I'm Done With the Sidewalk

"Hi there. Are you fully awake yet? I'm just opening my eyes, and my head is still slightly hazy. Ah well. Utterly confused would be more correct I suppose. I'm surprised that I'm not too sure where I am, or who this girl sleeping next to me is. And now, why am I completely at ease to pull her close to me and scribble on her body "I love you"...

I'm not sure I am fully awake as I write this. Or completely sane. I saw this in my dream. Words. These words. No people. Just a voice. A guy's voice. A voice that is vaguely familiar, but irritatingly not placeable- a voice that you'd expect from some movie's invisible narrator.
No visuals in this...only a pen writing this, and a voice.

Who was that voice? And why did it (he?) want to tell me all these? Dreams. They have always disturbed me more than they really should. Not nightmares, just dreams, weird ones. It's almost like someone is trying to tell me something, that I only half want to hear. Most of the time, I still remember them...all everything as I wake up, and then as the day moves on, finer details slipping away like sand through your fingers.

I'm no story writer, but there are certain things that make me wonder if I really am living in a movie. And if that is what these dreams are trying to tell me.
Usually I move on...but this one somehow compelled me to put it down in black and white. To actually jump off the bed, even after just 3 and a half hours of broken sleep, pull out my laptop and write it all down. Even now, I feel as though, someone else, and not me is really writing. I mean, I'm...but someone else is telling me to. Some voice. Vaguely familiar, irritatingly not placeable. The kind of voice that you'd expect to hear from a movie's invisible narrator.

Maybe its lack of sleep. Or maybe its the lack of sanity. It's happening. And surprisingly, I'm not freaking out. I'm surprised, amused. Not scared. Ah well.

After 21 (nearly 22? 21 years and 6 months anyway) of lazy existence, I'm learning a few things about myself. There are times, when I see with amazing clarity. Then it goes away to be replaced by the dirty fog again. But those few moments, those few glorious moments, when I see me, like I should be, like I want to be, are exhilarating. Maybe I'll get there...yet.

The Unholy Crusades

Scene one: A party. Huge, open air, bar, drinks, music and dance. Soft yellow glow of lights. People, loads of people. Drunk, dancing, high- on everything from the music to the liquor, to dope. People having a good time in a paradise, born out of utopia.

A few minutes later. The bartender is lying inert, with blood oozing out of a hole in his head. A building, blazing like a gigantic bon fire. Lights, but this time the blaze of fire. Music, dancing, liquor. People, high- on music, to liquor, to dope, to blood. People having a good time- this time swinging half head people by their toes like a pendulum. Dragging them on the ground, like rag dolls. All in the name of fighting to free a country from slavery. A paradise, born out of utopia.

The human race has this one amazing ability. To get used to almost anything. Pain, misery, death, bullets, torture. We can distance ourselves from anything. There are people who can drink, dance, and have a good time in a country that is raging with civil war. You go out to buy vegetables and you cannot be sure if you will come back safe, or a stray bullet is gonna head your way. There are no citizens there- only soldiers, rebels, the refugees. If you are not any of these, you are dead.

I thought I wouldn’t write about Blood Diamond. When I first read about it in Id’s blog, I was vaguely interested- maybe I should catch this movie. Then Prick decided he needs to take a stance on, again, I was hardly surprised, but didn’t feel the need to take a stance still. Then I saw the movie. By I knew what to expect, but yeah it still makes you sit up and take notice. But there is a whole lot of difference between sitting up and taking notice as opposed to standing up and taking action. There is only so much that a movie can do after all. Maybe it will make a few half virtuous people to stop fancying that stupid piece of rock(ah well, old rant really, I always felt that diamonds, after male superiority, are singularly the most over rated thing in this world).

But as I sat in the theatre watching that movie…none of Id’s or Prick’s words came to my head. The only thing that kept playing is, why are they killing all these people? Most, almost all, were killed just for the fun of watching them die- women, children, old people, young me. Entire villages wiped out, torched in a mad frenzy. A bunch of blindfolded kids, who are made to shoot down a gagged man. Then to ease the pain of the horrific realisation of what they did, they shoot some more. Till they reach a point where they don’t need that blindfold anymore. Till they can look into the eyes of their own fathers and point a gun at him without flinching. These people, rebels, soldiers, they were not fighting a war, they were not making a point, unless the point was “We stop at nothing, we are dead inside”

But in the middle of this madness, there still are people, who run around fighting to get their story out. There are people who dream of making their son a doctor. There are people, who have known it all, seen it all, and who dream of getting out of it all one day. And who’d give anything for that. And try and desperately rationalise that with, “It’s not war, it’s just business”. Then some, who don’t feel the need to rationalise. They sell the guns to the rebels, along with cds of Baywatch. Diamonds for guns. The “service providers”. “The world wants what we have to offer, we just get it to them”. The big guys in big cities, who walk around in crisp suites and fancy cars. The ones who buy these diamonds and store them away in deep coffers, knowing it stinks of blood. Then the puppet masters, who convince little kids that this is a crusade, and that in this world that does not give them the respect they deserve, but you need to take that. And how do you do that? With guns.

As long as guns and money are a part of somebody’s business, as long as terrorism is an industry, it will survive. As long as there are takers, there will be service providers. This is no holy war. There never has been such a thing. Its just simple rules of the market. Demand and supply. The “A” of TIA can be easily replaced with Is and Ps and Vs. Its all the same.

God of Small Things

Happiness! Such a weird feeling naah? All the time we keep running after it thinking it is this elusive thing, and then one fine day it just jumps at you out of nowhere, and you are left thinking, “Wow! That was simple!”

One hell of a bad day I was having. Nothing disastrous, just one of those days in college when everything goes wrong and nothing goes right, your friends don’t understand you, your lecturers are mean, and the human race in general is not just mind bogglingly stupid, but is also on an out and out war with you. You know the kinds when the world and everything beyond just pulls you down.

At the end of a naggingly irritating day at college, I went in the evening to meet another friend. Ranted my heart out to him. Didn’t really help though. When I left, my mood was really really unhappy. I was walking back home, and I had to cross through Forum. Now malls are one place that I always was a fascinating place for people watching (NOT the same as bird watching). You meet all kinds- the rich, the not-so-rich, and the most interesting, wanna-look-rich. But that day I really couldn’t care less. I was too bothered my own set of borrowed problems to be worried about all that just then.

Then I saw this dude. Cute li’l chap, must be all of three years old perhaps. Dude had this tetrapack of Frooti in his hand, and was struggling with all this two feet nothing might, to push a stubborn straw into the packet, and finding that it ain’t the as easy as he thought it should be. His mom offered to help, but our man, staunchly refused. After all what’s a puny li’l straw to question his super baby might?

Then he looked up to see me looking at him with extremely amused eyes. I couldn’t help smiling at that tiny bundle of cute resolve. In return, the dude gave me the most spontaneous, and genuinely happy smile that I ever saw. That moment, that smile, made me feel so innocently happy, something that no amount of talking, counselling, philosophising, and ranting could manage. Looking at that kid, his happy smile, made my heart feel so light, all those things that were nagging me seemed so not worth it. Sure if he were some another two decades older, he’d have probably thought I was linemaorfying him. But right now, for him life was really simple. He saw someone smile at him, and he smiled back. He had his worries to handle (he was in the middle of the battle with the straw, remember?), but he had his fundas clear. Smile for a smile. As simple as that.

Sometimes I think, as we are born with the knowledge of pretty much everything that we need- to live to be happy. Then our whole life we spend in unlearning that, and then feeling all lost in the search of answers. Tsu recently said, if you can’t find the answers, its probably because you are not asking the right questions. Makes sense huh?

Happiness. It’s such a weird thing. All our life, we keep running after it, while it is all the while waiting in a mall, fighting a stubborn straw. :)

Someone Please Tell Her She's In Love!

Statutory Warning: Lots of giggleing and Girl Talk ahead. Thou are warned. Proceed at your own Peril

Conversation had over gtalk. Undisclosed time, undisclosed location, and definitely undisclosed her. This is a work of fiction. But then what fiction is afterall a mere shadow of reality. Any resemblence to any person dead is absolutely unintentional. The living, of course is a different matter. All the author wishes to say is conveyed in one Cranberries' song- In Your Head!:P

Her: i have been meanin to talk to u for eons man

Me: eons and all huh

:)

jus read ur mail

certified!u re in love

no two ways about it gurl

Her: i cant be

thats it

i have to get outta it

Me: lady, y working so hard to get outta it before u even fell into it completely

Her: cuz i dont wanna fall in to it

he is not that type

Me: hmmmm

cant believe we re having this conversation

i mean i can believe we are having this conversation, but somehow we BOTH seem to be on the wrong side

Her: ?

why

Me: u re saying things that i said for 3 freakkin years n i'm saying what u said for three freakkin years!!!!

Her: true

i mean we should stop takin each other very seriously

what do u say

Me: when did the world do this flip thingy??no one told me!!!!

Her: he he he

he he he it jus happened

Me: seriously man

now i'm freakking out

Her: y

what's up

Me: do u reckon i changed way too much after u left?

last time u told me that, n i ve been thinking of that ever since

:(

Her: not much

i like u this way

Me: yeah?shit man

this way is whc way???

Her: the lighter side of moontalk

lil optimistic about love

:)

Me: tee hee

ah well

Her: :)

ha har har

why are u blushing man

:)

Me: hey!

who said anything bout blushing???

Her: he he he

i figured

...(means there's stuff that you dont need to know)

*Now begins the real Story*

Her: shit man

he gives so many signs

this guy

Me: hmmm

Her: stufid boys

Me: tee hee

so y dont u ask him

Her: no

Me: that i'll knock the stuffing outta him

:D

Her: that will kinda complicate things

he he he

Me: then u can say u were bluffing

Her: i am not doing it anymore

he he he

he is a very

Me: :D add a li'l insult to injury

:D

Her: so mean!!!

Me: he's a very?

Her: hmm he cannot express himself

what he feels

Me: hmmm

Her: in words

he hesistates

Me: want me to talk to him and giv him some tips

???

i can do that for u

Her:he he he

naa thanks

Her: but then he tries so hard and tells me certain things

Me: UH HUH

Her: this is endearing

:)

very very

Me: wat certain things will that be????

ahem!ahem!AHEM!!!

Her: we were

hey!!!

:)

Me: wat happened to "protect urself" n "he's not my type" and "naaaahhh"

Her: he he he

Me: WOMAN!!!who u kidding??????

Her: he he he

no da

once i asked

him

what if u like someon

he said he wont tell her and if he keeps quiet it will go away after sometime

so if he is actually talkin to me thins much i am sure he doesnt have tht feeeling for me u know

Me: and u started believing wats guys say bout their feelings since when????

Her: he he he

good pooint

Me: c'mon da!if he likes u, he's hardly gonna answer that question honstly

Her: no we were having a real serious conv that day

Me: i mean, we re talking GUYS and FEELINGS here

Her: he he heh

Me: uh hmmm

Her: ure so cute yea moontalk

Me: oy!!

Her: full emotions coming out

Me: lets not deviate here okay!!!

Her: he he he

na i like the deviation

:)

Me: yeah yeah

from him being "endearing" i ve become "cute"

Her: yeah yeah yea

:)

Me: lowve!lowve!lowve!!!!

thats wat this is all bout

Her: na

Me: u dont use language like that otherwise!!!!

Her: :(

excuse me

wtf

i use cute and all

endearin new word learnt today

i used it in a sentence

Me: i'm sure if u learn flibertigibet today u'd use that in the next given opportunity too

:P

he he he :)

Me: yeah yeah

Her: i could go on talkin about him

man

...

*yep, she's not in love. Absolutely NOT*

*Now, whats the point of having friends if you can't blackmail them bout their love lifes???*

Me: u kw wat, i'm gonna post this on the blog and send him the link

:D

Her: pode

no no

these guys are stupid

i knw

Me: muahahahahahahahaha

Her:no da

thats it

i stop here

i have made a decision

and this is not like any stupid ones

Me: yep

u re afterall a strong independant woman *she is, she really is*

Her: i am gonna give life a chancebut this whole thin g is that

podi

i am seriously saying

Me: okay okay

Her: :) ;-/

Me: seriously say

Her: podi

:)

i don wanto get in to anymore messes where i have NO SAY

what shit yea

sometimes i need to be in the place wher i can take decisions na

i mean

Me: dude da, not gonna happen

all said n done u will feel just what u don wanna feel

Her: podai

tch tch

y

Me: see if tch tch worked, then i'd be falling in love with someone else na

y am i bother bout this sad chap who perhaps more fucked up in the head than i am???

Her: hehehe

cuz ure stupid

Me: yeah okay then!!!

n what ar u????

Her: he he he

Her: my point exactly

:p

Her: grrr

i dunno

il tke it as it comes i guess

Me: go with the flow huh?

Her: hhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

i wanto make noises

that icant type

Me: okay....(ermmmm...wat was I supposed to say to that???!!!)

Her: ye!!!

Me: u kw that sentence came out all weird right

:D

Her: nothing kinky

Her: yeah

!!!

Me: !!!

:D

...

*and thus spake the wise one*

Her:kids!

still kids we all are!

Me: tee hee

yeah

its all about relative maturity for the momment i guess

Her: yeah

yep

i guess for every age we will be young

Me: oh my

there's a thought!

okie

Her: he he he

Me: need to leave now

late already

(And then in typical gal fashion, we proceed to talk for another 20 mins, before I finally got my sorry ass outta the office!

Now, I'm gonna go underground for about 4 years so that the lady in question cannot hunt me down and chop me into tiny li'l pieces of vulture dinner. Ta People! Pray for my soul. And please, tell her she's in love!)

I Massacred 21 Kids, I am SO Sorry!

The country has gone into shock over the Nithari killings. The mangled parts of the victims are still being sieved out of the drain behind industrialist Mohinder Singh Pandey’s house. Helpless parents from all nearby areas are coming to Sector 31, to see if some bit of all that flesh, bones, blood or cloths, belonged to their lost child. Half a dozen UP cops have been sacked, a couple of probes being ordered. And what does the sick psychopath have to say? “Please forgive me, I committed a mistake”

This was not done for money, though the latest update is that this sicko was involved with organ trading too, along with everything else. But the way he went about is appalling. He and his personal human slicer servant, Surendra Kohli, lure little kids with sweets, get them in the house, sexually abuse and then kill them. Then the victim’s head is cut of, his/her body chopped like bits of meat, packed in a gunny bag and then carelessly dumped in the drain. Police found a saw, yes a saw, in the house allegedly used for the whole slicing-the-kids-up ritual. And this routine happened, over 20 times, over a span of two years.

No Mister, you didn’t commit a mistake. You committed rape. You committed murder. You committed the gory act of killing 21, and God knows how many more, innocent people. Children. And in the most cruel possible manner imaginable. You don’t deserve forgiveness. You deserve the noose.

Forgiveness. A rather funny thing, don’t you thing? Noble, undoubtedly. It gives you a sense of power, a sense of having done something rather good, both asking for it, and giving it. In a way, you feel vindicated. You wrecked my life, but I forgive you. You hurt me like hell, but I forgive you. But how can you forgive a person who takes away something so precious from you life, that you can never be the same again. These people, these parents, what had they done to deserve such a fate? Those kids, what had they done? Why did they have to die, in a way that you only read in cheap thrillers and psychology case studies?

Human rights group waste no time going up in the arms when ever someone is sentenced to death. ‘Oh, I understand that he killed so many, but killing him is not human.’ ‘Life is sacred, and when you don’t have the power to give it, you don’t have the power to take it.’ Heck, there was a bloody strike in Kerela because Saddam Hussain was hanged. Yes human life is sacred, yes killing is inhuman. That is just why these worst forms of vermin deserve to die. When you kill someone, and kill them not out of rage, not out of revenge, but just for the heck of it, you forfeit your right to live. Your life can no longer be sacred property, when you have taken so many. And taken them without remorse, without conscience. As far as I am concerned, that makes a pretty strong case point in favour of the gallows.

Skeletons

What if one day you wake up, and realise that you are sick of the lie that you have been so carefully building up all your life? That you have been so busy in playing this person you thought you should be that you forgot what it was to be you? That perhaps, there is no such things as "you"...just a collation of reactions. Reactions to what others said. Others did. You just went through life, one reaction to another.

Your folks wanted to you to be like every other kid- smart, rich, happy. So you decided to be a rebel, but where is your cause? Your friends wanted you to be more understanding, so you pretended to understand. But what do you want to be? What are you? Is there even a real you? And if there is, then why doesn't this real you ever raise her voice in protest?

You never felt anything. You never hated anyone, never loved anyone. You so desperately wanted to, so you convince yourself it is because you are unique. You can't be what others are. You have different priorities. And no one understands that.

You pretend to be smart. You pretent to be strong. Arrogant. Ambitious, no-nonsense woman.
And in your heart you know you are that 12 year old who used to close the door, play the music loud, and then sit and cry. Just because you thought if someone saw your tears, they would know how stupid and weak you really are.

Some skeletons have this habbit of popping up in your mind when just when you had completely forgotten about them.

No people, I am not depressed. This is, afterall, just another cheap trick to grab attention.

May be I should take Lash's advice. And get me a coffin. Cheers!

Some Gentleman’s Game This

On Tuesday, Nov 28^th, the front page of TOI carried a photograph that quite simply made my blood boil. Couple of Lok Janashakthi Party “activists” smearing cow dung, on the picture of the Indian cricket team, and on the walls of cricketer Mohhamad Kaif’s house. What sort of a behaviour is that? What filthy attitude is that? Okay, so the whole country is angry because of the team’s dismal performance. I am too. We are a cricket crazy nation. We are an otherwise crazy nation too. The players are some kind of demi-gods, with temples dedicated to them. India wins; it’s a nation wide party. If it loses, then it’s the Great Depression. Before every world cup, people take it on themselves to conduct pujas on the players’ behalf, for the team to perform well. It’s like the team is this giant kid, going to give it’s broad exams, with the expectations of a family of a billion, weighing upon it.

And I have always thought that we have a team made for the population. It’s equally unpredictable. And just as crazy. It loses matches that seem like a breeze. And when the whole world has said the last word, the Men in Blue go down under and pull out a miracle.

But honestly, this time I think we have broken all boundaries. Both the team in dismally sad performance, and the rest of the country in over reacting. What right do some nutty party non-workers to go deface a player’s house? Smear it with cow dung? A follow up a few days later said that the family was considering moving out of UP because it had become difficult for them to live in such psychotically hostile surroundings. If I remember right, some hooligans has previously thrown stones at the house in a previous incident. I can understand their decision to move, what I don’t understand is why.

It is about time we act a little more grown-uppish about the game. Okay, it is not just a game, it is a religion. But no one says religion has to always involve violent knee-jerk reactions, and harm to people and property. Or is it that religious riots and violence in the name of Gods, and now demi- gods, has become the part of the Indian way of life?

First thing to do, would be to actually chuck that precious coach of ours. I don’t really care to analyze his coaching or cricketing abilities. He just can’t seem to know how to conduct himself in public, and honestly, he is made more news for his controversial comments and nit-pickings- first with the then-caption, and now with the MPs, than he has ever done for the team’s performance under him. We don’t need a coach to teach our players how to play cricket, they are good at it on their own. We need a coach to bring the players together to perform as a team, and perform well. And this, Mr. Chappell has sorely, dismally, failed to do. He is appointed to do a job in a country that is not his own, he could begin with having some respect for that country. And not play the smart ass there, and always pass the buck to someone else all the time. I don’t remember one incident, where Chappy has come forward to take responsibility, and said, “the team didn’t perform well, it was a joint responsibility, we are sorry”. Instead, he is full of complaints, for the team, for the captain, for the MPs and for the board. WTF?!!!

And now, dear darling Members of the mighty Indian Parliament, are you really so starved for attention? Why is that you are so hell bent on losing what ever little respect that we have for you? Ooh ooh! A defense scandal! The defense minister has to step down! Ooh! Ooh! A communal riot! The CM should step down! Ooh! Ooh! Pakistan sneezed! The Prime Minister step down! Please, stop thinking that asking people to resign whenever there is a controversy, will immediately solve all the country’s problems. If it did, we won’t need you. Well, on second thoughts, we don’t need you anyways.

And to my fellow media guys, people! Why do have to work so hard to make our MPs look like a bunch of bumbling fools? Stop trying to reinvent the wheel, and start publishing on some real news. If you don’t stop hounding the minister to get sound bites, and stupid remarks, you probably miss Ash and Aby’s baby lighting a diya together, Ganga kinaare, after they fought about Ash- Hritik kiss being 2 secs too long. After all that is breaking news we all are holding our breath for.

And to the Men In Blue, COME ON guys!!!!

Miss Know-It All said: The blue billion rises. The so do the Men- in- Blues! It’s all just fizz. Sab moh maya hai!