Words

had been in a class today which told us more about emotional control and critical thinking. I was consciously gazing at 4 corners of the room waiting for the clock to strike 1.00 pm so that I could make my way back home.

It got back to me now. After four hours. To make your way out of people disturbing their clan with smooth but firm waves isn't a cheesy deal I say. You gotta have that emotional balance, not emotional control as emphasized. And one more thing, one just made me earn a very valuable pebble that adds to my bag half of them. Words are really priceless. Just don't scatter them everywhere possible. If you really want to rejoice, plug in you pod, light up a stick and jot down something if you really care about doing. Silence is solitude,everytime, I take back my word of saying it is,only when it's wine time but not, it's always, its anytime. Just smile when you feel like poking somebody and within a couple of minutes , what not? you feel like you've done a good thing I say. People were not mad men saying that.

I regret wasting my words recently. Shouldn't have done that and I admit it now, next time you come back to me, you'll find a whole new me. The effortless action of a human being is watching something, thinking of communism at the same time and smiling no matter what.

As said by Tyler Durden," We are the bye products of life style obsession" and social networking is a piece of cake of it too .

This thing, emotional balance comes with one spark ignited by a strong driving force from behind kicking on it's ass so as to meet the point. That may be a person, that may be from within too. I see Sandeep gorrepati, keeps smiling and keeps thinking about something that appears foolish to reality. I see Rajeev sarathi, soberness personified and he floats in the eternal theories on Buddhism. That appeared stupid to me and folks, you aren't wrong. That thing of staying dreadfully serene at times keeps you balanced emotionally and what not,you won't lose words.

What more is a quality time, you sit with your old peers after an year or so over few bottles of whiskey, slowly pushing down the liquid and sucking in the ambience thoroughly along with those Indian made sticks and you all smile seeing faces of each others for few obvious accidents happened and the third person would never know and there you live your lives.

Talk less. Live more.

turn on, plug in stuff and die in peace.

okay now! As I gulp down a large dose of winter beer, suck in a large volume of Mayfair and cut the call made to Ashok,I sit down to write this. To be honest, Ashok didn't disappoint me. He was successful in proving himself as anti social and susceptible to vice.

And to Shikhara,my love, I was always brutally honest to you but spare me this time,ain't I. I intimated you this as my signing off note but this isn't. In fact, it's a signing on piece. Alcohol had always been kind to me and I expect it to be too, in the coming future,if at all my bad pair of lungs wouldn't burst out the smoke.

I am pretty aware of the fact that people exist with limitless amount of intellect oozing out of their pens but being a human,I too possess that unhealthy obsession of giving anything that 'one' another try. I know a bunch of wannabes trying to be someone else losing out all their lives and I wish to tell them only one thing said by Kirk Hammett of Metallica. Forever trust in who we are and Nothing else matters. Reading Chetan Bhagat would never turn you into an asshole as long as you keep laughing at his works but as soon as you start seriously desire to become Syan or something there starts the collapse eventually.

This always comes back to me. To pour myself onto a piece of paper. I just don't know and don't want to too why I feel like writing only when I am high. It's again instinct. I believe in instinct rather than in intuition. Just like having faith in Tendulkar rather than in Dravid which is fragile and fugitive but what can one do? Sachin has become God and this had become a habit for me. Helpless and better if left untouched.

Each time I place a pint glass infront of me, I strictly warn myself of staying away from pen. Later, I slowly gave that up as I thought that is the only time when I can actually be myself without shrugging in disgust to meet others' demands. Turning out into a sensible chap from a reckless asshole is basically a lot of thought process articulated and stretches out its hand for more foregoes for which one would be ever ready. That is one valuable and costly lesson I've learnt so far on this West front.

As I keep ressing return button n this mini key board I am losing the so far slutch from on this post and I strongly know that this post is going to be a fucked up one never mind! Oops ! hold on! Nothing else matters!

Plug in your music machine and keep listening to metallica getting ready to face your final avert with so much of solitude in your face so that it scares the hell out of the final foe and be ready to rest in peace.

In the mean while I have a conversation left in debt with Ashok would finish it and yea the last two pints of beer too and I would join you along in the chorus of "Aaaand Nothing else Matters."

Advent of riegn

written on : 22-09-2010

Here I am, in Delhi's International airport ready to take my flight to one of the world's busiest airports which open the doors out into a city which is enriched with bulks of cultural exchange over decades. London.

Somewhere around 7 months ago, I was busy celebrating my birthday ,which is presumably my last in India for the few of the coming years. I didn't knew that it would be last one by that time. Then things took rapid and steep curves ,too rapid and too steeper that they went out of my control, left me as a silent spectator pondering with some bewilderment .

Earlier,I used to have an idea of how events would unfold in the following one week at least.That clarity always helped me to stay out of ambiguity. As said,"Clarity precedes success." But its 11.20 am now and I am not sure what would be this big time loser doing in a city that never sleeps once a millennium if destined to. Wandering aimlessly among the streets of London,with mouth of jaws being dropped half of the time,because of astonishment of the monumental creations and wondering when creators in sub continent would work such an astonishing builds some day. Never thought,education would make such a difference.

Noodlewok, Switch,blah blah...are the names of bake shoppes and juice outlets in the airport.I just feel so bland and left out of feelings to articulate. What exactly makes you feel so strangely numb? Change of place? Change of skin tone? Change of linguistic flavours? Cultural exchange?(never scared about cultural exchange as we had that experience at Lemon tea trillions of times). And now ,I notice this 'always self conscious bastard' wearing all the shirts that could fit his wardrobe at a time to want people to wonder about the count.

One of my glorious bastards said," along with the liberty ,comes the responsibility." Yes. they both do go hand in hand. Look at me. I have money. I have time. I have no people offending me from doing what they call anti social activities. Still I don't feel like doing them. Some thing is holding my back tight.

Till I figure out what it is, Good Bye for now!

Wrecking West and Envious East.

My dream of finding out a proper cafe' which deliberately serves Indian trademark tea and its varieties has come true. I was having another 60 minutes of time in my hands before my college started and I seriously didn't want that time to be ruined.I was searching for some shop which provides me the much required warmth(by fluids) to fight against this climate(not alcohol,this time). But kind of chai and all. I was lucky enough to find one just some 100 yards away from my college.It's name is Cafe' Donatella. They had some 20 varieties of tea listed on their menu ,which got me excited at the very first go.Here,I settle down with some decent music in my ears,warm cigarette sticks and yes,my all time Lemon tea.

I start sipping my tea as the first chilled drop of winter falls on my arm. The contact of drop on my hand prompts me to consume a large gulp from my cup and it all started. 40 minutes passed by and another cup of lemon tea was placed on my table. Then,I find some gigantic creature passing over my head,which dominates the sound of my music machine too.I look up to find that it is an aeroplane tilting towards Envious East.I kind of miss its ambience and warmth ,of late.It strikes my mind back,when I eat a burger,It pops up when I have a dark chocolate,otherwise would be having nice Amma made south Indian meal and a delicious Irani chai. As I write this,'Under the bridge' is playing in my ears.It sings somewhere in the middle,"the city I live in ,is the City of angels.Lonely as I am ,together we cry".That may be true with California but it isn't,with London. London never cries along with you. It makes you cry and it laughs along,when you cry. Great language,glowing lights,glittering nailpolishes,gleaming faces,everything is pretentious. Everything is pretentious. Every thing can be accompanied with the word 'pseudo' before it. Beneath all those,lies the original,dark side.It craves for wealth,wealth and more wealth.If wealthy enough,London is one of the finest places to live and definitely NOT,if you work your ass off for a piece of bread on your table at the end of the day.It isn't of my type. People do their breakfast in tubes. Such a fast place to maintain pace with. People's mindset is like this: If they waste some 10 minutes having a peaceful breakfast with their loved ones,they're gonna lose some £10. What a life ,which can't enjoy a meal a day? I seriously don't understand what makes people run like a Marathon.I used to stand up and resist the crowd running leaving me behind. But as my journey in London is moving,I slowly gave up and you know what the worst part is? I started running along with them too. I fear I have to run all my life to stop and look behind and laugh whole heartedly someday. I started losing hope that,that day would come. To rest back on some fucking sunny day,do I have to run past some 15 or 20 cold winters through which I may live through??

Trainspotting.

It got back to me.Yes,this time,fierce,It got back to me when I am hell scared about the thought that,may be I can't write again my lifetime and yes,It got back to me now,when my palm lost the sense of non violent and yet,the most appealing weapon. I guess,this is some 12th time I watched this cult plot,it was always like something new and fresh to me ,as if watching for the first time. Need not mention,this time too. It had always provoked some deeply concealed,incomplete,shapeless,vague thoughts which would wash off with one expel of smoke from my bad pair of lungs. It took its plunge this time so hard,I gave it a try to wipe off those formless thoughts and surprisingly,as the early morning fog's intensity increased,it became equally and increasingly clear.

Change. Change is ubiquitous. This is what Trainspotting preached me this time. But in a much more effective way than my father or mother or whoever. I didn't get brushed off myself with serious drugs anytime as Rents does in this cinema. But there used to be many other motherfucking addictions,which costed me time,money and people too,to get rid off. Referring me as the most plain plain bastard ever,another bastard gifted me with such a precious possession called "Trainspotting" by Irvine Welsh,but ain't I lucky enough to gather such an

imaginative feast,while my eyes moved down. A moving picture always catches me better. Because,gifted by the most loving bastard I ever have, I have it a hard try and watching the flick after reading the plot is such an eve,I say. I had been warned by the same bastard about people,society and all but it didnt,however,got into my head properly,but now when watching Rent walking off with £ 16k stolen currency,it didn't appear as a crime to me ,because to be honest,everyone would do the same thing in that context. But the whole point is,he is walking off,heading towards the most brightest and unseen horizons of life. Whoever watches Trainspotting for the first time,cannot think of such an ending. A normal human brain might expect all of the four junks doing Heroin all their lives as they did earlier. But as the years roll down into the history,even Adolf Hitler wouldn't be the same as one. Who cares,asking about four fucking jerks,who always wish to be in dopers' paradise . But they have changed. Tommy too changed,who used to be a decent boy-next-door,died of excessive intake of Heroin while the remaining three lads found themselves doing some serious businesses(not drugs,though). That makes something's for sure. And I am glad ,that the same 'something' is 'Change'. Change is quintessential and its inevitable.

And now,I can connect this to myself pretty well. I am wanted to be changed ,by few people. I am supposed t be changed,by nature and I will change,by myself. This time,definitely on a positive take. And one more thing,that demanded a lot of time from me to get aware of,is Individuality. I,no longer care how people around me are,no longer judge a person by the way he lights his cigarette and no longer expect anything out of anyone.

I change.I acquire.I live. Everything for myself and by myself.

Lame introspection

okay now! its 1.12 am. And I am still awake. The disturbing mid night smoke that always tries to creep into my room is trying its hard best to keep me awake and I should admit,its being succeeded.The smoke,brings in with it,scary thoughts of fear,ambiguity and amusement too. I stress the word amusement again,because,at some point of every day ,I laugh at my stupidity to feel frightened by the thought of staying away from my people. What exactly defines 'my people'? I dont know,though. Why should I be scared? The white skins who look at me,the every other day,with a feeling of hatred and alienity(here,i coin the new word,defining the presence of aliens), reminds me of my state of being.Then,I plug in my pod which instantly plays 'Under The Bridge' which is specially written for soul searching bastards like me. I wish my girl would be here,along with me. I dont bother even either the presence of psycho mantis or semi urban punk or dirty harry would do.I came across a beautiful liking liked by my beloved brother Jai Simha ,it goes on like this,"start liking yourself,because you are the only one who is going to stay with you till the end." That makes some sense. Really. I fear I am running out of creativity,my words are lasting and running out of phrases to fill in. As I strive to fit into this new life and get accumulated into new horizons waiting in the line,I never thought this would be my signing off note!

all I can say,Cheers!!!

The Great Indian Dream comes to an End.

This is pretty expected as never. Some 100 hours down the lane,and here I am ,seven seas away from my motherland. Countless hours over dirty,used tables in cafetariae, consuming zillion cups of Irani chai, laughing over pointless conversations. Sharp wind slaps me hard on my neck , leaving me helpless as I try hard to turn back, to steal a look of my pals going on with their usual 'nicotine fixation' , with my presence being filled with void. It leave me perturbed , though. What does it take to make this tiny state of mortality meaningful? Or else , to be called 'immortal' forever till mortality exists in this planet. Stepping in a foreign courtyard and working your knees off?? When people run away in need of their beloved ones to find some coupling for their empty palms to be filled with warmth when gusty winds take their toll,otherwise would be occupied with a stick of tobacco.

Ambiguity surrounds me all over and in the mean while,The Great Indian Dream comes to an End

!

Awaiting answers!

written : 21st august 2010,1.00 am.

Its 1.00 am sharp. Landed up in a motel in Chennai .Missed the bus to Hyderabad. I dont know what its good for. To be precise,my D-day is 10 days away from now.Life's gonna take sharp,acute turns.Everything is going to be new. Change in perspectives. Change in priorities. Change in outlook.The each day,I outgrow myself,I appear very cupid to myself the day before. I laugh at my actions,at my reactions to others' actions. That gives me a sense of completion, and a never dying interest called learning.

I never agree with some bastard who thinks he's matured. What series of consequences would compel one to think and act according to their own convictions? That comes somewhere from deep within. Something which strongly appeals to be righteous to a person the other day,turns out to be the most unhealthy act,the very next day. Nothing's wrong with the act.It remains the same as long as this universe exists. Its all the job of one's heart. Its so flickery, I say. I laugh at it,at the end of the day,when I lay on my couch.

Every night,when clock hits some 11,my introspection starts.The acts I performed ,that whole day get underneath the sheath of my introspection,few filtered,few accepted put me to sleep with some restlessness and much of contentment. I promise myself to get out of the bed,the next day,act along my convictions,say 'no' very certainly to some mother fucker ,who's so predictable to waste my lunch time with, and to go on an extra mile to soothe my power pumping side. And then breaks the dawn,raising the curtain off for an other predictable day with familiar choices,usual 'yes'es and much usual disappointments . I compromise myself to finish some project the next day,its a part of my daily ritual of unwillingness to accomplish something worthy or even 'laziness' would do. Similar disappointments when 'she' considers it as a 'torture' to receive one single text a day from me.

What would it take to a man to act according to his convictions? Decisions he make,which would never be regretted later? I dont think such a thing exists. If you are the one,who believes in growing yourself out,the every other day,you should definitely regret the foolish(wondering,they can be called so?!) decisions made in the past.

I find this whole thing ambiguous. As it did earlier,time unfolds the answers. I hope,after all.

Annayya

blogging,ages after.We,die hard fanatics,call him "annayya".Dont mistake him for the big brother 'Megastar',but here comes the borther of the brother 'Powerstar'.

I've been suffering of this disease,lack of stimulation to write about something.It has got manyu reeasons,cal it lack of driving force,lask of motivation,lack of that flow,anything.

but a conversation,i had the previous night,with my borther Jai Simha(we fans of Pawan share this bortherhood of fanatism).He unknowingly succeeded to a very great extent in stimulating my desire to write about this

Man.There's some hidden meaning in using a capital letter "M" for the word "Man".You guys will come to know by the end of this post.And now,i am all set ready to write about our hero.

Its been whole 18 years,since he had been in the industry.He made his debut as any common unknown successor of a big star, already sharing a huge stake in the industry in terms of number of hits as well as limitless fanatism.

First cinema hit the screens and went off into this big history of telugu cinema as a flop.People started taking that young lad for granted and shot comments on him.But he's the man.Way ahead of this people.Far away from appreciation,applause and yes,the thought process too.

Then came, two another ordinary flicks from that man, registering moderate success and were declared as so called "commercial hits". But by then, there established a mannerism, which cannot be copied. He started to occupy place in the hearts of those people who were searching for their hero with few obvious traits. Time passed by and then, a man called Karunakaran, who’s pretty smart in writing romantic scripts came up with a script called “Toliprema” and everything from then, pre production work and script finalization were finished, then luckily ,the movie went onto sets. It took as much time as any cinema takes to complete all the work to hit the halls. On one fine Friday morning ,that went onto the screens and then the mania started all by itself. All the magic was done and released onto the people. They received it like a precious present. Yes, that was a classic. That day saw the birth of a super star, probably the youngest super star who achieved that cult status only with an age of 3 movies in the industry.He simply rocked in his own way.

There after,any flick of his,would hit the hall and leave only with 100 days title.Particularly,I m forced here to say a bit about “Johnny”. Story,screenplay,direction and action by Pawan Kalyan.People were waiting like hell for its release. They were disappointed. No,I am sorry,he was disappointed.He was way ahead of this people’s thought process.One can observe Akira’s mark all over the screen.I still don’t understand why people couldn’t receive Johnny properly.I was just dumbstruck by the way movie was unfolded.I bet no actor in this industry would be ready to receive a slap from any other character in a movie as our brother did.It was just like seeing a person who sits beside us in a café,the every other day.That film was a classic,I say.

As Jai Simha puts it this way,Give him a budget of a Hollywood movie and leave everything else to him,and then 2 years down the lane,you would see a cinema you would have never seen earlier. (I can see Jai smiling while reading this ).

Even his fans ,one would find them diehards. I know this guy who flew all the way across seven seas to watch Jalsa amidst whistles and papers dancing all in theatres. Such a people ,he has as followers, merely u can adress them as. I have a cousin,who would die for Pawan Kalyan .There ,took place an incident,where me and him were boozing slowly all the night ,something pulled out the topic of Pawan Kalyan.I asked him,what would he do if he ever bags a chance of meeting this stalwart? I expected some different kind of reply, but this fella, with a whole heart came with such a mind boggling answer.Here it goes like this,”I don’t want a photograph to be pulled out while I shake hands with him nor I even want to spend a whole day with him.Those were far from reach,even in my dreams.I just want to see him whole heartedly for atleast 2 minutes atleast from a distance of some two metres. That’s more than sufficient for me.” I guess these two incidents are far enough to understand the craze,mania,whatever you call it as,that Pawan Kalyan has.

He has that aura.One call it as attitude,one call it as something.The positive vibes you receive in his presence,I call it as Aura.He is just beyond his cinemas.And now,everybody’s eyes are focused on his latest release(yet to hit the screens),KOMARAM PULI., in which he plays a cop.I,never min,whether its going to be a masterpiece or a disaster.His fans never mind his films’ commercial success.I just want to watch the flick on the very first day amidst cheers and paper pieces falling all along.

HAIL POWER STAR!

Rajneeti

i want to be unaware with the fact that whether what i say turns out be pointless to lousy bastards and i wish it should be that way.Watched Rajneethi some 2 days ago and i liked it,no matter how it appears to other self suggesting people who convince themselves that no! this is not the movie u are supposed to watch! and think that i flunked some 3 hours of my valuable time sparing for this cinema otherwise sit in a cafe and blow out some sticks and talk!

National sport

Sad to say this,its not hockey any more.Advent of cricket into this country took over hockey's position.Only thing left is ,our government announcing it.My hands felt the touch of a ball today ,after ages and here i am,settled down to write about 'my-used-to-be' passion.I used to breathe cricket till my 10th standard and hoped I would get into the national side,some day or the other.But, as the reality picture unfolded slowly and carefully to my little set of eyes then,I started digesting the fact that I am not born for that.Simply,thats not my purpose on this planet.

Go and ask the children playing under the cool shadows of trees in a suburb place,"Who are you?" Surprisingly ,u wont get any answers like I am a Hindu, Muslim,whatever. They feel that Cricket is the binding force that holds them tight against the shoulder of their good fellas. Thats a beautiful shot unwrapped to see children holding bats and wickets of their heights and fixing them in green fields and get ready to give their shot to the sport.Its always enviable.I bet,everybody wants to get back to their childhood and hold those heavy english willow bats again with pride in their hands.I personally,my self spent endless hours with my friends then,discussing the known statistics at that time,ranging from Kumble's 10 wicket haul to the type of wood with which Kookaburra bats were made. If it was a match against Pakistan that day,unofficial holiday would be declared to schools and offices.

The camera shot of Brian Lara coming onto the field that day against England to finish his remained task of reaching 400 mark was, brilliance revealed! I always admired left handers,because,i m the one too.It didnt take him long time to surpass the disturbed record of his unbeaten 375 by Mathew Hayden(380) and that time,he made his 400.Point to be noted here is even Mathew Hayden is a left handed guy.I always possessed this great respect to left handed legends.Its not that I dont respect Little master or Gavaskar or something.Of course,I worship Sachin Tendulkar.Thats a different point,altogether.One of my close people said,"What people would be thinking about,In India,even after 50 years from now?,Its Gandhi,constitution and Cricket." Absolutely. Same is the case with Pakistan also.In fact,they think about Jinnah in place of Gandhi.

I still remember the days when I used to set up the alarm at early in the mornings ,somewhere around 3.30 am ,to watch the scene of Sachin and Sehwag coming down the pavilion of Lords to bat in the Natwest series.And Tests were absolutely brilliant.I never felt it difficult to watch Rahul Dravid to stop the collapse of Indian batting order with single hand.Hats off to his never ending patience,to stay there,right in the middle of the ground,for entire 3 days,pouring sweat, like water from his helmet with undisturbed persistence to leave off the balls.He is well known for respecting good deliveries and punishing bad ones.I have never seen such a player ,practicing 14 hours a day at regular times even and never feel bored or tired and gets up early in the morning around 4.00 am and drives back to the ground with his pads on,way before than youngsters.His dedication is unquestionable.

I still admire the beauty of this sport in England,especially.People get up from their seats and clap for singles and two's taken and thats why England never fell short of classic players for its team.Check out Paul Collingwood and Kevin Peitersen now,in contemporary times.Kevin has been awarded the most stylish cricketer of the years 08',09' successively.Its feast for his fans to watch out his sexy leg glances and lofty off drives.

And no words left to describe the play of God of cricket,Sachin Tendulkar.And here,I am,exhausted in describing the beauty of the sport. Signing off note is "Kudos to all those cricketers,who made this sport unforgettable and Thank you England,for inventing such a great sport that changed the lives of 1 billion people in sub continent."

It was hated back then ,because it caused wars.Yet,It is loved,always!

Prasthaanam

Probably,this is the first time ever I am writing about a cinema,rather can be called , a review.One can just wonder what a made a guy, who just sits in a corner of a table in a cafe and calmly lend his ears to his close people continuously wondering how Scorsese made cinema,could write a review on a cinema?? "Prasthaanam" stimulated my desire to write.I was all goosebumps when Sai Kumar's voice went along in the background in the starting of the flick,saying,"Come,look beyond the epics,u would only see a man's desire to capture power that started all wars."Sai Kumar was the sole reason which drew my to the theatre but as the scene started unfolding,every character was justified and Mr.Katta was pretty clever in choosing actors for those characters.But,according to me,Kota Srinivas Rao might have suited well in place of Jeeva,but Jeeva's performance is decent,considerably.I just laughed at people who quoted that this movie has got Sai Kumar's life time performance,but I am wrong! Deva Katta has been successful in extracting the brillinace out of Sai Kumar.His voice added the grace to this cinema.

Coming to Sarvanand,even his performance has been decent.I believe,nobody could have done justice to that role better than this lad.His composure 's been asset!The new comer ,his name,i dont know has good emotions in him and he efficiently protrayed them on screen.

Country's contemporary politics laid this cinema.It succeeded in showing how money changes power and power changes people and it urges people to commit any crime.One of my mates said,Leader's script could have been written by any school going child,I agree,but not this cinema's.

I agree ,there was a unnecessary,irrelevant romantic track in this movie,but that is what,that makes front seat crowd to come to theatres.After all,to make the boat of the producer float,a director should keep an eye of his on box office also.I agree that presence of this irrelevant tracks made the cinema a bit less intense and a bit less jovial but one have to agree that this a daring attempt made by any telugu director to show cast hierarchy in contemporary Indian politics.I liked it ,after all.

My God's sample piece!

this is a post written by my God,ages ago.As my usual time killing technique,I was going thru Ashok's blog and found this interesting again in my life for some 78th time and posting this in my blog! here it goes!

this is for ziah. aishwarya gamely responded to her tag while i stayed true to the glacial pace i pride myself with. its almost illegal, how i treat matters of online consequence. something to do with the inherent comfort of impersonality that ether can afford you. and about the theme. seven possibly shocking and necessarily weird facts about myself. before i turn my psyche inside out and lead my dark secrets to light, i have to agree with ziah. its difficult to tag what really is a personal idiosyncrasy as weird if you haven't tried to lose it. the fact that they exist is proof that you have made peace with them. they go as far as shaping into your own personal forms of protest. against the ultimate in conformity. that of regular humanity, all of which, they say, can be mapped onto a single genome.they are probably more than quirky personal traits. more than old habits dying hard. they are what set you apart.the sheep and the scarecrow. the shock of invisible red hair your personality is determined to preserve. the self-proclaimed war cry against ubiquity. they may be weird but not unfamiliar. strange but not inexplicable. hilarious but notwithout purpose. they are after all, carefully ignored unusual habits that people credit us with. and the other way around. why is this turning into a declaration of independence? let me stop my opening statement. and take the plunge.

weird fact 1 : an unhealthy obsession with the 60's

there is somethin unresolvable and gripping about the 60's. the irresistible glamor and an unhealthy nihilism aside, the fact that an entire generation of able young people swayed to the clarinet of individual expression and unregulated freedom is fascinating. i have always rued the absence of a cause in my life. an all-consuming activism, not necessarily political or socially relevant. a belief system governed by my own laws. about nature and human response. steadfastly held, in spite of overpowering opposition and indoctrination. challenging existing authority with a glint of mischief. irreverence with a hint of the devil. the 60's had them all. young people taking to the streets, hollering about their own individual take on justice or the lack of it. braving a knee-jerk clampdown and pamphleteering for what they thought was the sake of humanity. they took themselves seriously, though i guess they were far too right for their own good. students, just like you and me, standing up to an enraged political administration. seeking accountability.demanding change. fighting for peace. i don't imagine there would be a time, quite like the 60's. or would there ever be a phase in human history, when makin love was an expression of solidarity and handing out a flower was an advertisement for hope. they could have been flawed. maybe humanity would never survive so much hope. and of course, they simpered down to a slow death. but i really wish i was there. i really wish i handed out a flower and smiled.

weird fact 2 : an equally unhealthy obsession with the tragic

all my earlier posts stand irrefutable testimony to this. i can be irredeemably sad. almost nothing in the world can save me from the gloom i can nurture. i can be depressingly cynical, infectiously sullen and inhumanly distraught. almost everything in this world can make me sad. and i can spend a million hours just mulling over why i mull so much. whats weird about this,is that i need an absolutely flawless environment to be able to function normally. and in keeping with the truth of life, nothin is flawless. and i realize this stupid grudge about the stupid rule, by shuttin down. by withdrawing into the safety of voluntary inaction. self-pity comes easy when you start believing you were the victim. equally easy is being a pessimist, when nothin ever worked for you. i guess am just a dissatisfied glummy bear. the trouble is, this obsession with the tragic seems to bleed into other worldly functions. if i ever write, i only write about how sad life is. i watch a movie that ends with the usual happily ever after and construct an alternate ending where everybody gets killed as an asteroid smashes into our planet. this is not sick masochism. i am far too ordinary for that. its just me not being able to come to terms with the existence of so much happiness in the face of the obvious and inescapable evil that abounds underneath every human. can anybody ever claim to be entirely free of malice? can there ever be a utopia, which can prove the existense of a higher power beyond any reasonable doubt? i don't know. and it makes me sad that i don't.

weird fact 3 : i cannot communicate over a telephone.

if you can get hold of my mobile phone and check on my contact list, it'd prolly throw up as many names as there are people who can spell "bourgeois" right in the first go .i only use my fone to talk to aishwarya and to say yes to all that my mom asks me to do. somehow it feels too unreal for comfort. trying to picture a face behind the voice, animating the voice with an imaginary body language, infusing it with the inflections you are not quite sure you can make out. it just is too much work. the few times that i do receive a call from somebody i am not exactly dying to talk to, its a pain shuffling on my feet, trying to not get bored and coming up with some way i can end the conversation without really spellin out how big an asshole i am. i dread unknown numbers so much that i skirt away from answering any number i do not have committed to memory. an upshot. i cannot quite understand the fuss that surrounds the regular foray of mobile fones and the people ready to bow down to some contraption that lets them blog and shoot and flaunt and touch and play and gyrate. in addition to the incredible option of actually calling a human being. its not really weird considering the premium i think personal interaction should be accorded with. almost everybody i know have given up on tryin to reach me through a telephone. which most of the time is my own loss. but i don't think i can give up on the habit. here's to silence, solitude and sounds with a face attached to them.

weird fact 4 : i cannot bring myself to say cool.

this has to be the weirdest of them all. i cannot bring myself to say cool. this has to be the weirdest of them all.


weird fact 5 : keep trying to make an OST of my life

i've been a militant fanatic of indie alternative punk since i discovered box car racer's "there is", half a decade ago. the reason why it was so liberating was the fact that it seemed to be strumming out lyrics, that wouldn't have been outta place applied to what was goin on with me, back then. they fit in, right down to the last rough edge. then came jimmy eat world with "night drive" which put me to sleep as i was grapplin with a disappointing rite of passage. sum 41's "pain for pleasure" articulated my energetic confusion while "pieces" lent background to the sadness that was threatening to seep in. i flirted with iron maiden and metallica for a while, but they sounded far too archaic and irrelevant to be my spokespeople. drifted back to cold play, and they gifted me with "fix you". there couldn't have been a better representation for the promise of a second chance. box car racer returned, this time in the garb of blink 182 and with "i am lost without you", they ensured i din lose faith in the healing powers of familiar music played repeatedly. and then, there came snow patrol with "run". that song was divine intervention. it was just what god would have sung if he was signed up by a record label. it was everything. i am not exaggerating. you just have to listen to it, to know what i am talking about. i keep adding tracks to my ost. keep lookin for newer music that i imagine would fit into my ost with the downside being outright rejection of every other blameless track. for the simple reason, that its not singing for me.

and for reasons best undisclosed, aerosmith and "I don't want to miss a thing" occupy a very special spot in that ost.


weird fact 6 : i have a mortal fear of snakes.

the darned creatures weren't supposed to survive so long. never had a close call with one of them, but i routinely recall my best brandon lee education each time i step on a hose. i've never been able to overcome the stupid fear. she thinks they are graceful. that they help in eco-balance and make for exciting nat geo programming. i am not sure if a balanced ecology would do me any good after one of them gets me in the backside, someday.

weird fact 7 : i am horribly susceptible to vice.

give me a hint of the satan and the opportunity to get addicted and i'd take to almost anything. no questions asked. no will power exercised. and no remorse exhibited. there is something irresistibly sinister about the seduction of the dark side. something about practicing the prohibited. guess its a remnant of my juvenile years, but i still revel in repelling authority. i realize most of the times, that i am treading that thin line between making a statement and losing your footing. but if you were dying to know to know how free fall felt, would you not want to jump? among my latest acquisitions is a wanton liking for playing cards. i play low stakes, low brow and low class. but its begun to make sense why gambling is so frigging addictive. the sheer anticipation of making easy money, coupled with the usual ecstasy of winning in a group added to the dignity of getting away with something illegal. trust me on this, you'd not stop at embracing the devil. you may just go ahead and offer him your neck.

and that, would be it. the seven weird traits that made the grade. i should definitely be concerned about some of them. especially about the new found love for wagerin small change for gambling. but the fact that you can't help but succumb, that you'd rather live with them than try to address them, only adds that faintest hint of mystique to your personal weirdness.

Brother!

Yet,another debatable post from my side ,i guess!I've been suffering from a disease,the name of it,i don't know,but that makes one strive for freedom,move out of the box,go unconventional ,feel restless and hate geeks! Any revolution starts from Home.It's true with me too! I am very sad that i, from my childhood ,got myself fitted into a very conventional,systematic,"hard work" believing family..!! As the due course of time,I started accepting the hard fact and eventually I got used to it! And now,I am very comfortable with it! I got used to scoldings of my dad who expects me back at home immediately after the last prayers of Islam go off daily.Somewhere around 6.30 in the evening.I comfortably overlook my mom's disgusting looks if I stay online after 11 in the night! But ,I,here,proudly admit one thing.Though,they say much about how am I supposed to be,I never went against my tide.I always did what I want.lol...though...reluctantly for them! I listened to metal though they shot me dirty looks.I watched "Requiem for a dream" though they feared that I m turning out into a narcotics guy! I never cared them really ,as far as I knew what am I doing.Everything went pretty well! And here comes,bang on my head!

Sadly,I have a younger brother! I wish I had an elder one! Though,I wasted the first 16 years of my life,living like a geek,I realized it thereafter and started living on my terms.Few of my glorious bastards helped me shaping up an amazing life(Very grateful to you,Dirty harry,I owe it all to you).Yeah,it fetched some disastrous results ,even though I am pretty happy with the way things are turning up now and I am very sure that I am going to be the most happiest guy,some 10 years down the lane(lol...if I will be alive).

But here comes my brother.I always dreamt of moulding him up into a guy ,hippiedom personified.I wanted him to be get loaded with confidence .He is not,now! I wanted him to listen to more serious music but he's treating music a just a fact of joke and laughter.I expected him to be moving with people ,who has got some fire in them to make something and to prove something wrong! He never did and he's not,even now! He follows Shiv Khera and I ask him to worship RGV! There's a fact,to all my dear bloody bastards.I copied this from somewhere,i remember vaguely,from one of my fellow bloggers! But a briiliant line.Here it goes like this.lIFE,MY BROTHER,IS NOT SHAPED WITH PARENTS,NOR WITH BOOKS NOR WITH FRIENDS.lIFE'S ONLY SHAPED WITH CINEMA.

my dear brother,I never wanted to rub off my opinions or ideals on you.But I always wanted you to learn from me,here again,I am not boasting,because I learnt my life from David Fincher,Guy ritchie,Ashok ,Sandeep,Kaushik and many more.

If not,you are going to lose yourself.Take care,my fella!

What, one is supposed to do in early twenties?

Rather a tougher question this time.Put it to highly workaholic and over ambitious parent draining out himself to help his child to turn out into a so called "capable scholar" to make it into IITs.He comes out with, in fact , next to impossible answers like "One,who is in his early twenties, has to go through scientific magazines rather than those fucking star filled "funtertainment" pages in daily newspapers".Just go to a student who made it into one of prestigious technical colleges and bring out the topic of the above mentioned reply of an average parent.He laughs his ass off.WTF..!! believe ,he carries off that.He says out so easily that you will be deceived and you tend to fall in a misconception that ,Is the answer given by the young fella', so obvious and certain? Ahem! may be not!

What went wrong with the 70's Indian youth is ,they lacked cult.They either lacked education or they lacked cult.I am not here to declare that antonym of education is 'cult'.They cant stay together,thats it.Did u ever find any man of our fathers' age listening to Carnatic music and smoking "Classic Milds" in his balcony? Here,again,I am not saying that smoking is a 'cult'ured thing.Go,roam on roads and you will be able to find handful of hippies ,earphones plugged in their ears,Ozzy going crazy in the background,suddenly,they stop it by seeing a friend,they'll start discussing about the robotics and Ferrari,but by holding a cigarette in one hand and road side made coffee in the other.There, u find cult.There, you find fire.There you find restlessness in their eyes to make a dent on this universe.

I am here,jobless and running out of at least one single my "own" penny( not my father's) and I am ready to bet for even million bucks to show me a guy going through sci- fi magazines early in the morning.They booze.They let out their heart.They laugh their asses off.They give their everything for the ones they love and yes,they do watch cricket now even if they have their final examination tomorrow.That is how they'll be and that is how they are supposed to be.Try to disturb that and the entire process of life's settlement goes shattered down.

Few things parents expect their children to do :-

a) they want their children to be home within half an hour after finishing their class

b) they want their children to be at home and help out them in handling different issues

c) they wan their children to hit their sacks probably by 10 in the night and get up early in the morning and get ready for a jog.

d) a bit workaholic parents want their children to master programming skills during their vacations.

e)Say no to parties and yes to family dinners.

What is going to come next is very important because that is what they want it the way and that is what its gonna happen finally :-

1) they say that there's a class on sunday too,a reason to get out of home and meet friends.If that is the case,forget about coming home immediately after class.

2)man,WTF are we supposed to do at home if there's nothing happening over there?

3)Ask parents to come out with them in nights and ask them to check out how beautiful and amazing Hyderabad looks at night?!

4) what if some lad is interested in doing a management project but he's forced to join ADVANCED CORE JAVA class?? We'll do what we like and pour all we have into it!

5)One can find no fifty year old man going out to a late night party.ANd yes,There's loads of time left to have lunches and dinners with so called "families".

I am pretty happy that I could at least provide a bit information whats one is supposed to do in his early twenties.

P.S :- this post is only for those guys are cheating themselves by acting according to their guardian's wish and will and losing their lives.Bastards,u have only one chance to live.Live your lives.Not others'.

and for the rest of people who are in their most productive and happy period period of their lives,I NEED NOT TELL YOU GUYS..!!

Probably the better 'me' ?!

This one,rather coming out of me with no anticipations from my contrary side as expected.Things, used to be on my "wish list" were materialistic like pods,wee hour coffees,night outs,booze and all.Everything is bound to change in due course of time and by the time,i settle down in my cozy sofa to jot down this on a piece of paper without thinking ,what brand pen am I using to jot this down.I changed.Probably,turned into a man,whateva you call it as.I used to wonder about my dad,how this man possess no interest towards flashy colours,branded ties and staying in luxury suites? I probably thought that he has got no taste of life.The art of living,you call it as.

The idea of an eternal feeling of looking at this mechanical world with a glimpse of art struck me when I was going through The Hindu,today when Osho's section of Art of living.As my included constraint of my new 'me',I patiently had gone through the entire column and by the time I finished it,the only person who remained in my head is my dad,again! Exactly! Since then,I gave it shot of thinking and here I am,settled down with a greater height of determination to write of what I have been thinking ,lately.

Its still a hard fact for me to digest.Past couple of months brought drastic changes in me.Of course,desirable.Just two whole months.The 'me',I expected to appear somewhere around 5-10 years down the lane,started to visit my life pretty often! Its not that I am getting older,I am getting elder.I always used to think about the incidents(rather,call them accidents!) happened and used to introspect myself,What I could have done if it happens once again? Or else,if its destined to happen now,How would I react to the situation?? I always to find a better answer for that and luckily,I used to appreciate myself for believing in the concept of growing daily.In fact,I have grown daily!

One thing is clear for me now.I stopped growing.And I am not at all unhappy for that.The things which happened to me in the past two months made me a man,at least I hopefully guess.

I started looking at people in a broader sense.I am real need of conversations and I am fortunate enough.I am being pretty successful in finding conversations(Thanks to Kaushik,Sandy and Sindhu) .

Conversations :

@ Kaushik,Sandy :: Kudos to both the brilliant bastards..!!They made forget time even while sitting under hot sun for 3 hours having hot tea(ufff..).For the first time in my life,I found my self gone dumb,restricting myself to a corner and listening to two bastards for 3 hours ,without uttering even a single word. Thats their sheer brilliance!!

@ Sindu :: after being like a so called "friend" on FB for somewhere around 10 months,I started to find myself getting into a conversation with her,lately.She's got an other side,probably seldom know it!(Shikhara,you are damn right baby,She's got some unexposed brilliance in her)and for this , Kudos to my guitar..!!

Thats it! conversations,people,chai aur Zindagi.Aur kya hona? I lost my interest towards childhood fantasies and no wonder,If i turn out into an "Urban Buddha" (thanks Adi,for coining that) going places in search of Zindagi..!!

Thats it for now! Khuda hafeez!

With regards

'probably the better "me" '

Semi urban punk

Notice this guy.He's with the lean look of Depp over his sleeves.Walking as reckless as no one can.Staring at the distant skies.He smokes classic milds even though he is disliking it of late,because that stick bears 'classic' in its name.He's the answer to many of my unresolved questions.The unquestionable confidence and fire,he possess in his belly,makes him stand as a 'class apart'.Yes.I mean it.He's a 'class apart'.He's my new preacher.Of course,I know ,thats a very big word 'preacher'.It suits him.He's cleverly disguised as an 'as usual irresponsible care free young lad'by his looks and gait.No.He is not.He possess very rarely visible amount of self esteem and confidence.This is all one side oh him.Other comes down.

He dopes and listens to heavy metal heavily.He knows what makes a waiter in a coffee bar to salute you but he always like to have a hand made coffee.He traveled a lot in aeroplanes but loves to roam on his 100 cc two wheeler.A cup of chai,a nicotine stick and tonnes of urge to make a dent on this planet.Yes,one can describe him in that single phrase.

He likes 'pulp fiction'.He adores 'Clint Eastwood'.He listens to 'Black sabbath'.He hates show.Its always fun time with him.His arrogance reminds me of 'Paul Newman' in 'Cool hand luke',who is no more between us,if alive,would have felt proud to see a likely arrogant cinema buff like him.That arrogance has a spark.As if he knows something thats gonna happen.Still....arrogant.Inexplicable replica of 'Cool hand luke'.Thats him. Semi urban punk.

Kaushik,his name is.

jaago re..!!

this is a story aka question put by a person to a hopeless fella wasting his time by roaming free on roads.It shook me.Here it goes...

person :-hey,let me put you a question.Can I?

fella :- Why not mate? Go ahead.(Waiter,1 more vodka..)

person:- do know something about hunting system of tigers?

fella :- (taking a sip) Yeah,I do. Why for?

person:- if there's a herd of deers standing at a distance from a tiger,how will that tiger decide to hunt a particular deer?

fella :- Ahem! I give up.You say.

person :-It goes after the deer which moves its tail by seeing the tiger!

fella :- Is it? so what then?

person :- I am coming there, mate.

fella :- okay.Wanna have another drink?

person:- yup!sure.So listen,Why does the deer run? I mean,what for?

fella :- Quite obvious answer.It runs to escape from that tiger.I mean,it runs for its "ITS LIFE"

person :-And why does the tiger run after the deer?

fella :- Come on.DO you think am I so dumb? It runs for its food.

person:- food means?

fella :-this is too much ,mate.It runs after that deer to eat it. To survive.

person:- good that you are coming to the point.

fella :- what do you mean?

person :-Be precise,dude.To survive means?

fella :-Shit man! U are so dumb! The tiger runs for "ITS LIFE" man!

Person :- Exactly.So ,the deer runs for "ITS LIFE" and the tiger also runs for "ITS LIFE" eh?

fella :- thank God,you understood,finally!

person :- Its not me ,its you who have to understand.

fella :-sorry?! I didnt get you!

Person :- the deer runs for "its life" and the tiger too runs for "its life". WHAT ARE YOU RUNNING FOR?

fella :- (speechless..!!)

JAAGO RE....!!

In unconventionality,I trust..!!

I am sad that unfortunately,I took birth in the birthplace of all civilizations,they say.This is gonna hurt patriotic hearts.I don't mind.Its all because of the fledgling system existing in this place.I always dreamt of leading my life in an urban outfit.Its a bliss,urban outfit.Had a 'wow'ful conversation this morning(27-01-2010) with Aditya.Exactly,I am vulnerable,disarmed,helpless and desperate.

Disarmed,in the sense,there is no liberty for me to think or act out of the box.Helpless,failing to behave unconventionally.Desperate,lol....to behave unconventionally.There is no place for conventional intellectuals in the history.Go through the list of top 5 CEOs of 2009.All of them are dropouts (by choice,in fact).I dont say coincidentially.Intentionally,I say.

It takes a spark,a single spark to get up and act out of the box.The spark,that exists for a moment.Finest,toughest moment in one's life.Get through it and you are done then.Nothing bothers you.

Literally,this is not at all a post in my blog,its just the conversation ,we had this morning.Using it again,Ultimate extremist.Worldly things never cause troubles to extremists.Some saying says this, "If you suffer earlier,you suffer more".Perfect.

"leave what you want,it will come back for sure".Beautiful

This has always been my dream to write something with a pint of tea,a cigarette stub in my left hand and an amazing friend.Its fulfilled.No more to say.Ready to take off this moment!

Worthy mates

Today has been so kind to me.It started off with a beautiful conversation over an enviable early morning coffee .Many things rolled down in that conversation ranging from borne genius to Guilt.That was one of the best conversations I ever had in my life.I just stayed listening to the other person ,playing with a tooth pick in my mouth ,its been 42 hours since I slept and I ,even now dont feel a pinch of tiredness.That conversation provided me some respite from many things that have been bothering me lately,that person possesses adorable oratory skills for which u admire that person. Its Shikhara.

The moment I started back home after meeting Shikhara,my best pal,Raghav called me and there I am,in Lemon tea.This fella,started fixing nicotine these days and by the time I reached there,he already crushed three stubs of Classic Milds under his feet and ready to crush another one.I took my share of some smoke on an early winter morning and yet ,another conversation started! Its all about rapport with Raghav or what you call it as frequency of conversation! Make your effort to land him in an interesting conversation and leave everything else to him afterwards.He carries off the whole conversation with such an ease and grace.And one more thing thats worthy mentioning about this cute boy is his ease in shifting gears and adjusting comfort levels in accordance to the other person!Thats the best part about this 6 foot havoc!

While I am in the middle of conversation with Raghav,there entered my other two worthy mates.Anirudh and Aditya.If you gotta any big deal of hands-on approach ,I suggest you to contact Anirudh,he makes it easy for you.Such a tackling and managing capabilities,he's got.Ani is a big time manipulater.Rofl..he might be planning 2 kick my ass off while reading this post.Saley,this one's positive.Dont think otherwise and dont draw plans to take me off guard!

Aditya.My bawa.He's got certain level of wavelength which all people cannot withstand or at least gain some momentum to catch up his speed of thinking.Once if you are successful in doing so,I bet million bucks,you will enjoy his presence and his conversations more than anything else.The rapport between Ani and Adi is really enviable.Love you loads bawa!

There are many fun times when we(ani,adi,me and raghav) used to hang over each others' shoulders ,smoking and having gallons of hot lemon tea ,enjoying each others' presence a lot and I hope we are gonna have those fun times in the coming times also..!!

Air force

Folks...dont think that i gonna join in Indian Airforce or something.That states my state of mind and body these days.My bike is my life.I am persuaded by myself to write this post.The foremost reason because of why I am staying on roads is poor terms with my family.I dont even have nodding terms now.They ,at last,gave up and left me on my own.I am both happy and sad.Happy that ,they left me atlast.Sad that ,after so much of struggle.Now I dont have to worry to think about what my mom thinks if I go out somewhere to have a cup of coffee or some smoke, late nights.

As Ani says....chai,cigarette and zindagi.Bas.Thats more than enough.I find it more comfortable to lay back in a cafe ,killing time seeing the ray of hopes and dreams of people who come there 2 blow out some cigarettes and inhale some more dreams.I would seriously consider the option of setting down as a wanderer and writer.

it was on last saturday when I bunked my college with one of my cousin who is down to India from Newzealand.That was the day when I actually lived after many days Sandy left our habitat.Weather was really awesome on that day and having a cup of Irani chai with a beautiful conversation.Wow...!!

I stopped reading,I gave up writing,the worst part,it is.Just imagine in which state I am,that its been ages since i glanced at newspaper.I hardly know now ,whats going on round the borders.All I am doing is taking Facebook quizzes and counting the number of scraps in orkut.Sandy was right.I am turning into a lousy bastard.2009 had been one of toughest years for me and I bet,even 2010 gonna be.

Even at this point of time,I am sticking my ass 2 my chair in front of desktop to post this one!

Even money.I am sorry to say this,it was me who said "freedom" stands first ahead of money and pardon,I am admitting this thing. I am severely running out of money these days.I used to proudly anounce the fact(used to be, not now) that ' I write for my self' and 'I think of no one while I am writing'. But each and every second,while I am writing this,two persons are popping in my brain.Sandy and Aditya.Sorry mates,I took both of you as my inspirations in living without getting influenced by flow of cash,but at this point of time,ALL I NEED IS MONEY.Ask me and I will let u know how bad, it appeals to you if some junior of you buys you a cigarette knowing your situation,silently,you accept it!

I wanna get drunk up to the core(lekin paise kaun detha hain? tera baap?) and actually re-live my self for the past one and half year.Because,I couldnt,in the way I thought I have to.I thought of reading a lot,writing a lot.I thought of making necessary adjustments to live my life ,the way Ashok lives his.Folks....Ashok cant be copied ,he can be just imitated!

I am waiting eagerly to finish off this 4 year crap and to move on,at least to some other place of my own,where I can go home without coining a mint into my throat to supress the odour of classic milds!