Must Halves...

The Paranormal year Theory

2008.first half walked straight to the second half and said "You're so gonna rot". Which half's the best? Let's deny knowledge for a while..

ideally, 12/12 = 1
rajturl2008eally, (5/12)bliss+(7/12)blues = ?
globally, (x/12)expression1+(y/12)expression2=? [x=your months containing expression1,y=your months containing expression2;see my expression above]
astronomically, this year will have an extra second called the 'leap second'. aah! What agony!
factually/practically/astronumerologically,if 2008 was one, 2009 is two.
twice of what.... ?

Happy New Year readers
:)

PS:oops! did i say 'deny'?'derive' I meant.but let's not derive 2009 from 2008.

The Best Joker

After a longgg lull,comes a post from me [following the few sad crappy posts]. Last few months for me have been dull. I lost out on a few things; I ran out of ideas on short stories, poems, philosophy[?], etc..Weekends are even worse. But..today..comes a tribute to a Legend,if I may call him so. Heath Ledger. I so wish i could rename that to Heath Legendger! The Dark Knight needs no introduction, so does Heath. His role as The Joker goes down as one of Hollywood's finest [brilliant rather]. No actor has moved me this much [more so 'coz he's not with us now]..We miss you :(( Even if he misses an Oscar, he's won love from everyone over the world hands down.

A tribute to Heath Ledger

Nothing great to say about the drawing. I just wanted it to be a tribute. No great shading,no great use of pencil [the shades and the ignorance on the boundaries proves the point.dirty]. And yes, the cross on the bat is to say it's not Batman [Christian Bale was great anyway] but the movie is about The Joker.
Incase some of you have missed my old drawings[drawn with greater concentration] here are the links [click]: Poirot, Tintin, Harry, Pokemon, Calvin&Hobbes, Simpsons.

Coming soon...A little story I've been thinking...

Frame...

[crazy thought.reader discretion advised. think at the end of it if you wish to read.]

Who framed I...

Frame I

I had a bottle in my hand, filled in some water, not till the brim. Hall-full, half-empty (the way we see it they say.crap.both mean the same), I placed it in my bag hoping it wouldn't leak. But it did! Why? That's coz it never was held straight in the bag on the back. Even worse, the shirt gets wet and someone asks 'dude, any water left? I'm thirsty.' 'Oh, yes here's my shirt, squeeze it. you freak.' 

I keep staring at a beautiful movie poster. Aaah the girl of my dreams, lovely eyes with a mascara, long hair... The only problem is: the guy is right next to her, caressing. 'Is this movie any good?' 'Oh, yes it's a must-watch!', said someone with a shrug. Alright I love sarcasm, off to watch it in a theatre that turns out to be an aluminium enclosure with bed bug embedded chairs. And the movie is actually good. The theatre opposite looks much better and it runs a dubbed version of a famous english movie.

There are thousands of speactators at a cricket ground in India. And guess who gets flashed on screen? A guy trying to fondle a girl. Spotted! How [un]lucky is he! 

Frame II

When the opportunity comes and goes out of hand in no time. Be it anything.

Both frames differ in weird ways. 

->Assuming the bottle would hold itself in the bag.

->Assuming the theatre would support your excitement to watch the girl of your dreams on the large screen.

->Assuming you wouldn't get noticed amongst the thousands.

Assumptions gone wrong.

->You lay the groundwork for an opportunity to knock only to notice it passed.

Hopes dashed.

We are within the frame where the consequence is an emotion. Always!

So, I wouldn't want to know(a wish to forget) in what way the two frames espouse each other. I just wish to be like an ant that finds its way to the sugar crystal even in the cleanest of rooms! A Tiny little creature surviving the huge world! Cos it hopes it doesn't come under the soles of the feet.

I assume.To hope. It is always 'I' who has the right to frame the right frame. Isn't it?

Doll!

Dolls.I lev it...!

Well! I don't know what to talk about 'dolls'. I love them. I, infact, have written about my fave doll. Read it now. But this one, is a little different. Scary (intended to be) and nothing more. And the music is kinda :-|

Here's the link to the video. Watch it in full screen [brightness level is low, haven't edited it.]
->Watch!

:-|

Oh I See...

I don’t really understand these directions, I mean, the way to take. Could you just tell me which way to take… here I am, sector six, but there are…..3 routes that take me to the next level..i mean..the next sector,I don’t really know… here’s the map..

Didn’t you follow the map until here? Even I am one of those lost guys. It’s the desert, how do you expect me to take a decision for you?

Oh sorry.. you don’t work at this gas station?

Interlude.

Even If I want to believe, I see there is no truth. I find it difficult to trust anyone. If I am left with no choice, do I really have to take it? So I challenged myself take a map, head towards a place where there are a million directions, you HAVE TO GET LOST, choose what comes to your mind, lose yourself. Judge…

So I did. I reached sector seven crossing the previous six with ease. I did not even have to use the map given. Aah now I know why the seventh feels so difficult.

Blink.

‘Holy crap…’, replied the guy at the gas station.

I know better. Take the right fork to sector seven, blurted another man from the inside.

I did nothing.

Identification vs trust? I don’t get it. Even if I want to believe…

and so there are such people who exist.

For you Sarah!

Love you Sarah! I found you when I found myself lost. Break me from here. You are my girl! It was you who told me:  "Trust me" means absolutely zero inside these walls.

In Love +

Marrying Music

Aankhon Mein Jis Ke Koi To Khwaaab Hai
Khush Tha Wahin Jo Thoda Betaaab Hai
Zindagi Mein Koi Arzooo Kijiye
Phir Dekhiye...

Hoton Pe Jis Ke Koi To Geeet Hai
Woh Haare Bhi To Us Ki Hi Jeeet Hai
Dil Mein Jo.. Geet Hai Gun Guna.. Lijiye
Phir Dekhiye...

Yaadon Mein Jis Ke Kisi Ka Naaam Hai
Sapno Ke Jaise Us Ki Har Shaaam Hai
Koi To ho jisse.....Apna Dil.. Dijiye
Phir Dekhiye...

Khwab Bun.. Yeh Zara Geet Sun.. Yeh Zara
Phool Chun.. Yeh Zara... 
Phir Dekhiye...

+ with the song. the tune. the words...

The Little Girl...

Point Of Restriction

It has been difficult. Everytime I curse living in this place, everytime I curse the circumstances that brought me to a situation that forces me to smile, I feel so disconnected. I did vie for this, one amongst many such people. While I delved into all this, attempting to release myself from the slag has been a job so tough! It rendered me immobile and speechless. Literally.

An incident one night gave me the kick, something that garnished my gamut of emotions. I was on the road walking alone staring at the tall trees, trees that prevented moonlight reaching the road, light that would otherwise bounce off the road. Guiding light! As I passed a chai stall, a man flicked my shirt pocket. I had nothing in it. Yet I felt the heaviness. The heaviness of paper. A paper that read 'Room ahead. Restrict your thinking!'. That did not make any sense to me.

I did walk a few steps ahead. Instinct! Curiosity! What could restrict my thinking mean? I did not find a room. Instead it was just a raised platform. Hands on hips cursing the guy, I wondered what made him pick me. My eyes looked at the floor and my legs restless. I felt a hand holding me as I answered a few questions to myself. It was a little girl dressed in whitish pink. She said nothing. She raised her finger and pointed at the sky. She then spoke, restrict your restrictive thinking. Look at the sky. Look at the moon. There isn't a tree. There are millions of stars. A few twinkle and a few dull. Then she disappeared. I still felt her grip.

Yes. Since then I stopped staring at the ceiling of my room. I brought myself into the open. I love the sky. Just hop on from one star to another, there is a different twinkle each time. I felt her smile. And everytime I am alone, her point of restriction fetches me a smile.

Anchored!

It's a sign...

I had the shoe brush in my right-hand while I held the boot with my left. Ever since people tagged me as the soliloquy bugger, I began talking to myself even more. What’s wrong? I talk to myself. There are two persons living within me, the fiend and the conscience. What’s wrong if I butt in? I chuckled and continued admiring the beauty of the beach, still holding the boot in my hand. Whoa! Thanks mom, this place is lovely. Who often gets to have a holiday in such a place! Yeah, it’s a dusty place. Or sandy? The beach is meant to be sandy. Blah. How does it matter if I wear my boots or not? Whatever! I dropped the brush and left one boot unpolished. The sun set in the horizon against the backdrop of the trees and birds. Amazing! What the… I still haven’t felt the sand all day. I got glued to my chair trying to break my writers’ block. Just then I noticed a smile formation on the sand. Brilliant! Nature’s calling. Time to set foot on the sandyland…I hopped past the boulders of stone, barefoot, before I slipped and fell over hurting my knee. Damn the boots. Aren’t they for sand? I would have had them for grip on these rocks. Sigh! I managed to pick myself up. Thank you, let’s move on to see the smiley. Alas! I lost track of the place where I spotted it from my room. Ridiculous, if only I managed to have my boots on! But yeah I realized I was standing on the nose of the once-upon-a-time-smiling-smiley-formation-on-the-sand. Where are the eyes? The nose happened to extend itself meeting the smile perpendicularly and the eyes disappeared. How fitting! .The shape resembled an anchor and what does this signify?

I returned to my room when I heard my mom shouting, her voice fleeting in the wind ‘Son, get your butt off the chair and get on the beach. You anchored yourself to this darned chair since the time I brought you here.’ 

Yes, nature beckons… 

[my friend had asked me to post something delightful instead of a serious post. hence this.]

The Change. To Question.

Identity

[thoughts depicted in the passage below have been a result of a debate, an on-going debate trying to rediscover truths. Hence, they are purely my view and are not in conflict with any other. These are open to discussion and criticism. However, I have used first person plural in this passage. Oh btw, the debate has been with myself, questioning the very purpose of what I’ve seen.]

· When we are the same everyday, we seem to find ourselves on a monotonous ride, a ride that seems to take us on the path that we all expect. If there is a deviation, we know it has risen out of the irregularities, something that is not intended. I thought undergoing a change, an identity will add a new dimension, in the way we would wish it to be. But we are never really sure if that change benefits us, in a way to change the irregularity. The seconds are just coming, the very blink of an eye is a moment. What we are missing is the instant that we miss during the blink. If that is what we are missing, how many instances have we missed every time our eyes are closed?

· Here’s an excerpt from ‘Waking Life’:

Creation seems to come out of imperfection. It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration. And this is where I think language came from. I mean, it came from our desire to transcend our isolation and have some sort of connection with one another. And it had to be easy when it was just simple survival. Like, you know, "water." We came up with a sound for that. Or "Saber-toothed tiger right behind you." We came up with a sound for that. But when it gets really interesting, I think, is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing. What is, like, frustration? Or what is anger or love? When I say "love," the sound comes out of my mouth and it hits the other person's ear, travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain, you know, through their memories of love or lack of love, and they register what I'm saying and they say yes, they understand. But how do I know they understand? Because words are inert. They're just symbols. They're dead, you know? And so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It's unspeakable. And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another, and we feel that we've connected, and we think that we're understood, I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion. And that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.

I can recollect the caustic words of my roommate's girlfriend, probably out of striving and frustration ‘if a guy cannot risk his life for his girlfriend, then he isn’t worth to be the one.’ The words would have come out of the desire for survival, surviving with the one she wants but there is a person at the receiving end and does the same run through his mind? He has a feeling he is living for and if he is questioned, then he begins to question his own frustration. Everything seems normal but there is a loophole rooted within that little gap of communication that brought an end to their relationship. So the question is: do we have to be a different person to confirm our existence? And if we do undergo a change, are we solving the purpose that actually failed last time or do we have to when we know we aren’t wrong? We know what we are and yet we do not understand. We now need the right symbols to communicate with.

· Disconnecting with one’s own self has its consequences. Imagine being bombarded with praise or insults or associating yourself with ruthless aspects of your existence. It begins to affect your routine in commonplace. We steer our routine based on what we see around us. If you are staring at a black cloud and hoping for sunlight while others hope for rain, you are not the common man, you have disconnected yourself and you are waiting to see a change.

· There is always something called a blind-belief. If the odds are zero, you seem to think you hit a dead-end. There is something beyond the end. We need a path to penetrate the impossible. If you have accepted that the odds are zero and moving on [with or without a clue with what’s ahead], and if you are of the opinion the path ahead is visible, then there is a chance we are blinded by the light. If darkness blinds us, so can light. The odds are balanced. The way we take it. To make our chance even, it has to be belief. Call it blind or deadened?

I dented my identity to see myself. Way back in may, I decided to follow my belief, for a reason. Though the coin flipped rendering the belief blind, I’m looking and giving myself a chance to experience the difference. And the change is: no hair, no moustache. Call it a dent! I have to justify this. [another excerpt from ‘Waking Life’: You haven't met yourself yet. But the advantage to meeting others in the meantime is that one of them may present you to yourself. Examine the nature of everything you observe. For instance, you might find yourself walking through a dream parking lot. And yes, those are dream feet inside of your dream shoes. Part of your dream self. And so, the person that you appear to be in the dream cannot be who you really are. This is an image, a mental model.]

A woman talks about Benedict Anderson's view on Identity:

Well, he's talking about like, say, a baby picture. So you pick up this picture, this two-dimensional image, and you say, "That's me." Well, to connect this baby in this weird little image with yourself living and breathing in the present, you have to make up a story like, "This was me when I was a year old, and then later I had long hair, and then we moved to Riverdale, and now here I am." So it takes a story that's actually a fiction to make you and the baby in the picture identical to create your identity.

And the funny thing is, our cells are completely regenerating every seven years. We've already become completely different people several times over, and yet we always remain quintessentially ourselves.

Hmm.

The day has come

Last day. I have to do it... I have a reason...

Fitting fifty?

I see a blogpost with the lamp of a question mark

I have been on a journey since 27months. The day I put my thoughts on screen, I thought I’d be looking at something big. It really is too early to see where I stand. I realized I just found my roots and it will take long to make them grow. I have tried to be one of the weirdest guys on the blog, I have made posts that seemed crazy but, to be honest, I hoped the reader would read and reread my posts, noting all the italics, letters in bold, accents, quotes, spaces and the one-liners and anything that looked irregular. If I need to grow as a writer or simply a blogger, I need to be honest with what I write. I have never flicked anything from anywhere. If I did, I happened to give the source and the reason for doing so.

“If there is honesty in my passion, then the passion grows.

If there is truth and sense in what I love, then I’ll get close. “

- rajeev. to myself.

Close to what I wish to see, what I wish to have. Along the journey, I have read articles and other blogs that influenced me; there have been quotes and stories that inspired me. I [deterministically] feel all the sayings are in place, that come out of experience, experience that comes out of love or hatred, pain or gain, and they need not apply to us. That pushed me to write something that would stamp my name, my own self. And I also realized for the own self to get going, one needs favoritism or criticism. Either ism drives me a mile ahead. And for that, I have had a few people reading my blog [though sometimes I had to push a few of them to read.]

It’s time I acknowledge a few, for one reason: This is my 50^th post… yes; I have stopped fifty times along this journey. Or have I moved fifty times?

My brother, my sister and my bhabi[they have been amazing], Akshaya [no wonder], varun [for obvious reasons], karthik abhiram [who balances work and passion], shreyasee [who manages to read even the weirdest posts], sushma [who believes my posts deserve special mention and that I have to continue writing stuff that needs ‘thinking’], Ashwin [who manages to praise my blogs no matter what the content is], Vijay [who spares time and puts in all the pain to read my posts], Ravithej [who reads and reads] and last (but not the least), deepthi [who managed to support me since the start until I hit a writer’s block].

As I treat this post as my first pit stop, I hope to take off with posts that matter; Tearjerkers or funny tales or just life.

At the blogpost that reads ‘50’, I ask myself: fitting fifty?

Some of my picks from the last fifty posts:

0. Hercule poirot: the drawing

1. Don't talk, just burn out

2. Hogwarts Wizard

3. Tintin and Snowy: the drawing

4. Phewmore

5. Pokemon

6. A tale of tales (by far my best)

7. Freedom Writers

8. My Doll (my first poem, a special post)

9. Calvin and Hobbes: the drawing

10. Rash's luck

11. The Simpsons: the drawing

12. Staring at bla[n]ckness

13. Senseeing

Strike!

Death[s] in the next lane!

I have little to write now. My hands have been shivering terribly since a few days. There have been three strikes in the last three weeks and 10 deaths! Lemme explain:
1) I was riding my bike when a guy(right in fronta me) toppled,rolled over and... Severe injuries. It could have easily been me...
2) I was waiting for a bus along with my mom before dropping her at the railway station and a guy was hit by another and...the guy broke his leg,he split his feet, bone crushing and...Leg's beyond repair...
3)The news of a psychopath in my area who had already claimed nine lives.[link] and the latest is a man who lives right next to my lane! And he has his own violent, gory and.........ways of taking lives! That makes it ten.

2008 sucks! Never at peace.

Grotesque. Who's next!

Travel Bug

Comedy Of Errors

Well,it has been a day of pain! I wonder why my stomach hates me. Probably 'cos of the medication I have been on since a few days, I just couldn't manage sitting in office, even my PM pitied me :( . Amidst all this, there was total comedy of errors. A colleague of mine called me up and asked me a few sites to book tickets for bus. I knew he actually booked his return train ticket on the 20th of july from hyderabad to chennai. What went wrong?any change of plans?I asked and he said ya i'm on bench, i'll be taking a month off :P, he replied. what! I exclaimed. the problem was the girl he was travelling with, booked the return ticket on the 20th of august instead of the 20th of july. lol. and she made the same mistake thrice while booking online. poor girl, chitti as we call her. So there was total chaos. Well! I made a similar mistake once. I booked a ticket to B'lore for 10am instead of 10pm [eventually missing it that day]. The similarity between these two errors was 'desperation'. I was desperate to meet a dear friend while they are desperate to come back to chennai and work! [oh btw, i managed to go by an unreserved bus back then. to all the junta: If there is any unreserved bus from anywhere to somewhere, then pl don't take it unless you have someone special to meet ;)]

Vibrations bang on again...

Hands for light

SunSheen

Take me away for
There is little light here.
Gimme the sunshine for
The darkness to clear.

Take me away to
Escape the devilish sneer.
Take me away to
fight that haunting jeer.

Bring me home for
A break to restore me.
Bring me home for
Witnessing that lost glee.

Bring me home to
Seed a new day.
Bring me home to
Be happy and gay.

Vibrations

Toast for Change

Ok. I admit. I flicked this title from ‘Freedom Writers’. Don’t blame me; I’ve hit a ‘title block’. I’ve kept my creativity in store for my next project :P. And I see this blog has taken a shift from my regular writings to regular writings [daily-activity based]. Well, I have a plan in mind, to write something big, until then I decided to see myself posting to keep myself occupied. Worssht part: I’m in office right now with my project left aside for this post [:|].

Why is this post called ‘a toast’? Yes, july 12^th, 2008 was a day to note. I was in Queensland, Chennai, an amusement park. I was actually taken there by my training-batchmates :D very concerned you see. [I refused to go initially :|] Amusement park brings back some fond memories [new year ’07, Hyderabad, I was in a similar place]! I was reluctant to step in, with water, rides all around me. nostalgic![My friend says such recollecting/memories are called ‘vibrations’. Oh!] The difference was: there were more people this time. Friends who appeared close.

It was a decent day until I went on a cable-car ride [second time after hyd] with a friend and he bugged me to click pictures. 5MP cam put to use after long! This ride was longer. My friend says good for couples :P [sigh!, he didn’t know I was with a girl last time on such a ride ;)] and then I refused to go on other rides. Nerves! :|

It was all fine until I got into water and had the best time swimming on my friend’s back :P. it was pure kiddish-fun. Jalakaalatalalo… blah blah song. I got in with my gifted contact lenses :D And then some water-slides.

Here comes the best part: lunch and guess what! I was fed :D by two girls. And then there was cup-corn, I was fed again :D I’m a kid I say. Aah! Somebody cares. Then there was normal waiting for people to flock and get back home.

And then it rained… but my vibrations still remain.

!

Down...

Climbing the Ladder

It sounds so weird but i haven't seen any guy's emotional graph go up and down. the funniest thing is it stays down for a long time until the guy goes to his room and sits with his friends. A friend says this is just a phase while the other says aaj pooja kal koi dooja before the third buttts in and says ladki ki tarah mat ro re ***** . Taxing! really taxing! I have written many posts on emotion, he should have read them! His Business analyst happened to read his___ bhari kahaniyaan on the office blog and it did not take him anytime to guess what the situation was. agle din uske mohalle mein aishwarya aayi he said. :O the guy found himself restless, dumb and had neither an answer nor smile. He just misses the loving paradise past, the entity that created it! Like akshaye khanna in DCH says 'is mitti ko dekh rahi ho?jitni hi kas kar pakadne ki koshish karogi,utni hi aasaani se haath se nikal jaati hai' [similar lines]...

Numerous things have happened.I was watching this all through with the guy living within myself!
It's been exactly a month since a major change happened. May be i should try writing more stuff.
I got influenced watching 'Waking life'.Click to check out the script. I love being weird!

The reason for this post: Another day in Paradise! Definitely not...

Akka: Don't hate me for being so sensitive. You know me!

Monotonous?

Day before to Yesterday...

Work will grow on me. shortly. As the pressure mounts and expectations heap (assuming there are expectations), nerves begin to tighten. ‘?’ OMG there are chances of paralysis. You never know when you actually cross your threshold until something happens. If you are rightly experienced there are chances to reduce the fatality to a danger! Nonetheless there is risk at every walk of life.

It is weird and gets annoyingly monotonous to hear people say ‘learn from experience. Learn from mistakes. Time heals everything. Everyday is a new day. Practice makes a man perfect. Be brave, face your fears. Forget the past, concentrate on future!’. … aah! how easy is that!

We constantly live in fear (rooted deep within: you never know what might happen the next second). Yet we are brave enough to bury it right there and plan for the future. Right approach. The inner strength oozes and probably that is why we exist. We are going to decay in a few years from now. But are we giving up?

Noted. There can be motivation. Say ‘oh yes. Right!’ and blink. Blink several times to realize we are still here.

But..Wasn’t 'yesterday' a future for the 'past'?

Breathed into...

Breathed

I Breathe your mind,
Of the fallen leaves
And broken branches.
I breathe your mind,
Of the dead root
And its lifeless crawl.

I breathe the pain,
Choking every corner
And of immobilizing moves.
I breathe the pain,
Seeing your lofted cordate
And the shimmering face of vee.

I breathe the insanity,
Filling every gap
And rendering me ticked.
I breathe the insanity,
Arising from your words
And arresting me itched.

Oh! I breathe to see,
to see the numbness before
and untangle the twists.
Ya! I’m still breathing,
To chalk out the stone
And unearth the sands of time.

As i held it...

QuinCunx. The tale!

preface

I patiently listened to my cousin’s talk. “there are people with me. Yeah. Oh no, not parents. Look where I am. A room dude. With real people. Guys. And it is loadsa fun. But dude dude get the right ones!”

Stop the dude. The drone of the buzzing bee was getting itchy. It whizzed past my ears as they never swooped in to the hub of what he called the symphony of life, the way to experience decorous deviltry!

Soon the bee stung me. And the rest remains…

I was seeing myself at the centre with four people around me, each with a parchment that I had to read. What was it!

I

I turned right and I found the first one. I picked to read it. It read…

‘It will be great baap. See we do not expect savings right now. I mean it is not possible. It is a different place. I spoke to some of my friends and I think we can manage it.’ I have been stingy in my life a little and stingy for a reason. I wanted to save for something big. Would I be able to make myself comfortable if I always worked for what I wanted? Letting go what essentials that need to come in? And if it was the initial comfort I needed before I set foot on a land that I always hated then that was it. I had a plan and he had his. Soon he realized spending is not all. He realized money for oneself is worth a lot. We began to talk about how financially strong he was, what difficult times he has seen his family go through and what life really is. By then I knew he was a thing with girls, tossed coin to impress girls or zzzzz them without sympathy! He respected personal feelings and extend a hand of support. He is believed to be biased towards people from the north. But he made a choice to share roomspace with me. Was it because he wanted to or was it because he wanted just someone? The answer seemed obvious. The wall of security just grew as days passed though I feared instincts would create a hurdle. Months drifted. He is one person who loves company of a group. He never bothered what else was around him. It seemed it replaced the agony of missing the ones back home. If you ever feel left out when you hang out with him then speak out something that irritates him. You will most likely be supported. It happened to me and I let it happen again. It sounds weird but the wall of security that I built would stand something like this. I mean it was not that weak. The night while we spoke of the day and when I told him I had to take money from a friend of mine, he insisted I take money from him the next time and not any other . I trusted what I framed so far. Even in the most difficult of times talking to the landlord he kept his calm. He probably believed his strength. ‘We are learning a lot from the most cruel people on earth. Let us not make such a mistake. This will end here.’ And it did. I felt relieved I was out of a situation that I had no strength to handle without my dad. It did profit him the way he wanted but the scales of the balance tilt towards comfort. Begin to get insulted by him in a group. End it with the consolation you get in person. He frets with the thought of an MBA in his mind. He dreams big that seems to go beyond the limits of the sky. But that isn’t wrong! NKG – Nitesh Kumar Garg. He wishes to go places. Oh yeah, btw you need to get an appointment to take a drive in his alto! I rolled the parchment and placed it on the ground.

II

I quickly turned my left to pick my next parchment. ‘Kaka chindi karo. Aisa karna padta. anthe rao garu nenu basically chala chedda vadni. Am a rotten cheapo u see…do not trust me .’ decide for yourself when you meet this hunk. He is yet another Johnny bravo. Dig into his history and you will never get a clear picture. He’s a mix of inferiority and superiority. Probably a little less of the latter. Stay with him for a few days and you will begin to believe him. I had known quite a bit about him from NKG. I spoke to this guy for the first time while I asked him to sign an acquaintance/witness signature on an office document during my induction. I thought I would never see him again. He was one of NKG’s buddies. The next time I spoke to this guy he warned me about girls. He equivocates. During a two minute conversation on the phone he ordered me to come over to his room for some fun. A guy who knew me as NKG’s roommate treated me as one of his closest friends. Yes, that was obvious. But there was the instinct in him yet again that was good enough to spark an everlasting friendship. It feels alright to jump to this conclusion. Everlasting! And I know, so far as the months passed by, I did not make a mistake. He values family a lot and sticks to traditions though he hates to admit it. He loves to live life as it comes. It might sound monotonous but it definitely is true. Every picture he has taken has this guy hanging in the air! And not just that, he has a collage of photos that portrays so much. The first look brought tears to my eyes. It has his parents, his close friends, his college memories, his brother, his everyone who made a difference in his life. He says they remind him of some wonderful days. And when he spent an entire day in an orphanage I was convinced he has a heart kinder than the kindest person. How would you feel if an orphan climbed onto your shoulders? This guy loved it and described it in such a way that told me children are meant to be loved. Human values are rooted well within one. He lends a shoulder when you want one. His activity graph throws a weird picture. He enjoys one second and studies the next. Does he forget to smile through all this? No. Has the extra-ordinary ability to make you laugh even when the other has tears of sorrow! Don’t get surprised at his memory. Not a sieve but a hard toughened plasma. Not only being a good singer he does it without loss of words. He brings the essence of the song with perfection.’ ento mama na meeda naku nammakamu ledu em chestano ento! I doubt myself’ these freaking words of his can drive the listener crazy. In the weirdest circumstances you tend to give back his teachings to him. Not a hypocrite but this guy needs to be ignited, some body to give him a kick to let him loose. One who realizes his duties and knows how well to time oneself in life should never let his ability deceive him. Why am I saying this! I found a solution to something that didn’t have an answer before. Susu – Ashwin Susarla’s parchment is thus closed for people to consider friendship with.

III

I turned around and faced left to take my third parchment. And that was not sufficient to accommodate this guy’s sketch. He’s everything from a kid to a mature (or is maturely immature!) he’s an addict. An addict at reading. While I get back to his obsession let me tell you I hardly get in touch with this guy. I see him exercise every morning and he gives a feeling he’s growing old. An apt example to support the saying ‘early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.’ He’s wealthy alright but the point to note is that he is determined to make a mark for himself. It is through his dream of being a Chartered Financial Analyst that brought his addiction into picture. He has a world of books on stocks and business. He does make an attempt at reading them, sometimes in a position not suitable for reading. This guy lacks the courage to talk straight looking into a girl’s eyes. And yet he speaks of her behind her back. He tries to pour in humor that is difficult to comprehend without a second thought. He’s real deal at fun, takes everything in the right spirit and moves on. He lends a helping hand on most occasions. And for guys who wish to have girlish fun in the room, this is the guy. I am winking at the moment. Salim Pheku – Lokesh Agarwal, a name that can be seen on a dozen credit cards. If you happen to find one the road, find him. Find and befriend. The third parchment thus finds it place beside the other two.

IV

The most complex parchment is next in store as I turn to the other side. I felt it lacked content when I set my hand on it. I opened it to know only quite a little. This guy is a maniac. He drives like he’s tail is on fire. Caution with aggression I must admit. He abides by his values and principles. He draws a boundary around him that he is very strict with. He has the biggest air of insecurity, does not trust anyone easily. He prefers to live a life of a recluse. The only time he wishes to mingle is when he tries to extend a helping hand. He has deep roots of faith and goes any extent to preserve it. There is a lot of dedication in this guy. I know very little of him. Adi – Aditya Dixit, who must be a fairy! Before you talk to him, take his earphones out of his ears. Just do it! With just a few lines etched on this parchment, I picked the other three and rolled them into one.

I have one thick scroll in my hand that needs to be read over and over to ensure it undergoes the forces of wear and tear.

QuinCunx. I stood in the middle still staring at the breeze. I was stung while I began to write all this and the pain still remains. Probably reminding me I need to long for something more inkling, something worth inking on the one large parchment I made for myself.

at 23!

Adventy 3

73 days! I’m back after such a huge block that hit me hard. I’m out of a nebula that plagued my thought. But this mark did mark an epoch in my life… I witnessed a few highs and a few lows. Like I always said: little sights that seem meaningless point us somewhere. Point me somewhere.

My first month at job was more of a painful wait. What did I wait for! I’m a person who hates to be idle when the other isn’t. You do not wish to be using version 1.0 while your friend is using all the features in version 2.0! Though I hate to slog at length I wish to have work. Oh yes I got firefox installed on my office machine. Working with tabs is much easier. Chuck the old version of ‘!3’ explorer…

I curse a lot. There is Cappuccino on the first floor, not on third. Weird! one of the three elevators changes numbers but stays on the same floor! Mr. Elisha Graves Otis, you are laughing in your grave, aren't you!

Dina is always on the phone. Frustrated, flabbergasted and f*d. There is constant talk of business! ‘I expect so much man. Don’t make me slog my @#$ for nothing in return. It is a matter of making our presence felt in four countries machaan.' I wish to become a delivery manager! I’ve learnt to talk a lot. To be gutsy…

I was on the beach this evening. A kid had a huge pair of skates to her feet and off she went! It was awesome. Confidence and skill. Oh that was on the road along the beach. Kick off and fly...

I am 23 now. And I guess for the first time somebody threw a party for me. Cake, food and surprises. Though that was a couple of days before my actual birthday, it was fun. Damn you missed the best part: there was total ‘swear words’ sharing session. In all languages.

I’ve learnt to balance work and home.

Work at work and thoughts of home……

Face of a day...

F.A.C.E

I wakeup hoping to feel fresh air.Heart echoes seriousness and when there is peace the mind sees dead silence.The eyes open to see a dozen pairs of conjectured eyes staring at me hoping for an explanation.I clear my eyes.I slash the noises of the heart and the mind and begin to grace the night.The day has gone against me.The night called for an emprise.At the end of it all, I knew twenty-four hours in this single day defined one 'face' in life.One such day......

Fight:

Not every day ends on a satisfying note.For me,morning is darkness.The Sun still sleeps.It appears the day will be without light.I get fresh(not really.The geyser wasn't switched on!)And then I see there is light everywhere.I have already done something in the dark.
Working in a corporate Environment,with people all around me, I least expect the day to be any good.Yeah,I have a million calls to make,a project to be submitted,timesheet to be filled before a warning pops up and a hell lot.I speak to my friends over a cup of coffee."It's been a long day." I said with a sigh!The Sun sets.I feel so disconnected with the outside world.My mobile phone vibrates and I greatly hope for someone to talk to me.Family,Friends,....My best friend calls up.It just began so well.Miles apart,talk of meet,party,gifts and whatever.And out of nowhere matters go worse.I end up fighting for something so serious that makes the rest of the day dull and lost.Aaah the Sun has set.The day wasn't as bright as it was.Darkness set.The Moon smiled while I stayed holding my mobile in my hand.Lifeless.


Alienation:

I kept staring through the window.The bus travelled through roads bordered by trees.And it showered.The road had its protection from all sides.I begin to shiver.People slept.The journey looked longer than before.My house was still 30mins away.My mobilephone never beeped again.My earphones refused to work.None was beside me.


Conjecture:

Home.I was surprised to see a friend of mine waiting for me at the gate.Finally someone to talk."Oh! Sorry to keep u waiting.Got a lil late.Let's go in." I stepped in.For the next ten minutes I was on a call.Old friend.It's been quite sometime since I last spoke to her.I kept my friend waiting.I made coffee while I still spoke to my friend."You know...you have changed a lot.Girls all around you.You look pretty innocent but you are a silent killer.I thought you are decent.", he said all of a sudden. "HUH? What?This is my old friend.I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.It was an important discussion.She's in trouble and I......" "Enough.I don't think I need to take help from you now.See u." I realised how just a phone call and keeping a person waiting can let people imagine something that goes against you.The Moon was hiding behind the clouds....


Emprise:

I struggled to find sleep.Eyes felt the heaviness but sleep was elsewhere.I took my keys,locked the door and went out for a walk on the beach.It was 01:30am.To my complete surprise I met my friend just outside who had come to drop his friend opposite my house.(Why do I meet someone otuside my house!).I smiled and we just began to walk as he parked his bike.There was not a soul on the road.There were dogs all around us.None at the beach.Only the three of us.A dog followed us.It kept following.All through.Right until the gate of my house while we returned home numb with fear.(Why the hell did I plan to walk at this time?).The moon shone bright...


As i passed the next 3hours seated on a chair,staring at the ceiling and the fan running in full speed,I recollected the day.The day in life where I felt different emotions.Face of a single day that will be remembered.Though not for pleasant reasons....

• Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error. It is these mingled opposites which people our life, which make it pungent, intoxicating. We only exist in terms of this conflict, in the zone where black and white clash.

This post happens to be very abstract.But i just wanted to write.Enthusiasm drained outta me.I hope to comeup with sometime detailed in my next post.

When you need someone!

With[Or]Without

In sweltering heat, while the Sun’s blazing rays penetrated even the thickest skin on the Earth, it only looked every living entity would succumb to Nature’s oppression upon us.
In biting cold, while the Snow’s flaky crystals brought frost bites and made one irreversibly numb; it appeared everything else that survived the heat would finally give up to this cruel face of Nature. There isn’t one place. We are never really at one place…

“Number 40. And..Yes this is my seat”, I spoke to myself, placing my bag underneath the seat, my shirt soaked in sweat and stank really bad.”Do you mind me taking this lower berth? ”, asked a middle-aged pregnant woman. “Oh Sure, your comfort”, was my instant reaction in a tone of rue. I smiled and she never smiled back. I wondered why. As I began reading Stephen King, I could hear the woman quiver and talk on her Sony Ericsson handset, with an Americanized-Indian accent. For the first time I really didn’t bother what model that was. I was rather moved by her voice of anguish. I felt a glug in my throat and continued reading. I soon realized I flipped pages but lost track of the horror in the story. “Why is she in tears?” “Husband deserted her?” “Problems with pregnancy?” “Why the @#$% is she alone on this train? Isn’t there anyone for her?” “Nothing Wrong, lemme just listen to her talk on the phone….” And then…

I couldn’t sit there. I am not good at consoling people in pain. I wished she had some source of gratification and sadly there wasn’t. I got up and walked on to meet my friend who was in the other compartment. I turned and looked again. She took a bundle of papers and did some evaluation. Ticks and crosses. “Teacher I s’pose.” And while she did that, tears kept rolling down her cheeks.
“But why isn’t anybody else bothered? Why are people so indifferent?”

The year was 1998 when she gave birth to her first child. Life seemed happy and gay. She then worked as a Mathematics teacher in Juneau, Alaska. The year was 2000 when she had a miscarriage. Her hopes of a second child got completely shattered. From then on her God-like husband turned evil, she recalled. “Never trust Men”, she said. The year is 2008 and she is just out of a divorce. “What a time to divorce her!”, I thought. Her ten year old son was on the phone that evening on the train. “I’ll be back soon honey... Eat well aaand play ok…. Mamma will… miss you. Ask John for any help…. Take care.”, in an incoherent voice.

I recalled all this the next morning when I resumed reading Stephen King…