Regular Doses

My birthday!!

2012-02-15T12:01:00.000-08:00

15 Feb 2012 will be a memorable day in the life of Mr. ABD. It was a day full of happening things and cool stuff. The day was LEGEN.... wait for it...

The day started at 12 midnight with me getting my arse kicked and handed to me... big time...

I get nightmares just by thinking about the kicks I received.

In the night we danced like crazy at my room. Till like 4 am! We played cards later on.

It was a crazy crazy dance routine.

In the morning, I woke up at 8 and went to college. Sleep deprived, I came back at 9:30 while visiting the temple. Then slept till 12 noon. After that, went for attendance to college. Was still hungover from the night.

In the second half, I and Abhishek were sent to invigilate the Oral Surgery, second internal exam. Tried my best to help the juniors... reminiscing my own days. In the evening, had a chat with Dr. Shivaprasad where he made us all smile with his witty remarks.

Later in the night, went for a dinner treat at Sai International Hotel, there I cut the cake again and had loads of fun. :-)

Thus, my 24th birthday went on to become one of the best ones.

Love to all my friends!!

wait for it...

....

...

DARY!!

Girls decoded!

2012-02-12T22:15:00.001-08:00

One of the most written about topics is "fashion". It's about being comfortable in your own skin, being yourself, presenting the best that is within you, being stylish, not following the herd and so on. What I think of fashion is largely insignificant because I am not a style icon admittedly. I am one of those guys you cross off when you start making a list of guys who dress well. I am eliminated in the first round; and to substantiate that, I'd like to admit that I don't have a pair of nice jeans at the moment, I don't wear a belt with my trousers, I wear flip-flops to weekend parties, my socks sometimes smell and my shirt sleeves are not longer than my coat sleeves. So, please read this article at your own risk.

"Fashion is always about who you are!" If I hear that cliche one more time, I swear I'll puke. We are all born insecure, crying, seeking attention. We remain the same whole of our lives; except the crying part is replaced by more refined rituals. Rituals such as dressing up. I like to classify girls into the following categories based on the way they carry forward these rituals:-

Type 1- I hate all things pink.
These are tomboys with a confused sense of identity. Growing up with three-four brothers and no sister makes these girls' view toward "all things pink" a bit derogatory. Can be seen sporting large tractor tyres for ear-rings. Use a pair of tweezers carefully to explore the scalp under the dry strands of hair; you might break the eggs sparrows laid there. A nose ring can sometimes be seen, which is the only way to shout out "I am a girl, Goddamnit!" to her secret crush. Ask her to differentiate between mascara, eye-liner, eye-shadow, kohl and kajal and watch as her brain short-circuits.

Type 2- I am cute and I know it.
She has annoying "Hello Kitty" stickers on everything she owns. Carries a pink phone, a pink laptop; uses phrases like "ohmyGod!", "like I care" etc. Crosses her legs even before her bum touches the bench. You click a photo of her yawning, making a face or accidentally blinking and she'll pounce on you like a kitten screaming "delete it, delete it, delete it... or our friendship is over!" May annoy with their continuous self-indulgence. They follow up your serious talk with "Do you like my new nail-paint? Should I go with maroon or red? Forget it! I'll go with maroon!" One tip- Never go shopping with type 2. You'll die.

Type 3- I am not cute but I don't know it.
Type 3 is actually pseudo-type 2. Can be seen wearing sleeveless tops with their hairy armpits on display. She smells like a perfume shop exploded. You praise her because you respect all the effort she puts in to look good. Her facebook profile is full of mug shots, pouts and weird socially unacceptable expressions and gestures. Scratch the surface and you might find that she has wisdom, sense of humour and all things nice. Wish she wasn't trying so hard.

Type 4- The Princesses
You can also call them the "I am not cute and I know it" girls. Now these are my favourite ones. These are what I call the real fashionistas. They hide their oversize waists with intelligently placed hemlines. They mix and block colours like a pro. They know how the way they wrap a scarf can change the way they look. You can call them fat and not expect a shriek that blows away ships at the dock.

Type 5- The real tomboys.
They are the ones with serious masculine traits. They are not afraid to burp and fart in public. They sport a disturbing amount of facial hair. Sooner or later they transform to either type 4 or type 3.

Type 6- The world isn't so fair
Here we have the dual personalities. These are the ones with really cute profiles as kids but as they grew up, they disappointed everyone. Pimples, skin allergies, bone growth pattern- whatever it was, it made them cranky. Now their feelings and plunging necklines are on display. They have good and bad fashion days. Make almost intelligible remarks that sometimes you almost believe them until they wear an outrageous and disgusting dress and say mean things about a poor little girl sitting in the corner.

Type 7- The average ones
You never notice them until they drape a saree in someone's wedding. Behind those nerdy glasses and loose T-shirts is a princess who suffers with low self esteem. They make great listeners and friends. They are invisible most of the time. Hiding behind hooded sweatshirts, boring pony-tails and two-tone colour combinations with the two colours being gray and navy blue.

So here's how I know girls. Let me know if you know any more types and Let the good times roll!

Let The Good Times Roll! (Hedonism)

2012-02-06T11:12:00.000-08:00

I saw a kid, sitting on a bench in a park,

wondering if he could stay till it got dark.

Mom and dad would be fighting again,

shouting, yelling, snarling, like dogs bark.

I saw a ninja- without his sword,

sitting all lifeless, sad and bored.

The job didn't pay, he had to quit,

"Will work for money" read his signboard.

I saw a tree- one of its branches cut,

it held to its own, quite unfazed but,

its leaves cried for the dearth of water,
hope left the tree, all doors were shut.

I saw a friend who had a rough day,
his gait all gloomy, hair all grey,
eyes so sad, his smile went amiss,
like a pin in a stack of hay.

Something was common among these all,
they all stuck with their assigned role.
The path to success has a big loophole,
the body knows where to go, but not the soul.
The soul is like a fish, stuck in a fishbowl,
Feeling what it feels, not doing what it's told.
It's a path of thorns, not paved with gold,
When you set aside the task of being as a whole,
you find that your being has a big deep hole,
just like a car's a car, no matter diesel or petrol,
the good times won't come to you, unless
you let the good times roll!

The Great Indian Sense Of Humour!

2012-02-01T02:33:00.000-08:00

In India, the elder or the more powerful you are, the funnier are your jokes. "Haven't seen you around for quite a while, buddy?" one asks and gets a "hehehehe... you're the one not providing a single glimpse to us mere mortals, sir... hehehe". There is a certain cockiness in the Indian modesty. It is, I dare say, not modesty at all. When complimented on how well we are doing, it seems that we can't take it. The immense pressure to smile in gratitude and thank The Almighty and simultaneously agree with the compliment, all we can let out is a simper and a grin. The cliched words that are said in the reply do not even make any sense- "It's all your mercy, sir.", "God is great, sir" or a simple "Hehehehe ... bas... saab hai.. (It is what it is).

It's so hard to decipher the sense of humour of an individual while it's mighty easy to make a crowd laugh. You sit with someone new, you say something funny and if it doesn't strike a cord, all you'll get is a blank stare. Not even a "confused" or "repulsed" look, just a cold blank stare and you dare not repeat the joke, because anyone has the right to disrespect anyone in this democratic country. While when in a group of 3 or 4, just make a funny face while saying the most mundane things and they'll laugh. All they need is one smile and it multiplies until no one knows why are smiling! The wise ones always find and keep a "smiler" with them when they begin a group conversation. This is mostly the person who is the most needy, sometimes it's just the dumb one.

We Indians, say the most rude things while laughing and strangely no one takes offense. In a nation of mc-bc, we are brought up to be rude to strangers. Well behaved people who respect the queue discipline stay in the queue while the "Hatt bhencho!" ones reach the top of the ladder as the crowd cheers them. We easily imagine that the father is stronger, wiser and more able than the son in every regard and when a son is trying to do something which breaches the norm that we have laid down for him, we ask him- "Tere baap ne kiya hai kabhi?/ yeh toh tera baap bhi nahi kar sakta!/ Iss kaam mein tera baap hoon main!" etc etc. (Has your father ever done this?)! So, when we refer to someone's father, we actually mean someone better. We don't mean to offend, yaar!And it's funny to be rude!

Also, you're not supposed to take offense when someone comments on the way you look. See, we are a country of a gazillion people so, it helps to classify and categorize people. All the north-eastern states, Chinese, Japanese, Nepalese, Thais, basically all the folks with slant eyes are chinki chowmeens! All the south- Indians are Madrasis. All the spectacled nerdy ones are "chashmuddin- bajaye been"s. All the dark ones are kallus, all the fat ones are motus.... and so on! It's funny to us.

Here's a list of a few things that are funny to us-
1. Two people fighting on the street. (Don't you dare separate them! Bring the popcorns!!)

2. Farts! (C'mon! Farts are funny!)

3. Loafers teasing a girl! (I mean those guys are hilarious!)

4. Some dumbass shouting obscene remarks about the actor and the actress in a movie hall! (Who cares for class?)

5. Peeing in public! (I'm sorry, just kidding. Peeing in public is not funny! It's our birthright!)

6. Someone peeing under the signboard "Dekho kutta moot raha hai" (Look! The dog is peeing) (Funny 'cause the person who put up the signboard thought that it'd affect our peeing-ability!)

There are more but I think I should stop! I need to go pee on a wall!

First Date

2011-12-20T01:52:00.001-08:00

It's said often,
and isn't so wrong.
First impressions,
do last long.
Should I buy balloons,
or sing her a song?
Shave that beard,
or grow it long?
Puzzled, baffled,
Been thinking all along.

Pretend a little,
or keep it simple?
Keep asking questions,
or compliment her dimple?

'tis difficult for me,
I am breaking a sweat.
And that too when,
we haven't even met.

Does she like chivalry?
should I pull her the chair.
Or should I treat her as equal,
and leave it there?

Should I flirt with her,
let her know my plan?
Or be like a friend?
more of a gentleman.

The way I am fussing,
is she tense too?
Am I the guy,
she is trying to woo?

I met her in a bus,
she was running late.
Was this meeting of chance,
our collective fate?

Overdressed, underdressed,
what is the middle path?
Thinking of what to wear,
I spent hours in the bath.

The first glance,
The first talk,
it's things like these.
When I wish,
when I pray,
that this moment could freeze.
She smiled,
came closer,
Oh! the gently flowing breeze.
My heart raced,
My veins froze,
I realised
You can't plan things like these.

The Albatross Story Retold

2011-12-20T01:34:00.000-08:00

A wedding invitation,
a winter wedding.
all excited, to which
I was heading.

An old sailor,
a grumpy old man.
Held my hand,
like an insane.

I said "let go",
sir, I am in a hurry.
The naan will be over,
along with the curry.

He was firm, said
he had a story to tell.
"Sir leave me alone,
please go to hell."

He insisted,
with a knife in his hand.
I immediately agreed,
'twas a magic wand.

"Once upon a time,
I set sail in a ship,
It was a time,
when I was young and hip"

"We went in the ocean,
to the north pole.
It was a time,
before the ozone hole.

An albatross flew,
leading our way,
cutting across winds,
and clouds so grey.

It flew tirelessly,
was a good luck charm.
Until one day,
along came a storm."

The story of this sailor,
bored me to hell.
But he was a lunatic,
so, oh well!

"The albatross was tired,
it had no where to go.
It landed on the deck,
in real slow-mo.

Storm went away,
the albatross won.
The sailors were happy,
the party was on!

We came back alive,
the albatross flew.
With the joy and cheer,
and the happiness new.

But little did we know,
that wicked albatross.
It came with me,
chasing all across.

It wanted a gift,
or something in return.
For the favors it did,
it wanted to earn.

Now it hangs around
the neckline of mine.
I won't call it albatross,
for it really is a swine!!"

"Sir", I said, "the feast is over,
and so is the toast.
Let's take that albatross,
And put it to roast."

Ram Kahani

2011-11-20T22:44:00.000-08:00

“Whoa! Wait, I wasn’t ready!” was the shriek that almost coincided with the sound of stumps hitting the ground as the bowler hit the bull’s eye and all his teammates huddled up ignoring the batsman’s appeal. Stomping his feet, he dragged himself out of the ground. Ram or “Ramu” as he was fondly called, was just like any other normal kid except that ever since his birth, he had felt like some gazillion voodoo artists had been trying to hone their skills on his voodoo doll. A doll with curly hair, chubby little cheeks, spectacles that mellow down the bland psychopath-like features. He had lost all faith in luck. It was like the bull would start rolling his eyes just the moment he’d take aim.

When his family moved to the small town of Chhatarpur from Gwalior, he was happy that at least things will begin afresh and he can start over. His happiness didn’t last any longer than an Indian cricket team supporter when the opposition needs 20 runs from the last over and Ashish Nehra is given the ball. Soon he found out that the peon of the school shared the same name as his, and the Principal used to call out the name instead of hitting the bell- the frequency of which increased drastically when he used to pass by the Principal’s office. Also, “Ram” and “Ramu” as it turns out to be, rhymed with every other word created in the universe. When his parents named him, they thought that the name was universal but, he was sure, they didn’t mean this by universal. During PT classes, the teacher would make them go through the routine “Saavdhan-Vishraam” routine. Ram always wondered why the teacher emphasized so much on the second syllable of “Vishram” and paused for just the time sufficient enough for the girls to turn back, look at him and giggle. He’d grimace, make a face at them and that was just the time when the PT teacher would direct all his attention toward him. Corporal punishment would follow.

He’d be the one getting caught with others’ crib sheets in exams, the one who knew all the answers but couldn’t write much because the invigilator was standing right on his head, looking over his shoulder, reading his answersheet word by word as he wrote the words down. That made Ram pause over every word, wonder about its prehistoric origins, etymology and what-not before jotting it down in order to avoid sounding silly. Let’s just say it was time and marks-consuming process.

As he grew up and entered college, his voodoo doll also grew. His road was somewhere lost in the multitude of blocks that had grown over the years. He had a crush on an average looking lass, knowing that the good-looking ones may be generous enough to spit on his face but, nothing more. So, he tries to find more about his future wife and of course she turns out to be a powerful mafia-cum-businessman-cum-politician’s daughter whose marriage was already fixed with some rich, handsome NRI. This information was enough for him to stop having thoughts remotely close to a happy love life.

The plus side was that he never bought lottery tickets, never wasted his time calling up “Kaun Banega Crorepati” or going to casinos. He’d throw the “Scratch and Win” coupons directly to the dustbin with downright contempt.

One day, on his way to work, 45 years old Ram parked his scooter and went on to cross the road. Breaking the red signal, a lorry seemingly with controls lost, came speeding toward him. He stood between a car carrying a happy family, a few two wheelers with the riders scared to death and a lorry representing the mad bull whose eye he hadn’t been able to hit his whole life. He leaped across toward the emptier side of road, almost certain that the lorry will follow him, leaving behind the innocent traffic and absorbed the massive thud that flung his body in air. He was lent unconscious for less than a second.

As he woke up, to his surprise, he was still in air as he landed on a fluffy object with no trace of pain from the accident he just faced. He rubbed his eyes to find himself on a floating cloud. “Floor 7, please alight”- a mechanical female voice rang in his ears. He carefully stepped down to a red carpet leading him to a reception counter. “Welcome to heaven, sir. We are pleased to have you here. Please enjoy your stay. “ Ramu was part delighted, part angst-ridden- an emotion exclusive to such a situation. “May I talk to the manager here?” he said . “You may, of course.”- said the young lady as she morphed into a bearded old man with shiny white clothes. “Yes, how may I help you, son?” said he. Looking the least bit surprised, Ram started- “I take it that you are God, right?” The elderly gentleman smiled and nodded. Ram went on- “Ah, I knew it; so much for the subtleness, you are such a show off. The white beard doesn’t make you any wiser nor do these cheap magic tricks impress me.” Seeing no change of expression on the gentleman’s face, Ram somewhat frustrated went on- “I have just one question and one question only- what was that? I mean my life. Was it karma, was it… I don’t know… what … was it?” God paused, his face turned grave for a moment and then he smiled again, he asked Ram nonchalantly- “Do you want to repeat this life? I’ll erase all the data from your head, you’ll be born to very rich parents, drive around in an expensive car, will have new, better loyal friends, will live longer and die peacefully. How do you feel about that?” Taken aback, Ram thought for a while and said- “No, I’d rather be with the sweet memories of this life of mine. Now I know what you mean, life is worth living with every pain and every inconvenience that it gives, because it’s a gift and gifts are meant to be cherished. I’ve been through a lot and I’d like to hold on to it.” God smiled, patted his head and vanished to leave behind a beautiful landscape. It was heaven.

“Wait a minute! Did the offer include that I’d actually get to marry the girl of my dreams? Would it be my own parents who’d be richer in the alternate life? Or would they be different parents altogether? Come to think of it, I am ok with the offer! Whoa! Wait, I wasn’t ready!”- Ram ran after the vanishing shadow, gave up the chase after a while, sat on a rock and held his forehead in his palms mumbling to himself- “I am so unlucky!”

The story of a bunny!

2010-04-16T09:17:00.000-07:00

In a jungle, lived a rabbit, a ball of fur with shiny eyes and long fluffy ears. It roamed around with no fear; open in the fields, unprotected. Sheer coincidence and luck got it out of wolves' claws, crocodiles' jaws and all other wicked things.

There was this one time... the rabbit was hopping about the meadows, unafraid, undeterred and perhaps unaware of the predators around. Fearlessness is a strange thing, it might arise either from courage or lack of knowledge but, it sows seeds of fear in the heart of the most powerful adversary. The fear of "why, isn't he afraid"; the unknown.

A fox was peeping through the tall grass, cunning and calculative; evil to the core. It wanted to stick its sharp, pointed canines in the soft, juicy flesh of the rabbit... mmm... but, wait a second, we see another fox; from the opposite end, waiting with identical intentions to pounce on the all unknowing bunny.

Coincidences occur fairly commonly given the odds of their occurrence! Both of the predators happened to jump in the scene at almost exactly the same time. The rabbit, out of the unnatural instinct it had developed, kept on munching on the grass in the fields, undeterred and now, pretending to be unaware. The foxes looked at each other and then at the rabbit and then again at each other. A sudden breeze of hostility blew in the static air.

The cunning that ran in the veins of foxkind forbade any of the two vixens from taking a step forward. Instead, one of them moved one step back smelling a trap. The second one took two steps back smelling something fishy and the next moment, both of the clever foxes disappeared in the bushes.

Ek Ladka Tha: Part 2

2010-04-08T03:21:00.000-07:00

So far we have seen that our lovely little character has been taken out of his comfort zone and has been shown some unforeseen circumstances. Let's see what happens next.

So, the boy was gloating hard on the fact that he had to live the next few years of his life with the goat... suddenly a few identical looking kids of same age as that of the boy entered the scene. Extending their hands of friendship all in one go, said one by one- "Hi, I am Blah-blah, I will play your mother from now on."; "Hi, I am Yakk-yakk, I will play your father from now on."; "Hi, I am yada-yada, I will tell you what to do, I will govern your life from now on."

The boy was so happy; such caring people, he thought he had found a new family. New people to nag him, to control him and people to show directions so that his heart can follow them. What luck!

So, greeting were exchanged, everybody was made comfortable or made to feel comfortable or whatever. That night, the boy proposed, "let's walk the goat around the hillside" and "blah-blah" nearly jumped out of his pants! "WAlK!? What did you... I am sorry... walk the goat? You want to walk the goat? No way! You are not doing it. I am telling you... don't do it. It's not allowed."

"By whom?" the boy asked started.

"Um.... By me."

"But why?"

"Umm.... yea, good question, never thought about it, but whatever, we are not going anywhere."

Next day, the boy was roaming around the lake and he saw the boat float and his heart began to bloat! He asked "Yada-yada"- Hey! Why don't we go boating? And "Yada-yada" after a long cinematic pause replied-

"No"

"Wha... but why?"

Yada-yada turned back, fixed her gaze on the boat, took a deep sigh, took another pause and thought for a while and said- "No"

The boy looked at yada yada, then turned to blah blah who also was looking his philosophical best. The boy turned to yak yak and said, "I don't think I can be friends with you guys anymore, you people choke me." Yak-yakk started weeping like a hyena. She was a petite little girl with monstrously cute eyes. The boy felt guilty. He realised that he should not have said this. He asked very softly, looking in the eyes of yakk-yakk what could he do to make up for what he just said and did.

Yakk-yakk said, "don't breathe, stop breathing and please die." There was a sincere, heartfelt appeal in those eyes, it was a promise of a loving future, it was a music of the soul, it was a.... "Oh cut the crap!!"

P.S. I wanted to write more here but, the character named "The Boy" just broke free from my writing and went away... I don't know where. Please, if you find him, let him know that blah-blah, yak-yak and yada-yada are looking for him and they miss him like HELL.

Ek Ladka Tha Diwana Sa (One Boy was there, Mad types)

2010-02-18T22:05:00.000-08:00

Haylo!!

Today we will tell you a story about a boy... a boy different from others. Long ago in the deep valleys of Himalaya lived a family. Their home was a tiny shack which wasn't visible until you waded through a thick forest of pine and supine trees, across the river, over the bridge, under the canopies, dark green....

In the family, there was a Daddy who worked till late in the evening and came back everyday with absolutely nothing! God knows what he used to do. There was a mommy who was always busy in the kitchen, making noises with the utensils, pretending to work without doing anything other than avoiding to spend time with the boy!

This was the boy's world. He had a fixed routine. Go playing outside but not across the bridge, go near the river but don't put your feet in the water, go do something but, don't touch anything. It was the life he knew.

People used to like him for his obedience, he never crossed the bridge; neither his Dad ever talk anything about crossing the bridge. It was an unsaid rule. He never played in water; neither did his mum tell him to fetch a pale of water; not even any discussions about Jack and Jill going up the hill, no nothing.

It was a small sweet world till they had to send the boy to the other side of the hill for further studies. The other side of the hill was unknown, there were no bridges or rivers; but there was a lake and a boat, there was a cow and a goat. He hadn't seen all this ever. Being so imaginative, he had imagined all these things and luckily things were exactly the same as he had daydreamed. The boat could float and the goat could gloat.

(To be continued)

Valentine's Day Special

2010-02-08T05:22:00.000-08:00

Well, well, well.... Valentine's day is here. Time for the preparations! It's the perfect time for spreading love and fraandship! Just a week before the actual day, the brigade starts celebrating 'rose day', 'propose day', 'chocos day' and what not! Love just happens on the fourteenth day of February. High chances are that it will happen to you if you are jobless, are bunking classes and have been ogling at a cute 'ladies' ever since you family disowned you.

Valentine's day means a lot to those who are actually in love and it's a special occasion to let your other half know that you couldn't imagine life without their support and love. But, it means a hell lot more to those who haven't found love. It's about the hunt! It's about the famously frustrated females and males who are dying without a jee-eff and bee-eff!

It's not like I am a hypocrite or something who thinks 'making frandsip' is so uncool. On the contrary, I was actually almost one of them some time ago, so, I know the inside story. Now. don't you want a scoooop, dah-ling?

Ok, I'll narrate it in the form of a story, a surprisingly short one-

There was a guy and there was a girl. The girl was charming and sweet (and yea, she was awfully fair and couldn't inhale oxygen without the aid of maskara and lip gloss!) There is nothing wrong with being fair but being told "Oh you are so fair, I envy you" over and over again makes you think like you worked hard for this complexion... or like when God was handing out complexions, you murdered two people and severely injured three others to attain this complexion. Now that's bad.

The guy was nice, he oiled his hair daily, spent a considerable amount of time in front of the mirror to get his smile right. Ah! The joy of a perfect *clink* smile! The guy had frands, and his frands had girl frands. The girl also had frands, and they had boi frands. Love was in the air. For the boy it was somewhere in his hair.

The boy used to look at the girl from the corner of the cornermost corner of the city. The girl used to 'notice' him. When the girl used to walk, the boy used to chase her. It was so sweet.

One day the guy got the girl's number and he called her. She picked up the phone and the guy said "I love you"!

There! Right there! Cupid strikes!

The girl blushes but she has to be decent, right? She asks "How come? I don't even know you." The guy says, "I don't know, ever since I have seen you.... *blah blah blah* *Sorry to all the readers, I actually slept through their conversation so, can't report it word to word*

But, the gist is- The girl doesn't trust the guy so, she lets the guy clarify his feelings over a cup of coffee.

The next day, the girl and boy are having coffee together and are munching on sumptuous lumps of "LOVE"

YUM YUM!!

I believe in love now.... no, really! Truly, I do!

Even more power

2010-01-11T05:17:00.000-08:00

So, as and where we left the story, the autorickshaw was turning to be a menace for humanity. It had given a whole new meaning to the term "illegal human trafficking". As things were getting dark and gloomy and hope was fainting by the day, a superhero rose from the dust. It jumped straight in the middle of the road and startled the unsuspecting auto-rickshaw with its grit and will. It had the super power of turning blind to the traffic and deaf to the honking horns. It could ignore three vehicles at a time and could lead to a super havoc. Auto-rickshaw lost its temper, did a 360 degree flip, cut across the traffic and crooned in its feminine voice. But, our hero was unperturbed, it kept an innocent face, pretended to be looking around but, his actions didn't match the gestures. It confused the hell out of the aggressive rickshaw and it swerved across the street and rammed into a tree!!

A suave, female, intelligent-looking journalist was thankfully around to acknowledge our hero's heroics. She gave him the name- "THE ROAD CROSSER!"

More power

2009-12-10T06:21:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, there was a city. Like any other city, rife with crime, tall buildings, similar looking crowd, identical streets and a rich heritage. Just the kind that would need a superhero. A growing population, rapid urbanization had forced a section of the population to resort to socially unacceptable means of income exempli gratia robbery, forgery, burglary and other similar acts. Most of the eminent scientist folk had gone bonkers and were cooking up evil plans of world domination, the billionaires wanted to buy the city so that they could carry out mass demolition for entertainment, people in boring professions like teaching, tailoring and white collar stuff had taken up the hobbies like asking wierd riddles and sticking axes in peoples' skulls etc. But, the biggest menace that was raising head was the evil monster called "Auto rickshaw". It could throw traffic into complete chaos in a single blink. It cut across busy streets, sowing fear in the hearts of school-going children, law-abiding citizens and old ladies crossing streets with their wobbly feet and meek hearts.

It would jump straight in your face, from the least expected nooks and crannies. It could turn around 180 degrees standing at its place. It would brush past you, rubbing your shoulder and depositing fear in your veins.

The crowd was scared... they needed someone to stand up for them... as the auto rickshaw crooned in a scary tune, sitting, smiling, ready to pounce.

Change is good!

2009-12-03T21:12:00.000-08:00

As we live, we build walls, walls around us to secure us. Imagine the room in which you are sitting, what if it had no roof? It would be scary.... it walls were not there... wouldn't it be? It would be rough, it would be insecure and it would keep you on your toes, not able to concentrate on reading this blog entry of mine. These walls bring comfort. Limiting yourself, looking through the small keyholes of prejudice before letting anyone in... it makes you safe. When you do something that you normally don't do makes your day memorable! It is like the day when you chose to open the window only to shut it before too much of wind ruffled your papers of security.

When I talk of change, I am not talking about doing drastically eccentric stuff, I am talking about going with the flow and it's not like I am pointing fingers. This entry is actually a self evaluation. I want myself to extend my horizons, take chances, explore the possibilities and crap like that.

Sometimes, people or the circumstances push me to change my routine, and sometimes the motivation comes from within but, there is always this overriding feeling of fear. The fear of the unknown. My experience says that talking to oneself is the best remedy to clear out this fear. I can talk myself through things.

When my school finished, an insecurity crept in. How would life be now? New friends, new life? A search for a new identity. Life pushed me to deep waters and I learned to swim.

When I go to a new department after finishing one posting in college, I slowly grow an attachment to it.

Most new things we fear are the things with those we later fall in love. There is nothing in this world which doesn't take getting used to; there is nothing more taxing than the process of getting used to a new life; and what is life which is not a bit taxing and testing? It's a new life everyday with new people, old wisdom and new mistakes.

--A sunny positive Abhyudaya!

Humans to humans

2009-12-01T04:24:00.000-08:00

We all were born, and in a well-planned manner, we were each given our very own, personal, distinct lives. Then, came the crossroads, and our paths crossed. Very selectively, we stumble upon and like people that we should like. Internet, public gatherings, social interactions direct us in a well orchestrated manner to meet the people and interact with them. Isn’t it some plan? Isn’t it fascinating?

No, it isn’t. There is nothing that is “meant to be” in my view and I am not trying to be impressive here. I think we don’t just stumble upon people, we guide ourselves, direct ourselves to sieve through the crowd we meet and reach the people we “want” to reach. Within us, there is a planner. We plan to meet people of a certain type, those who don’t fit in, fade away in the background and those who do, stay and stick around.

I don’t think…. Love or friendship therefore, might happen by chance. It’s pure choice. It’s your choice.

And it’s funnier after the first few days when the choices are made. After a bond is established, the intriguing factors in the relation such as “who will dominate whom”, “what sort of humour will ensue in between”, “whose angst would give way to whose preferences” and so on.

It’s not for nothing that I find anthropology interesting.

Friday the 13th

2009-11-13T04:40:00.000-08:00

Ah The ominous date-day combo when something unlucky has to happen. If the whole world is facing the day, the bad luck is uniformly and evenly distributed. Why should one worry then? If I am gonna have a great fall, isn't the person who is laughing at me, stepping on a banana peel simultaneously?

This way of looking at things is very interesting though. One can read his horoscope and live a day before even living it. Prejudice comes easy with superstitions. Thoughts, actions, all of them get affected by thinking in this direction- the grand scheme of things, God's plan, nature's course of action. I would call it micro-time-travel. You live the immediate next moment before even it touches you.

A car is coming to hit you, if you are told that in the grand scheme of things, you are supposed to die today... you won't resist it. If you are told the opposite, you will drag yourself out of the deepest mud to make it come true. Knowing what someone would think, say or how he or she would react to you, may determine your course of action. It's even worse than not resisting a car accident.

If you think you know someone, you tend to project him into a virtual existence and daydream about his actions and behaviour. It kind of takes away the spice...

Voices in the head

2009-11-10T20:26:00.000-08:00

Watched the movie "London Dreams" recently. The movie adopts a style where one of the characters is also the narrator of the story but, the story he is narrating is just a string of thoughts he underwent during the course of time. It is talking to oneself. Francis Bacon in his essay "Of Friendship" says that we all need friends to talk our hearts out. So that our thoughts are out in the open for dissection and analysis. Self-talk doesn't let you do that fully. It's a way of burrowing aimlessly into a wide open trench.

The other side of the fence isn't so pretty either. The majority of people consider someone talking to them as an opportunity to argue and to prove a point. Conversations should be had for the heck of it. When someone tells you how he or she feels about a particular person, it is not for you to judge their views and tell them what to do. It is more about letting them talk, providing the punctuations in their speech so that they can iron out the wrinkles in their soul.

It actually is easier said than done. It is hard not to advice. It is hard to keep a conversation going without arguments and suggestions. But, it is hard to keep a friendship going with their continual influx.

The role you choose to play

2009-11-04T04:41:00.000-08:00

We often see actors complaining of being typecast as mere "action heroes" or "comic actors." that there is more to there skills than what the public has typecast them into. They would complain just for the sake of complaining to satisfy the inner urge of justice. Justice to the profession, and justice to themselves.

So, in Bollywood, as Sunny Deol continues to play the umpteenth someone in the umpteenth movie who can smash pillars to dust, he wouldn't react well if told that he has failed as an actor. It is what I guess is called "playing oneself."

In life too, we assume roles and accordingly, we play them. If you don't choose a character, your friends will assign you one. The world runs on the fuel of simplification which is used to detangle certain complex situations. Typecasting is one way of achieving this simplification.

If you are an angry young man, you cannot just wake up one day and start cracking hilarious jokes. It is out of your character. These are long-term deals. There is also something I call as "point typecastings"... or more accurately "instantaneous role-assignment."

If you are sitting with a group and among them, someone calls you a shy kid, you will, to a certain degree, oblige the comment with your acts even if you are one of the most chirpy kinds. This act of obliging is not voluntary. It just happens. This psychological tool is often used with hard to control, unruly children. Saying that, they are "good boys" or "good girls"... gives them an opportunity to change their image in front of the audience. It is another matter that kids have long deciphered this code language and have stopped obliging the orator and audience.

It is a nice thing, in my view, however, to understand this setting. If you know what is where on a stage, you can perform better, you can play more diverse characters, win more accolades. Likewise, in life, if you know which character to play, how to have a control over your character, and when to stop... you can win.

The last three words taken without permission from Mr. Shiv Khera.

Children...

2009-10-31T05:28:00.000-07:00

Posted in pediatric dentistry these days, children are the most lovable creatures. They are the hope that if we start from this, how bad can we get? Innocent, giggling, smiling, scared.... all very basic emotions required to spread harmony and establish an evil-fearing society.

My last patient was a chatterbox. She wouldn't just stop talking unless I put my scalers or micromotor in her mouth. She tells me her mother is also the same. Well, she just lightened up my spirit... so, I don't know about those who have to hear her out daily but, she was a delight to me.

All kinds of personalities can be seen shaping up in childhood. Some will look at you in the eyes and put their demands forward, some would be tentatively bossy. The one I grew the most sympathy toward were the shy, unnoticeable types. They would be smarter than what they are made out to be but, are labeled as "dumb" by their friends. Once you get them into talking, you can really know, whether they are the silent genius type, the selfish cunning type or maybe sometimes what their friends think is right.

God bless them all.

The situation

2009-10-12T04:52:00.002-07:00

It was getting late in the afternoon, slumber was creeping in the shadows of hardworking doctors, nurses and interns in the clinic. The day had been a long one for the department of oral and maxillofacial surgery in the government college of dentistry. Just ten minutes were left before the counter could comfortably close and the health workers could comfortably return to the remaining half of their routine lives.

At that point, an elderly female walked into the clinic. Avoiding eye contact was the first reflex of the interns as no one wanted to undertake a last minute case. Dr. Rohan who tried his best to hide from the duty was assigned the case by the professor who nonchalantly walked out of the clinic in holiday mood. In no mood to attend the patient, the intern dragged his feet to the patient's chair and inquired about the ailment. The patient gave the generic history he had given earlier to the other dentists he had seen.

The internee listened carefully not the patient's story, but the sound of his friends and colleagues packing up to leave the clinic. They were all excited as it was the much awaited weekend of diwali and everyone had plans of his own. Listening to the sound, Rohan asked the patient to remain calm as he administered local anaesthesia. His practice-perfect hands took out the teeth one by one as instructed in the case sheet. The patient was very co-operative.

The nurse took away the instrument plate from the chair and soon after, the patient and the doctor were the only ones left in the clinic. It was closing time, so the patient, after being instructed about what to do and what not to do, was about to leave. "Here is your case-sheet, Gopalanna", the dentist extended a leaflet to the patient reading his name from the sheet. The patient frowned and detested something. It was beyond the comprehension of the preoccupied intern. He questioningly, raised his eyebrows. "I am Ramanna" was the patient's innocent reply.

Rohan again looked at the case sheet, and saw his table. Another sheet of paper was lying there as innocently as possible for a case sheet. Rohan checked and cross checked. He had extracted the wrong teeth. The sweat drops on his forehead were enough to explain the matters to Gopalanna.

Gopalanna was furious. He was shouting his lungs out at a mummified Rohan who didn't know whether to die trying to say something or just jump off from the window. He was just an intern. His seniors would murder him for this. They would kill him! An image of professor Gowda suspending him from the department and blackening his, until now, clean sheet loomed into his mind. His knee jerk reflex was to beg the patient not to raise his voice. He promised to get the thing fixed. He also offered monetary compensations and finally Gopalanna melted. He settled with a prosthetic rehabilitation completely sponsored by Rohan and a compensation of Rs. 5, 000 for just keeping mum.

As the havoc was avoided, Rohan, with a heavy heart moved out of the hospital. The patient walked away with a straight face and a distant philosophical look in his eyes. The next morning, he was standing outside the conservative and endodontics clinics of the same hospital with two case-sheets in his hand- one labeled Ramanna and the other Gopalanna.

Lost interest

2009-10-12T04:52:00.001-07:00

Ok... I think the story had taken a lame turn of no return. My apologies.

Windy day (continued)

2009-10-04T20:45:00.000-07:00

Suddenly, she realized that the sound of her footwear striking the mud was not alone in stirring the otherwise lone street. She, froze, not out of fear but out of curiosity... to see who was following. As she turned back, she saw nothing. Her eyes searched the crossroads to ascertain the finding. After giving it little thought, she carried on with her puddle hopping spree. A moment later, she again heard splashes of water of the exact same frequency behind her. It was spooky this time. She wanted to turn back and check but, from within, she didn't really. It was a sunny day, and those sort of things happen in the middle of the night, in complete dark and all that. But, this wasn't a lonely street, the traffic did resume in the form of one or two bicycles which were chased down to the limit of human eyesight of the topography of the street by the vacuum which had started to haunt little Mary.

She really wished it was something funny. Some law of physics or some error of hearing but, currently it was the biology of human brain that was driving her nuts. She...

To be continued

Windy Day

2009-10-03T02:50:00.000-07:00

Fiction

It was a cold, windy afternoon. It had just rained and pools of mud had been created to acknowledge the attempts of rain Gods to derail the normalcy flowing through the veins of the city. Mary, a young, dreamy girl just about the age when you are bordering between gullible and worldly mature was taking a walk. She hated the rains. She couldn't handle the tackiness but, was to outdoorsy to just sit at home. Anyway, it had tested her patience to an extent. She had postponed her short walks till today. It had not stopped raining until now since last friday and today was wednesday.

Coming back to the walk, she was hopping across puddles with a smile on her face. Apparently the joy of coming out had overridden the tackiness of mud.

Suddenly...

Fickleness

2009-09-22T06:44:00.000-07:00

Fickle
marked by erratic changeableness in affections or attachments; "fickle friends"; "a flirt's volatile affections"

Fickleness
faithlessness: unfaithfulness by virtue of being unreliable or treacherous

There is more than one way of being and acting fickle. You may not call yourself fickle but others would might not concur. It is not as subjective either. There are mores, morality and very objective questions. I wouldn't want to be called fickle but, I do agree that there are standards of conduct that keep fluctuating in my head. I would behave in a certain way at a particular point of time which I otherwise wouldn't. I cultivate guilt and feel awkwardness in my throat while trying to swallow my own acts. The throat becomes thornier when I see others easily swallowing the things that are not permissible under my psyche.

Double standards are readily attachable to fickleness. You are so fickle when you do it, but it's ok when I do it. I am an honest hypocrite. Now, what you gonna do?

The batch party

2009-09-13T22:07:00.000-07:00

Ah! Finally a batch party was held for us this weekend. It was as happening as my batch (I hope that's not a rhetoric)!

I was given the sucky job of making sure that the girls reach their hostel safely. Just to make it sound cool... I called myself "The Transporter".

Tired

2009-09-08T06:27:00.000-07:00

Our seniors graduate tomorrow.... was working my ass off to make the event successful. So freaking tired.

Of Being Oneself

2009-08-30T21:57:00.000-07:00

"Just Be Yourself" is the commonest phrase delivered gift-wrapped as advice for free by people to the needful who are too anxious to ask for or pay heed to any sort of advice.

Be yourself, don't stress, just act normal. Isn't the stressed out, abnormal behaviour a part of the person's personality. How can one teach someone to be oneself? No one knows me better than me myself. If I act in a pressure situation in a certain absurd way, am I not being myself?

Or perhaps what they mean is that one should act as one would had there not been any stimulus of pressure or stress situation. But then, isn't that acting abnormally? Acting like everything is fine when it is not?

I think we should abolish the phrase "just be yourself", instead use "just pretend as if nothing happened. Blindfold yourself and jump into the well with a smile." But then it would be a very long phrase for common usage. Anyway, till I get the changes done, you can continue to be yourself.

Fist of Twate.

2009-06-18T03:19:00.000-07:00

What is a twist of fate? What is a swing of mood? Are we as illogical as we think, to believe in such things. Lightening strikes and we are happy again? I have started to believe in this crap, I guess. It just strikes. If you believe in falling in love, you should believe in falling out of it. It's funny. It's a wrestling thing. You lose, you win... but you play.

And just like in cricket or any other sport, there are no set champions. A long reigning champ falls on his face, flat! And an underdog pounces to the spot of a top cat! Well, that's heavy stuff. I am here to talk about me. I have not been feeling quite cheerful of late. I thought of romanticizing my situation, saying I may have lost my smile. Well... ! Turns out, even in my most dull days, a silver lining streaks across the mental clouding every now and then.

No mood is permanent. No matter what the etiology.

What not to do in love- Part 1

2009-03-05T11:48:00.000-08:00

She was his best friend ever since they first talked. They shared and cared just like true friends do, they knew each others' secrets, could talk till the end of the world and basically shared a fairly marvelous relationship. At times she'd ask him, knowing his heart-on-sleeves nature, whether he expected this relationship to transform into "a relationship." He'd outright deny it not to answer her but to avoid the embarrassment of saying "yes." Self respect is a funny thing. It makes you smile on being slapped and snap on being told a joke... it doesn't let you be yourself- your self respect!

Stealing glances is one of the stupid things they used to indulge in. I mean, c'mon, if you wanna stare at someone's face, do it in a way it doesn't look like you're deriving some sick pleasure out of it. Lovers are perverts... not that they were lovers, but... their friendship could have very well lead them to the unsafe waters of ocean called love.

Other stupid things include-- expecting phone calls at 2 am in the night, blaming each other for everything bad that happened to them... and the list goes on.

One day, the guy "decided" that he was in love. Enough is enough!

He went up to the girl, shameless, no blushes... and said he "thought" he was in love with her. She was amused; which was slightly embarrassing to the guy. She didn't like where he was taking their relationship, she knew it wasn't love; for her the guy could be anyone but a lover! A good friend, a special friend, brother... anything! The guy, on the other hand, was trying to get the birdie inside a cage. Cage of love!

He realised it wasn't to be. Thought he should curb these thoughts if he wanted the life to go back on the routine track.... tricky business. The thoughts haunted him day in and day out.... almost one year passed with the ghost of love.

One year later.... she found someone who looked good, smiled a lot and made love seem a little less crime-like. Our loverboy was left grumbling. He too moved on though...

Lesson: Love is not a crime. Don't let your girl feel otherwise. Love is to be proposed, not to be confided!

Story thus far....

2009-03-04T11:40:00.000-08:00

Ok... It's about time the regular doses showed some regularity... As you can guess, there's nothing of much consequence going on in my life... my b'day just passed by, my sweetheart friends got me certain touching presents... and I got at ease with my ahem... ex... *ahem*.... and did a few mischiefs here and there in college.

Anyway, I have a plan of a series .... of blog entries... it's fiction, it's romantic and it's humourous. Don't know how it will go but it is all based on the dictum that one should never take himself so seriously that life starts taking itself seriously. The dictum is mine of course!

See subsequent blog entries for consequences....

Never on a giant wheel again!

2009-01-26T12:39:00.000-08:00

Ok... this is a note to self. How many times do I need to remind myself that I was not endowed with the same normal heart as others. I am not and I emphasize on N-O-T, not! meant for rides. I am meek, weak, fragile, pansy and much more. Motion sickness worms have infested my veins and they are going to live there for life! So, I must, must not try risking my life again by riding the giant wheel again!

It was just yesterday... my cousins, me and my brother went to the Gwalior fair. It is held annually and it never has anything new to offer other than the details of the lost child's undergarments announced on loudspeaker throughout the fair!! Why are these stupid parents let inside the mela (fair)!?

"Why, what are you hiding there?"
"It's a 4-year old!"
"Oh, and what is written on your forehead there!??"
I-am-a-stupid-irresponsible-parent

"Sorry, we have strict orders! We can't let you inside the mela."

----------

Anyway, after much insistence, I mister dumbhead was convinced to once again sit in that ride of suicide they call the giant wheel. It went up, and it came down. Wow! Thrilling! See? I am not scared anymore!!

Wait a minute, they are just warming up! *Speeding up now* Gosh! I feel pins and needles all over my body! I am growing numb! I feel my heart beating against my chest! I am cold! I feel like throwing up. My brain is floating in the excessive cerebrospinal fluid produced during this activity. I think it is tossing and turning. This is deja vu. Why am I stupid enough to ride this thing again thinking I have grown stronger with the heart of a lion now. Damn you, Swami Vivekananda! It's your fault. It's all your fault. It's you who wanted the youth of nation with the courage of a lion! I was striving to fulfil your dream and I am gonna die doing that!! I am yet a virgin! What a waste of youth!

At last, the wheel of death stopped..... with my cabin hanging on the top. Murphy's law!

Thanks to this experience, I now know what it feels like just before dying from a heart attack!

Never again! No! Or maybe next time is the last time.

Random in tandem

2009-01-20T21:17:00.000-08:00

I see arranged marriages all around me. Even among the educated lot of Indian society, the word "love marriage" is "filmy" and somewhat filthy. Behind closed doors, in drawing rooms, everywhere people mutter and whisper that X married Y and they knew each other beforehand! How shameful! I think the key words here are "middle class". Indian middle class has to somehow discern the upper class and the lower class from itself. As the thinning boundaries and its growing ambitions make the job difficult day by day, the middle class works on certain sturdy definitions that define it and keep it grounded.

One such notion defining it is the higher sense of morality which feeds its ego. It is like saying, "Look! We have risen above ground and touching new heights but, we still haven't forgotten (unlike you!) where we come from and what we were spoonfed with; and that we will continue to plant the saplings of the very same ideology into the minds of posterity. This notion is kind of ok at certain points but, when it starts taking the shape of intolerance, it needs to be met with an iron hand. Else, we'd all continue to do the same mistakes our forefathers did without learning from them... because it would be a liability. We know it's wrong but, it ought to be right because our forefathers lived their whole lives on it.

Just like the line between middle class and the so-called progressive class, there is a gap of generations. The upper member of this gap needs to somehow negotiate tactfully its way through rationalism. The walls of faith need to remove their blindfold and it would be heartening to see if it happens without a hard fought revolt.

Speaking for myself, I am glad I didn't find myself into this cultural clash as I am not as deeply in love with anyone that I would fight my parents to marry her. I would need to negotiate my way through though when the time comes... until then, the waters are calm. Any ripples?

Great, isn't it?

2009-01-20T06:32:00.000-08:00

Isn't it great when you feel happy for no reason? This thing when occurs to someone must be a blissful experience and I am telling by my experience. I woke up happy today... the radio aired all my favourite songs, I looked back and smiled on my old memories. Good and bad. I thought about life and felt so gifted; to have such great family, friends... I love me!

I sat where I wanted, I thought what I wanted and I did what I wanted. It was a day filled with positive energy for no reason. Remarkable.

Apologies.... I'll continue the story...

2009-01-16T11:10:00.000-08:00

Hey... so sorry...

As I was typing the last entry in my college library, I ran out of time and had to go. Didn't get a chance to come back since then. And, as I left Davangere and reached back home, things just kept me busy and I totally forgot about this unfinished story. Besides, in my absence this ol' 'puter of mine took quite a beating from the trojan horses, worms and viruses roaming out there.

Anyway, back to business (Thanks threeiceys for reminding by the way... and a happy new year to you!)-

I'll start from the beginning.

Once upon a time, there lived a town... a living, breathing town. A small town with little guile, tact or cunning. A town which knew only the language of simplicity and charm. The seasons seemed to be pleased with the town. Summer was optimum just to give the autumn leaves enough contrast against the golden brown soil. Winter just prepared the environment to welcome spring. And rain? Rain was a close friend of this town. Never did it fall uninvited. Never did the clouds dare roar on the denizens. Politely, they would shower it so that everyone takes his own sweet time to reach home, take out the umbrellas and take guard. The rain would then soak the city in its freshness. The green would go greener and the pink would go lavender. It was all orderly and planned. God's perfect plan. Mishaps did occur from time to time, where don't they? But, the town recovered in a heartbeat as no one was guilty... just hard luck... so, life would smile at itself and go on.

There lived a single mother with her young boy. The son was any working mother's dream. Early to bed, early to rise. Charming, polite, assiduous... respectful and all. The mother and son put up in a small cottage with a passive fence all around. Passive because it didn't give an impression of intending to prohibit encroachment. On the contrary, it seemed to invite it. The low lying barbed wires and beds of beautiful flowers all around were an open invitation to stray goats in the vicinity, but the outdoorsy nature of the mother made her ears so prone to any movement outside that the goats et al would ignore the open invitation, after so many failed attempts. When the mother and son won't be at home, the harmony of the town was such, that there won't be any cattle around. In short, everything was in order.

One day, as you had begun to expect, the order broke! The son who'd be back home before the evening showers started hadn't come back from school even after it started coming down heavily and even eventually stopped. Mom was worried but, so used to the order, she wasn't much perturbed. Only when it started getting really dark she went out in search. Something, somewhere was wrong- she could sense it.

She inquired at school, met his friends... as she was tracing the path back, anxiously- she stopped to see the crowd collected around something which she had ignored in hurry while her way up. Disappointment leads us to deeper places but, this one was an ugly one. A pool of blood, a body, same fuzzy hair, same eyes, same... she fainted.

Her child was dead. Her reason for living. Why would she want to carry on? The rest of her years would be devoid of happiness. The smile from her lips was snatched away. That night, it didn't rain. It just thundered. The clouds mourned the death at the top of their lungs.

The spirit of the town was bigger than the grief of a lonesome mother. It dawned. Life went on as usual. The colours were everywhere. They did offer everyone their share of joy, their share of life. Only that the mother didn't accept their offer. The neighbours, friends, friends of friends- all came and went but she was inconsolable. Well, not exactly. Actually, no one was able to answer a simple "Now, what?". The same old "meaning of life" question.

One evening, as she was sitting under the verandah staring at the zeroness, a goat passed by the side of the fence. She sat motionless. Usually, her eyes would go alert and ears as pointing in direction of a prey. But, she sat blank. Goat noticed this and cautiously looked back. Na-ah, she wasn't feigning it, dear! The goat, out of instinct, hesitatingly waited and slowly hopped inside. The mother still stared- right into the goat but as if it was a transparent object. The goat slowly started eating into one of the plants. The flowers were marred. The yellow and the orange started disappearing into the white of the goat.

The lady suddenly sprang from her chair. The goat, too timid to react, turned back and ran with all the force it had, never to look back; except once maybe, to have a last look at the garden of pink tulips, roses and what-nots. This timidity seemed to amuse the lady.

She took a walk in her garden, noticed the changes and smiled.

First Post Of The Year 2009 (with a story to tell.)

2009-01-04T21:49:00.000-08:00

Let me begin by wishing the MILLIONS and MILLIONS of my fans all across the world a very happy new year. Breathe in, deep... deeper... deeper still!!

Wait for it!
Wait for it!

Now breathe out...

How does it smell? How does it taste? The new air of the new year.... filled with same old crap!! Terror, plunging economy, falling standards- nothing changes...

Nothing changes if you don't want it to. Just before 2008 was leaving, saying its good-byes, it asked me to close my eyes, and from its tightly clenched fists slipped a feathery note. It had a picture of a key. A pretty, slightly obese, highly independent and oh... so... effervescent key. She showed me the way... to unlock... wait for it, wait for it....

"the lock"

Yes, the lock. The lock that couldn't be unlocked even with a thousand good deeds or a million fake smiles. It was the lock which safeguarded the doors. The doors with no creeks, no squeaks.... the doors almost invisible. Doors that are now within your reach and now they are not. Sometimes you ram your head so hard on them that you start bleeding from within. The doors to happiness, they were.

Ehh... excuse mua for the use of such colourful language. Anyway....

I had almost forgotten how to be happy in the past six months or so. A joke coming from someone would undergo a thorough scrutiny before reaching my funny bone. She helped rediscover myself. I dedicate this story to my key-

Once upon a time, there lived a town. Yes, lived. It had a living, breathing soul. An active spirit to keep its denizens cheery... (Arrgh! Gotta Go... will come back sooner than possible)

Last Blog Of the Year 2008

2008-12-30T03:43:00.000-08:00

Hey 2008, you've been a great company thus far.... but just as I betrayed 2007 and fell in your lap... I must betray you for my mistress that I have secretly been thinking of: 2009. I know I am a dog, I know, I know.

Anyway... I'll remember you. You've been an year of self-realization. Whew! You almost turned me into an out and out emo! I rode through sea waves, touched (well, almost!) the corals... stayed on islands... traveled through all kinds of terrains... so, basically you were an year of travel; both geographically and psychologically. And yet, I can't say... Boy! Have I come a long way or not! 'Cause, I have not! I am still there. Maybe an inch or two deeper in the mud with cow-dung flung over my face and no mirror to laugh at myself.

I thank you for being an year of experiences. I maintain that an experience- no matter bad or good- is an experience. I don't thank you for throwing the realization over and over again to my face that I am not God, I cannot be God and I don't like the guy who's on the job at the moment 'cause frankly, he's pathetic at it. Terrible! And no, Santa didn't come this year either! Blah!

Hoping 2009 would be a little more terror-free, peaceful and would at least fetch me a loving girlfriend and some trustworthy friends.

Addition: ....And a bike!

Additional addition: ... A Sports bike! A stylish one!

Additional additional addition: .... A Yamaha FZ to be specific.

Note to self!

2008-12-27T05:05:00.000-08:00

I have started viewing life and people in a different light altogether. My outlook is changing and I am so darn proud of this transition- this coming of age. Happiness is something that hides behind your skin. Some jokes that get under your skin can be brushed under the carpet just by one wink of your loved one. (Yikes! I am again talking crap!)

Since time immemorial, I have been listening to the happiness-is-not-conditioned bullcrap but only now, have I realized the meaning. Yesterday, I crossed paths with a strong personality and she took me to a ride. She had a slip, a small piece of paper which had the answer to my tireless soul-searching venture. It wasn't a shortcut to happiness- it was a way towards happiness. Listening to others is a big mistake. Not listening to your heart is an even bigger mistake. I leave it to the reader to muse further.

Motivations

2008-12-19T03:42:00.000-08:00

Motivation finds its source in strange locations. Sometimes it is as simple as an achievement or a person extraordinaire but, other times, it hides behind angst, ecstasy, hatred or just boredom. The strangest of them all, in my view, is neglect. A person neglected or feeling neglected... can get motivated. How? Let me think about the cascade reaction.......

Well...

2008-12-08T02:18:00.000-08:00

Dilemma is the word for this month.

Belated dose

2008-12-04T20:53:00.000-08:00

Well.... haven't got the time to write anything here. Been a while... blah blah blah...

Anyway,

So, I finally met Vinita and it all just seems like yesterday. And no, it wasn't yesterday! Life has come a full circle and I've just realized that it is an outward spiral more than a circle.... whatever that means!

I have this hunger within myself about which I am not doing anything.... It is the hunger for love, to be popular and to do what no one has done before. To rule the aisles, to reign supreme and to take the charge of my life.

The biggest obstacle in my way is that my life isn't mine anymore. Never it was but, now it is more evident. I am ruled by the people around me, the experiences that befall me... which is unavoidable for a mere mortal like me. I have a bigger goal to achieve but the trivialities of the travel keep my eyes off my goal...

More crap later.

Update

2008-10-10T05:05:00.000-07:00

Back from Manipal trip. Mentally am still where I started from. Planning a surprise gift for Jalebi.

Unprescribed!

2008-09-25T04:18:00.000-07:00

Well, regular doses haven't been regular ever since I came back to Davangere... heh! Anyway, here's a quick update on what I have been like in the past few days.

Second year comes bundled with more practical classes than I could ever imagine in first year. I am lagging back, pushing myself (Well, not really!) to match up! My digits are trying hard to catch up with this race of index fingers and thumbs working meticulously on wax blocks, extracted teeth etc. This gets boring at times but, when it starts getting reeeeeely boring, something laughable, amusing happens to keep the spirits alive. If there is God, this balancing act is the strongest indication of His presence.

Mom's b'day jus' passed.... I sent her a very special card telling her how special she is for me.... she liked it. Grandma (Dadi) has caught herpes. She will fight back, I know. But God! Why her!?

I am in a dilemma of my own kind. Can't even talk to myself about it.... You might think what the hell I am talking about.... Well, it is just that there's one friend who's more than a friend for me but, I think the vice versa is not true and even if it is....... I don't know what it is! Blah!

In Davangere

2008-09-09T03:40:00.001-07:00

Hah! Back to college again... the burden seems to be multiplying day by day. The results are still awaited. Emotional turmoil underway....

Pictures Tomorrow!

2008-09-06T10:22:00.000-07:00

So.........! *Sigh*

I am back from the holidays and like always, there's a lot to say. I think I'll better blurt it out on my other blogspot. I'll post the pictures here though. So, watch this space.

Here's the link to my travelogue- the link

:)

Happy Journey to me........

2008-08-27T05:45:00.000-07:00

Off to the Andamans!

Dam!

2008-08-26T12:52:00.000-07:00

26-08-08

Today would go down as a memorable day in my diary. Me, Krishna and Atul went to a water reservoir about 20 kilometers away from the city and went boating and trekking, (well, sort of) there.

Amidst all this, the unrelenting humidity of this landscape was trying to kill us with dehydration through perspiration, our saviour came in the form a sweet little drizzle and later on the cool breeze through the hilly highway.

Kabhi khud pe hansa main.....

2008-08-25T12:36:00.000-07:00

... kabhi khud pe roya.... That's the lyrics of the first Indian Rock album sung in Hindi! I like that track!

Today was a dull day. The day began at 3 in the noon or something.... I was lazing on the Sofa when Atul came and we took off to some outdoorsy action. It was hot and humid outside as it is right now and is very irritating!

Life in South India is so much better weather-wise and otherwise. Us North Indians have a philosophy which is very non-violent in nature but still has something wrong about it. It is- "Live and let die." Maybe, it's the weather. South India which has a much gentler climate produces much gentler people. I was born in Spring so maybe that's why I am so gay-ishly gentle. Hehe!

Janmashtami

2008-08-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

Today, as I was riding through the busy streets of Gwalior on the eve of Janmashtmi- a festival celebrating the birth of Lord Krishna... an unexplainable aura gripped me and led me through the festive spirit of India-ness. It is a special feeling to feel Indian, rarely it happens but when happens, it leaves you with goosefleshes and a glitter in the eye.

People had come down to the roads to celebrate the birth of their favourite deity. Such love, such faith, such enthusiasm.... it fixed a smile on my face....

Human pyramid in the middle of the road to break the matki, all the order in the chaos.... people here love to celebrate the fact that they can celebrate. I am proud to be one of them!

GOVINDA AALA RE!!!!!

Fort Today

2008-08-23T08:04:00.000-07:00

Today, me and Krishna went to the Gwalior fort. Had fun playing with the Sony Handycam I got from one uncle....

Have a look-

Bad

2008-08-22T09:40:00.000-07:00

No one's perfect in this world.... situations don't let us be. To attain perfection is to attain a perfect sense of judgement but there is no such thing as perfect judgement because every situation has flip sides.

At times, we need to make judgements, decisions and these may not fit well with the standards of morality or the wishes of our near and dear ones. As there is no visible moral police that guides our moves. Our own sense of morality is more often than not blurred by the bias of self-satisfaction.

So, that's how bad people are born!

Hmph!

2008-08-21T23:29:00.000-07:00

Talked to Vinny yesterday. She is still her bubbly self. I am still my charming self but still, there's something between us that's missing. Funny how life creates these voids which only heal with time. You cannot try to create the chemistry yourself, chemistry creates itself; that's it! If all goes well, I'll be leaving for Bangalore to wish her a happy birthday....

We talked for about an hour.... there was so much to catch up to but we were not rushing it....! That's a good thing.

Ok... that's it for now.

Reading habit.

2008-08-21T04:41:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we project ourselves as people who we want to be or who we want to be like. I am an example. I don't think I read or have read enough to claim myself as a well-read person. The first few lines or pages of a novel... knowing the names of 19th century English writers doesn't make me who I want to be.

Reading a book requires some amount of patience and a lot of dictionary work... which is not my cup of coffee. (I like coffee over tea.)

Reading a bad book requires none of the above but, c'mon... I have to develop a taste. I mean J K Rowling and Chetan Bhagat might be the current hot shot favourites but, they cannot help you if your expectations are comparing them with P G Wodehouse and Thomas Hardy.

I wish there was a shortcut for this....

Not for you to know...

2008-08-21T02:31:00.000-07:00

Well, I have failed to understand people and how miserably! It is not as extreme in everyone's case as I think. It is not always best friends or no friends, friends or enemies, enemies or nobodies etc etc... with everyone.

I think I tend to over-react at times. She doesn't love me. I don't get any love signals. Why do I have to ask "WHY" always. It is a fact, not a theory.

Anyway, that's gibberish for the uninformed... hehehe...

I watch Bachna Ae Haseeno today. Movie's good. Good romantic movie. Ranbir's a star already!

Introduction

2008-08-21T02:25:00.000-07:00

Here I won't try to be artsy-phartsy. This is the place where I will try to be more regular on the cost of being cool and intellectual.

So.... without further a due....