Broken______________________Hearts
Left_________________Behind
Sanity___________Departs
Chaotic______Mind
Planned__Confusion
Patterns___________Drawn
Forced________________Intrusion
Donkey’s________________________Dawn
Imitation Is The Best Form Of Flattery!
From dawn till dusk.
Day Begins (
I haven’t prepared for the test at all so I’m pretty sure I’m gonna screw up once again. But it’s not stopping me from going to the college today and I’m really surprised (I mean, it’s normally impossible for me to go to college on a Friday). There’s nothing that I need to do at college, I have only 3 lectures today, so the only thing that I’m usually concerned about (read attendance) doesn’t matter either. But nothing can be done now. I’m ready and in 5 minutes or so, Chhotu will be here.
It’s too late now. We’re going to college after all.
Day Ends (
Yeah, I got screwed, alright. By the way, I did prepare for the test but as the time of the test came nearer, I somehow made up my mind that I wasn’t gonna take it (I still can’t understand how I arrived at that decision!).
But what I hate even more than not taking the test is that I fucked away my whole day doing nothing else instead.
Got bored of the college.
Got bored of the class.
Got bored of even the dhaba.
The only high points of my day were:
- Sitting in the sports room, watching a group of semi-hot girls practicing for some dance competition (it wasn’t wild or sexy, but mildly titillating definitely).
- Delivering a lecture on Relationship Between Mythology & Current Sexual Scenario Of India to my friends. It is a fairly interesting lecture; hopefully, I’ll share it with you soon!
This day never happened.
It has been announced that we’ll be having a retest of JAVA tomorrow. We have been given a chance to improve our grades if we want, as they put it.
“if we want”
Only if I knew what I want.
My days are becoming progressively boring. I mean despite the fact, that it’s extremely hard to find a person who’s more interesting than me, someone who’s bent on becoming a happy person, someone who’s so full of life, I find that quality of my life is not improving at all.
…
…
…
Okay, okay, you got me.
But don’t forget that I could be such a person. And I could have a happy life then.
I wish I knew where to start…
Treat or Treat
It happened on September 17th, 2000.
No it wasn’t something so important that I’d remember the date so clearly; I remember it because it’s my birth date and I was in 9th standard (so basically it’s just a simple application of math).
Anyway, as I said it was my birthday and for the first time in my life (before this, it was my parents’ headache) I became aware of the term ‘treat’ which, as I now understand, is simply a word that people use to tell you that you’re gonna get robbed on certain occasions when you’re “supposed to” be happy, it doesn’t matter whether you really are or not (I mean c’mon who’d be happy about getting older).
So, I was asked by my friends for a treat and, before I could reply, it was decided (without my consent of course) that we were going to some nearby shop for some cold-drinks and maybe something to eat. I did some mental calculation on the way and reckoned it’d cost me some 120-150 bucks. Now let me make it clear at this point, that up till that point of time in my life I hadn’t ever even had that kinda money in my pocket, let alone spending it. Come to think of it, I don’t understand why I was even doing those mental calculations. With just 10 bucks in my pocket (which by the way were given to me by my parents for that “special occasion” that my birthday was) I should’ve already known that I wouldn’t be able to treat even myself, forget about treating those 10 guys at the same time.
It was too humiliating and I don’t know when I made up my mind. I just took some odd randomly wrong turns and got to my home as fast as I could (yes, I didn’t tell anyone that I was going).
Back home, I lied down and presently, I can’t even recall the things that were going through my head that day. I know for sure that I felt like crying (maybe I did). I mean it was one of the most embarrassing events of my life.
That day, I learned one thing for sure; you can never underestimate the power of money. As I always say:
Money can’t buy you happiness, but it’s easier to drown your sorrows in a costly
You say 'Engineers', I say 'Really!'
(A dhaba near a college. 4 engineers are smoking.)
Engineer #1: These frenchies, I tell you, are no good. They are so fuckin’ uncomfortable man. You have to keep changin’ your position all the time.
Engineer #2: Yeah, you’re right. They get stuck in your butt-cracks so often, you know, it gets so painful sometimes. Sometimes I feel like crying man.
Engineer #3: (puffing on a cigarette, appearing tactful) that’s why I wear our simple desi kachhas. They are so comfy, you see, airy and all. You can just relax in them. Total chill!
(Others nod their approval. They continue smoking in silence for a while.)
Engineer #1: But great stuff to show-off. I mean you wouldn’t wanna be caught dead in these desi kachhas. All the cool dudes wear these frenchies only. You don’t wanna get laughed at.
Engineer #3: C’mon dude, summer’s comin’ up. With all the heat and sweat, you’ll get fuckin’ rashes. Then we’ll see which side you’d wanna be on.
(They laugh.)
Amongst them is sitting Engineer #4. He can’t believe he’s really hearing what he’s hearing. He’s not able to get the whole point behind this frenchie v/s desi kachha war. He can’t believe they all are professional software engineers. He’s thankful that they are just engineers and not doctors (at least they’d screw IT industry, not someone’s life).
He sometimes really thinks that if all the fools of the world died, the human race would be extinct!
Everybody says, I'm fine!
Okay, so I flunked my JAVA exam.
In fact, I got a BIG zero (by the way, I simply don’t understand why, since time immemorial, have we been using this “big” to accentuate the impact of zero? Is getting a “big zero” somehow worse than getting simply a “zero”?).
Well, getting zero in one of my courses is not such a big deal for me, that’s a usual happening. In fact, on the contrary, I was happy about the other “more important” things in my life.
The new battery of my phone was working overtime; I had gone to the gym on a Monday (that’s pretty amazing now) and my reputation as a guy who isn’t concerned about his studies at all (and thus, is very chilled out) was on an all-time high.
What else could I ask for?!
Anyway, I was walking down the street absent-mindedly when suddenly a bike screeched to a halt with its front wheel just between my legs. It took me a while to recognize the rider (and almost as much time for my balls to relax again!).
It was my friend from like stone-age (read, childhood). Apparently, he was trying to scare me with this high-speed-sudden-break stunt.
He gave a whole new meaning to the term ‘run into’; kinda like, instead of telling someone ‘I ran into Amit the other day’ he’d say ‘I ran over Amit the other day’.
Anyway, it turns out that he’s pursuing English (Honors) from DU (something that I now wish I had done instead of this crappy Engineering stuff) and was going out with like 4 gals at the same time (also something I wish I had done or could’ve done!).
Well, as the evening progressed, I slowly realize that we both were jealous of each other. I was jealous of all the fun (and not to mention sex) he was getting at DU and he was jealous of the “real education” and “job security” I had.
Well, you see? A classic case of grass-is-always-greener-on-the-other-side syndrome. I mean, hell, we both are screwed but both of us would willingly swap the modes of getting fucked.
Really man, life is shitty!
Screaming Silence (Part-II)
Woke up, got ready and had my breakfast.
The whole time, I was silent.
Watched Seinfeld for like 3 hours. Sniggered in between, and that too half heartedly (what’s up with me, I mean c’mon, there’s hardly anything funnier that Seinfeld).
Mom asked me to switch it (angrezi bakwaas, as she calls it) off quite a few times.
Throughout, I was silent.
Fed up of TV, I read Above Average till sunset (finally, it has started to make sense. It’s not as crappy as its first 100-120 pages).
Somewhere in-between that time, dad came and delivered his daily dose of punch-line.
‘If you had devoted half as much time to reading your engineering course books, you would’ve made something of yourself.’
I give a sarcastic grunt, kinda like ‘Ya, rite!’
But, I was silent.
Went out in the evening for a smoke.
Chor and Ashu were there. They were fighting over something about what to EAT, where to EAT (what else can you expect from ‘em?!). There was also something about some fashion week, something about sexy gals and free food.
Unbelievably, I still was silent.
Chatted with Kayla. Online. I was conversing (virtually!).
But technically, I was silent.
Finished with Above Average at last. All this silence is gettin’ on my nerves now. I feel like screaming.
But weirdly, I’m still silent.
I’m still silent!
If only I had a vent to release my temper!
I’m really pissed and in a pathetic mood right now.
Don’t really know what to say.
Don’t know whether I’m angry at him (for being such a jackass!) or at myself (for unnecessarily losing my temper).
I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. I used to be like this a long time ago, but over the years I changed myself a lot (kinda started controlling my temper). But sometimes things just go over the head.
Guess that’s the way things are meant to be, you can’t always control everything. Sometimes, it’s better to let go.
Can’t write no more.
A line keeps coming back to me. It’s from one of Mark Twain’s works (I don’t remember which one):
...there is not another temper as bad as mine except God Almighty's.
What did I do now?
I’ve made my decision about “it” (refer to the previous post). Applying some illogical logic, I’ve decided that meeting her is more important than going to college.
(Okay, okay, I concede, it is simply the possibility of sex that helped me make that decision)
On the way to home (from her apartment) I stop for a moment. I think I still have time to go to college; maybe it’s not too late yet. Or should I just go to Ashu’s place and hang out a bit? I seem to be in a fix once again.
Dad calls, shouts for like 2 minutes and asks me to come back ASAP.
…
Well, I guess dad’s still helpful in makin’ important decisions of my life!
I’ve been sitting on my bed for last 20 minutes, starin’ at wall.
This boredom is too much to handle. I think banging my head into the wall might be a good idea (at least, nursing my head would occupy my time, curing my boredom).
Craziness takes over. I sneak out of my house and call up Ashu to pick me up.
I and Ashu just started watching The Reader (at his place). Dad calls and scolds the hell outta me.
‘Tu chahta kya hai? (What do you want)’ he shouts on the phone.
‘Papa, abhi to aaya hi hun, thodi der tak wapas aa aunga. (I’ve just reached dad, I’ll come back after some time)’ I say.
‘Bhaad mein ja! (Go to hell)’ I can sense the frustration in his voice.
Thankfully, my battery runs out (well, not my battery exactly, the battery of my cell-phone).
We (me, Chor, Ashu and Chhotu) are playing cricket.
I’m blissfully ignorant.
I don’t really remember that my phone is switched-off and no one can call me up.
Back home, I’m typin’ this post.
Half-an-hour ago my dad gave me an ultimatum that either I mend my ways or pack up the things I need and get the hell out of “his house”.
Well, I’m not really sure what went wrong..!!
Catch-22 (Part-II)
Mid-semester exams are over now.
Well, it’s pretty much the same for me. Mid-sems don’t have any effect on my life at all. They can’t keep me from having my share of fun.
…
…
…
OK, OK, my life sucks and I hardly have any fun, but, tell you what, mid-sems weren’t keeping me from cribbing about my life; so, my previous statements weren’t entirely false.
Well, now that I didn’t go to college I got a lot of time at my hand. So I decided to catch up on things that are important in my life. So I got down to, wouldn’t you know it, reading.
Started out with Bagchi’s Above Average. I’m not getting anywhere with it and it gives me headache in less than an hour every time I take it up, but I’m determined to finish it. I mean I’m the guy who went through one of the Chicken Soup For Teenage Soul books; if I can read that piece of crap, I can surely read about some drummer from IIT.
Soon I found myself reading In Search Of Schrödinger’s Cat. Yes, I haven’t finished it yet, but it’s quantum physics man, you can’t expect me to finish it so easily. But I have to admit that John Gribbin has definitely made it easier and simpler for me.
Around
I started with The Teeth Of The Tiger but was interrupted by Chhotu’s call. Went to pick him up from the bus-stand. Would’ve called up Ashu for a smoke but he was too high on some other “stuff” he had smoked, so I decided not to bother him.
She called. Wants to meet me tomorrow at any cost. Apparently she’s missing me too much. Well so am I.
Dahiya called, he wants me to come to college tomorrow urgently (for the reason’s I won’t divulge).
Well, now I’m in a dilemma. In fact, given the situation, I’m angry. I want to kill myself, really. What should I do?
Hmm…I know what would kill me.
Where’s that Above Average?!
Yes...No...Maybe...!
Heena came with us to our college today.
I’d have loved to tell you who she is, but I’m not really sure how to introduce her. Okay, lemme try.
She’s Appu’s girlfriend. That’s what Appu (my friend and co-carpooler) wants everyone to believe. But when you ask her, she won’t acknowledge it. And you can’t blame Appu for declaring his love, ‘coz she ain’t denying it either.
We all have asked her a number of times that is she or isn’t she his girlfriend. And her answer is always plain silence.
Today too, on our way back home, I and Chhotu were pestering her for a definite answer (‘Haan ke Na?’ we went on and on, repeating that famous Omkara dialogue).
As I expected, she didn’t relent.
This reminded me of this peculiar, extremely annoying and, of course, frustrating habit of girls.
When you ask ‘em about love, they never say yes, but take care not to say no either (don’t know about you but it has happened to me a lot!).
They’ll always throw some pretty incomprehensible crap in your face, and before you can work out whether it’s a yes or no, they’d hit you with a “You are chooooo chweeeeeett…”, and BAM!
You’ll be standing on your head ready to do anything for them without questioning them any further (for the time being at least).
If that doesn’t work (or they can’t use it, like Heena couldn’t with us), then they can always switch to the silent mode, which is a pretty safe zone for them ‘coz you can’t possibly make them speak.
But if you’re able to avoid getting hit by these 2 weapons (in which case you’re, believe you me, greatest man ever to walk on earth!), then there is always that ultimate weapon of ‘em all, the equivalent of The Brahamastra when it comes to the war between man and woman.
They start crying.
And you know what, even God concedes defeat then!
Taxi Driver
Travis Bickle is a lonely man.
I, too, am a lonely man.
Travis Bickle roams about the streets aimlessly (in a taxi).
I, too, roam about the streets aimlessly (on my feet).
Travis Bickle is hopelessly in love (with Betsy).
I, too, am hopelessly in love (with whom, I’m not really sure).
Travis Bickle is an incurable insomniac.
I, too, am an incurable insomniac.
Travis Bickle loves to write.
I, too, love to write.
Travis Bickle works out (50 pushups, 50 pull-ups, as he puts it).
I, too, work out (much more than him, though).
Travis Bickle is extremely pissed about the way the life goes (the abuse, the system).
I, too, am extremely pissed about the way the life goes (the abuse, the system).
Travis Bickle is enraged and wants to do something about it.
I, too, am enraged and want to do something about it.
Travis Bickle goes on to fight for what he wants, doin’ everything he can (putting his life on line).
I.
I?
I bury my face into the pillow, too ashamed of myself.
I feel like crying…
P.S. This fuckin’ internet connection is still not working!
Can't get - any sleep or online!
I sat for my mid-semester exams of Distributed Operating Systems and Unified Modeling Language (or some crap like that) today.
The problem is that students like me can’t really complain about being too mentally exhausted after any exam. We don’t put efforts in studying; we don’t really know what to write down on the answer-sheets, so innocently handed out to us by the invigilators. Exams are actually a leisurely pursuit for us.
So, I returned home early after taking (if you may call it that) those tests.
Now, once again I was confronted by that same question that I face everyday:
How do I pass my time?
I could study for my next test (which is on the day after tomorrow) but then who would I be kidding.
I could pop-in one of those anti-insomnia pills that I took yesterday and go to sleep, but I have been told that takin’ such drugs without prescription can be extremely dangerous. Plus, I’m still not over the dream I had yesterday, I don’t want a repeat telecast!
Obviously enough, books came to my rescue again.
I read two more short stories by Jeffery Archer (this guy is one heck of a writer), then I switched to Above Average (well Bagchi manages to bore the hell outta me, but tiny doses of sex in between keeps me goin’).
Around 11, it becomes unbearable (why is Bagchi bent on telling me how various colonies of
Sleep still eludes me.
Now I’m sitting on this computer and this internet connection isn’t working.
I’m really pissed.
Reasons?
I can’t sleep.
I can’t post on my blog.
And I can’t even download porn to pass my time.
I think I should look for Ulysses.
It never fails to put me to sleep.
Requiem for a dream
I knock the door of her apartment (that’s weird, I could’ve rung the bell, why didn’t I?).
Anyway, she opens up. Luckily enough, her roommate isn’t home today. I can’t believe my fortune.
‘Come on in tiger, I’ve got a surprise for you.’ she says. I can’t help but notice her tone, which is kinda sluttish today. She, herself, seems a bit different, kinda weird. I mean, when did she start callin’ me tiger? Seriously, tiger?!
Well, I follow her to her room. I find her lying on her bed, naked. Man that was fast, she went out of my sight for like 2 seconds. How did she get out of her clothes so fast?
But how can I think about that now?
Just go for it, dude!, I tell myself.
I’m all over her now, kissing her, feeling up her silky-soft skin, lost in her eyes. And that aroma? It’s makin’ my head spin.
Suddenly, the door breaks down and Sakshi comes in.
‘What the hell is all this? I thought you said you like me.’ Sakshi is yelling now.
I look at her, dumbfounded. I mean what the fuck’s going on?
How can Sakshi come here? How does she know where she lives?
And what’s this ‘you like me’ stuff? I mean, yes, I like her (every living organism does!), but we don’t even talk to each other. Then why is she so upset about me and my girlfriend?
And the biggest question of ‘em all, how the fuck did she break the fuckin’ door down?!?!
And…how did I come here? What time is it? When did I get here? And why’s everything so misty and foggy?
So many questions are popping up in my head right now that I’m feeling dizzy. I think I’ll throw up. I can’t breathe.
I get up with a start. I’m breathing heavily, my heart’s pounding. Man I’m sweating.
Well, at least that was a dream…
P.S. These pills to cure insomnia do work I guess. You see, I could never imagine myself sleeping like that at
As far as this weird (and, in part, scary) dream is concerned, I think that’s the result of such a long abstinence from sex (forced abstinence, of course!).
The "Yes-Smoking Zone"!
Why is everyone hell-bent on stopping us from smoking, I simply don’t understand. As an individual, am I not supposed to have a right to choose what I want to do in my life?
Lemme put it this way:
I smoke.
I know it’s harmful for me.
I don’t urge anybody else to smoke (though I don’t stop ‘em either).
I don’t smoke around anyone who’s a non-smoker and has a problem with the smoke.
So now say, am I doin’ anything wrong?
I don’t think so. For all I know (and technically speaking), like any antismoking lobbyist, I’m a human being completely aware of the ill-effects of smoking and totally in support of prevention of passive-smoking. And you know what; I don’t promote this habit either.
I don’t see where I am going wrong.
It’s not my fault that I love cigarettes, and even though I know it might kill me, I choose to live with it.
It’s just my life, just the way I am.
And thus, just like I don’t force an obese person to go on a diet or a teenager not to indulge in premarital sex, nobody should tell me what to do with my lungs.
Mark Twain summed it up very well in one of his letters to Joseph Twichell:
...when they used to tell me I would shorten my life ten years by smoking, they little knew the devotee they were wasting their puerile word upon -- they little knew how trivial and valueless I would regard a decade that had no smoking in it!
And Matthew Perry (as
You look happy and sick; you smoked!
Me?
Well I always defend myself as follows:
I don’t smoke.
It’s the cigarette that smokes.
I suck!!
Screaming Silence
Years Ago
There was a boy, let’s call him A.
A was a keen learner, always wanting to know about new things. It was kinda impossible for a single thing to hold his attention for too long. He did a job well while it lasted but soon moved on to newer, not necessarily better, things.
A always felt that life was short so he must squeeze in as much as he possibly could.
He had a sketch book, he drew very well. Mostly, he copied different paintings, cartoons etcetera from books, comics and magazines. People used to say that for a boy that young, A was a brilliant artist. He also played chess, and he was good at that too. Sometimes he thought that he’d play chess his whole life.
He used to write too.
His stories were loved by his friends and teachers alike.
His poems got him girls like anything.
‘Poems are tough to read. Only if you could write songs.’ a girl once said to A.
Next evening A got his first kiss, for singing his first song.
Obviously enough, A was an avid reader. He couldn’t afford to buy books, so he borrowed them from here and there, mostly from the school library. A read like mad, sometimes 6-7 books at a time. In the words of his school librarian (while talking to another school teacher about A)
‘A is a very intelligent boy. He has read almost all the books from our fiction section. And now I hear that he’s quite good at his academics too. I wonder how he finds so much time!’
Time. Time wasn’t an issue. He could work 24 hours a day if need be. The fact that he was insomniac, only helped. All A wanted was to explore different things in life. Learn about the world. Gather knowledge by experience.
He just didn’t want to get stuck.
A wanted to be free!
But then, he hadn’t heard about the thing they called ‘rat-race’.
Unknowingly, A was forced to become a part of it.
His life was never the same, it was ruined forever.
He got, what people made him believe, “educated”.
Present Day
A is having coffee.
These days somehow he constantly remains in the state of boredom. He doesn’t like anything he does. He keeps cribbing about the way his life is going but never ever tries to change it.
A is stuck, doin’ things he doesn’t even know why he’s doin’.
He misses being the A who was once happy.
Such is the effect of “education”.
Only if he had listened to his heart instead of others.
A is typing away on his computer writing his today’s post for his blog.
An evening on terrace.
Got home pretty early today. Out of boredom, went to sit on terrace.
I had quite a good view of our mohalla (locality) from there. Obviously, my primary motive was to check out gals in my neighborhood, but I realized pretty soon that, even after so many years, my mohalla remains as lukkha as ever (in my childhood days it was always a gang of boys playing in the park, now I understand why).
During the hour I stood there, 5 females passed by.
One was a middle-aged aunty-type on her evening walk I guess.
Then there were two constantly giggling one’s, both of whom could hardly be described as females, you see, hormonal jokes can be cruel.
Then there was a cow (c’mon, it’s the matter of my locality’s pride, I have to increase the count).
And finally (and thank god!) there was this gorgeous girl on Activa with equally gorgeous hair flowing behind her, the only problem being that she was driving at supersonic speed, as if police was chasing her (maybe it really was, she’d stolen my heart after all), so I couldn’t savor her for too long.
Well, come to think of it, 1/5 is not such a bad score after all.
And with image of her face (and lovely hair) still afresh in my memory, I don’t really care!
Inebriated
Holi, 2008
Played Holi with friends.
Danced through the afternoon.
Drank 3 bottles of
Got drunk on ‘em.
Passed out on my bathroom floor.
All I could see was the ceiling, goin’ round and round.
…
…
…
Holi, 2009
Played Holi with friends.
Indulged in bakchodi through the afternoon.
Held her, touched her, colored her, felt her.
Got drunk on her.
Passed out on my bathroom floor.
All I could see was a dream, only she and I.
