s mouth”, (yeah, he actually said that), and he wouldn’t even let me read the blurb. “Dude, I’m not going to put these in my mouth, so it doesn’t matter, and I’ll have them anyway”, that seemed to settle things, and silence the ideologies of Mr.Native.

But how the old books speak of the thousand thumbs, that might have turned over their pages with delight!!- of the lone at hearts, whom they may have cheered, after a long day’s toil, when the person would have snatched an hour, and lost his or her mind within the front and back covers. I wouldn’t desire a book less soiled!! So much for my elitism!!

Having said that, the new ones certainly give a pleasure; of enjoying the very ‘feel’ of the paper, the smoothness or roughness of the covers, the look of the frontispiece, and the perfume of the paper drives one crazy. The fresh, white pages that no thumb has sullied, is a possible attraction and every reader is ready to take the plunge. Ah! Who wouldn’t fall for such seduction!! So much for my double standards indeed!!

In conclusion then: it doesn’t matter whether you read an old book or a new one, what matters is your magnanimity in reading and embracing all kinds of books. I bless my stars for a taste so secular, and so unexcluding.

Anyway I got The Catcher in the Rye, The Woodlanders, The Great Gatsby, and The City Of Joy, for just 275, and the Native, got only one, brand ‘new’ War and peace.

Now Playing:: Would you be happier……………..The Corrs

Phir Wohi Raat Hai

There are times when little phrases of a sonata can mean everything to a listener and there are times when it means nothing and is forgotten. Had I heard R D Burman any less, my mind might have become warped and rigid, as from want of space. Had I heard him too much, my thoughts would have exhausted upon too many points, and would thus have been so perplexed and harassed that its outcome would have hardly exceeded a negative value. My daily dosage of Burman couldn’t have been more accurate than what it has been for almost three years now.


It all began with this song, ‘phir wohi raat hai’. I remember somebody singing it, and there was something in the words and music which made me fall for it. That night there was a google search and the rest as they say is history. Over the years as I kept losing myself in some of RD’s finest compositions, the song that began it all paled into insignificance. Until today, when a chance tumbling into a long forgotten folder revealed this treasure. Harkening to it with eyes closed, brought back sensations similar to those originated a few years back. Its amazing that his compositions continue to affect me in the same degree and manner as they did on the first hearing. Maybe that is what is called as ‘magic’.


And it’s the growing power of the ‘magic’ which I fear the most. Therefore, I’ve decided to rest RD for a while, at least till I gather my scattered wits, which keep winding and turning and make me weary of following its mazy movements. Its time to give the earth little tilts and let the spotlight fall on songs which would check my imagination from sinking and floundering. Can there be a better choice than Shammi Kapoor then? Let the yahoooo begin……..


Now Playing:: Tumse acha kaun hai……………Rafi

If Tomorrow Comes

“I wish you could put me right.”

“I wish I could.”

“Why cant I make myself fall in love with you?”

“Maybe you don’t want to fall in love with me!”

“If I could only get myself to do it, that would be the thing for me…”

“But you never will…..are you drunk by the way?”

“Yeah maybe I am drunk, but tomorrow I’ll be sober…….but tomorrow you will still be you……and maybe, maybe, I’ll fall in love with you tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow? This hour seems fine to me.”

“No, lets just talk now. We’ll fall in love later.”

“I hope I’m not dreaming, but didn’t we have this conversation last night as well?”

“Life’s in a mad rush………..we can wake up later, as for now……just keep talking, we’ll fall in love tomorrow….”

“Yeah maybe…”


Now Playing:: Aaj kal paon zameen par…………….Lata

Papa Kehte Hain

As Indians we are expected to be either engineers or doctors, whichever is the entrance that we find easier to crack. It takes muscle and guts to sit for these exams, and I’ve grown old and wise and tired of these competitive exams. And, therefore, dear daddy, do not even try to invest in a lost cause; how could you even think that “I” could ever bell the CAT.


My dad has been upset ever since I refused to sit for the CAT, but what trebles his dissatisfaction is my complete lack of ambition. But, he can scarcely conceive how much two years of disappointment, study and anguish have worn me down. The constant need to live up to the expectations of a family that thrives on academic excellence has drained me of every speck of volition. Post twelfth I wasted two years of my life, running after things that I could never achieve, trying to prove things to people, and dad you probably have no clue, how many times I broke down when I couldn’t meet expectations. There couldn’t be a worse feeling than that. Maybe I am a “lost cause”.


Dad, please do not expect me to make up to the lost chances of the medical entrances by appearing for CAT, and quit drawing comparisons between me and bro. The same blood runs through both our veins, but he cannot be me and I cannot be him. You cant stop beaming about bro’s GRE scores, but did you even know that I’ve been topping every semester, and did you ever care to hear all those plaudits that wrung from a hundred hands just for me?? I suppose, I’m getting a little over-emphatic. There doesn’t seem much point in trying to explain everything, does there?


Graduating in Physics, spells suicide to you, but why is it so difficult for you to accept that I’ll still be there in the world of Newton and Einstein, where two and two make four and not five or six. When will you start respecting all professions even if they don’t get paid equally??


Dear dad, my spirit is broken and there is no way that I can raise myself from this delicious sloth. I’m too much in love with this charmed stagnation and that prohibits me from venturing into virgin lands. Maybe I’ll never do anything, and I’ll never amount to anything. I tried to give myself a personality as per your conditions and I failed and failed miserably. My ambition became confused and then faded. Still, I wont quit trying………not your way though!!


Now Playing:: Chotisi kahaani se…………Ijaazat

A Forgotten Tag

Finally, got the time to do this tag, and Native, I’ve made a few changes, hope you like them…..


1. How many posts-old blogger are you?
Well its sixty-eight on this one and four on my other blog so that makes me a seventy two posts old blogger! Woooo dat sounds like, retirement is due….

2. What’s the title of your first post? ( To be linked )
Hmm…my first post was actually quite pointless. Its called Am I a hypocrite?? *ahem ahem*

3.On a scale of 1-10, rate each of the bloggers on your blog-roll.
Oh! Puhleeze, I’m not a head mistress sitting with a cane in my hand, checking answer scripts, moreover I am a less advanced life form to even attempt to rate any one of them, so lets reduce the status of the question to “comments”.
Ok lets start with people whom I call ‘Apna City Bloggers’; indisch, Sir Charlemagne, dave, and abhishek

Indisch – the thing that holds your attention when you read his blog, is the kind of attitude that he throws in his writings, and of course the pointed brevity which scores so well with most readers. He gives an impression of a cynical individual but believe me he isn’t that morose as his writings indicate him to be.

Sir Charlemagne – honestly, I feel he should consider reviewing his blog name, for I’ve never come across, musings of a muddled mind being so irritatingly articulate. His poetry makes me envious; makes me wonder who his muse might be, and whenever he essays prose ( quite a rare phenomenon actually ), I simply go boy, kya likhta hai yaar!!

Dave – now, how do you expect a Segal fan to be? Here’s a guy who has no airs, believes that “all bloggers are good”, and honestly I haven’t seen anybody take a genuine interest in people as much as he does. The only vibe you get from his blog is positive and that’s enough to explain his popularity. Kudos to this blogger from my city!!

Abhishek – a strange guy with even stranger interests; holds on to some kind of a ‘past’, which he chooses to reveal in episodes. Hasn’t written much, but his love for this city can be very infectious!!
_________________________________

Anand – my first friend blogger, and believe me, he’s a writer in all respects. His posts never unhinge or weaken the mind, they charm and nourish it as only good books can. You have to just read his blog once to understand what I mean. But, there’s only one complaint…….he doesn’t write often!!

As far as BG and eM are concerned, well, their popularity speaks volumes, I’ve nothing to add.


4. Why do you blog?
I blog coz I do not know how to doss about on the net. It makes me sick at times, but once a blogger, you remain a blogger all your life.


5. Two reasons why one should never marry a blogger?
Hmm…..ok, coz it would be super devastating to read on your partners’s blog that he/she faked an orgasm the previous night, and that you weren’t good enough.
Moreover, passionate bloggers can leave you in the middle of the act, coz a blog-worthy thought has just made a foray into their minds, and it desperately needs to be indited.


6. Any blogging quirks?
I cant blog sans music.


7. One word that best describes the person who tagged you?
ELITE.


8. And you are tagging?
Sir Charlemagne and Dave.


Now Playing:: I breathe again……………….Adam Rickitt