If Sanity Prevailed………..

Smiles, heart talk, adventure, dreams and then back to reality. When the going gets tough the tough gets going.

It’s not a verbatim, but it’s a sane talk to the mind and heart together. When one realizes of what has incurred to their self, it is normalcy to expound upon what went wrong.
apacity to ones time, so less often than not, one ends up with a realization of true essence of the loss. Less understood as to why one’s mind thinks of aspect which is not real as to be real. A dictation of the past, there I speak………

It was a time when, all that was cared about was presence in the very sense of feeling belonged to. A sense, when it perturbs to evoke a feeling where all that mattered was about genuinely recognizing yourself to be the perfect fit to a situation and thence on forever.

Wake up, then the mobile beeps……….

 - “I wish there was more meaning to what we speak, could it be that we relate to each other?”

Amigos - “Hmmmm… not sure what you talk about, but there is something which brings me a smile everyday as I read your message”

 - “Is it ever that you take beyond what is spoken off?”

Amigos - “Should I? If so, I’d wheel my world around the very asset of being felt”

 - “Alas, if the words could be interpreted as it was…………. There could be more reasons to the belief”

Amigos - “----‘if only I can tell you how I interpret not anymore being your mere friend, cos my heart is feeling a bit of ticklish where it knows you can reserve the thoughts of being elusive’---“

Amigos - “Well let’s say, beliefs are more often construed to be a misalignment of true feelings”

 “Give me a break………………. For the fact that I don’t understand what you say”

Since then, it’s a whirl of a wind where none realizes where the life is headed.

Shifting to the present,

 - “Hi”
Amigos – “Hello”

 - “been a while, how you have been doing”

---------------- and there goes again, when you realize that the most important person in your life-cared for has become someone’s life, wheel stops turning around cos you realize that life is a fucking screwed mission of reality when you could’ve had an option to turn around and sing a song………

“Your beautiful in the words of below song………….

John Mayers –
“Oh her eyes, her eyes
Make the stars look like they're not shining
Her hair, her hair
Falls perfectly without her trying

She's so beautiful
And I tell her every day

Yeah I know, I know
When I compliment her
She wont believe me
And its so, its so
Sad to think she don't see what I see

But every time she asks me do I look okay
I say

When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

Her lips, her lips
I could kiss them all day if she'd let me
Her laugh, her laugh
She hates but I think its so sexy

She's so beautiful

And I tell her every day

Oh you know, you know, you know
Id never ask you to change
If perfect is what you're searching for
Then just stay the same

So don't even bother asking
If you look okay
You know I say

When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

The way you are
The way you are
Girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are “

Wise Old Man – “life is all about misinterpreting what you have, if so it cud never be that you would ever miss a person”

And I say, I’d never but what to do………………….. “

……………… if all things could be listened to and if all things could be adhered to …
>

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Plastered Love

I wonder why one lasts with an everlasting smile, so glued on the face when they think about their loved one.

Happiness with charming beauty, pleasantness with an adorable smile, craziness with unbelievable cuteness, numbness with the heartwarming sweetness, never ending care… and of all, an ability to stay put with a never fading smile… well now that is what I call as the symptoms of the most desired emotion of a human psyche… plastered love!

And that’s what is called, as the wise old man refers to - a feeling of “an insane happiness that so encapsulates the very living when smile matters more than the tailing wrinkles of the aging years”

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A moment stolen from the chaos.

Nothing great
Nothing less

Just a moment of breathing MY life
Just a moment of living the joy within
Just a moment of reaching the far sky
Just a moment of reviving the lost energy
Just a moment of believing in what I can do
Just a moment of getting lost and still smiling
Just a moment of rejoicing nostalgic memories
Just a moment of feeling every sense explicitly
Just a moment of being berserk and still be sane

Nothing great
Nothing less

And I call it the magic of rains

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Ode to SICKO

Once upon a time wise old man, as fictitious as he can be in my mind, did say; the society is judged by the way it treats the underprivileged and not necessarily by the count of high raised buildings and glamour it can carry off. Never did I imagine I’d confront the emotional variations of the so said above.

Late afternoon, a day in Nairobi, I happened to watch this documentary by Michael Moore called the SICKO. Started off as a feature of America’s health care policies and went off to a traumatizing revelation of how the policies affect the lower bottom of the society who all they seek is to be taken care off at their worst of the conditions.

It wonders a normal mind, how is that policies of such a stature, as stated by the government, could be against the living society. Let me give you a glimpse of the same as I go by.

The feature starts off with a normal American’s life woven around the health policy. It spells, how much expensive the medication can prove to be whilst you still pay the taxes as quoted by the government for the betterment of society. One pays a hefty amount to get a policy which includes no compensation if at all you have one of the million diseases as listed in their governance. Now by chance you encounter any of those against the listed scene, you end up being hospitalized and waiting till eternity to be served the deserved.

Following on to different countries, Mr. Moore goes on to explore how the health policies make or break a person’s life. Touring to France, he faces the shock of his life, where he learns that the hospitalization doesn’t cost a bit if you chose to hit the hospitals. For example, if you are sick with some reasons, you are attended to immediately by the expertise where they’d cater to your basic essentials without bothering how much dough you carry around. The motto is very simple, serve the one who knocks on your door, irrespective of their social stature of being privileged or not. As simple as that.

More to add, France has a policy that if you work beyond 35 hrs in a week, you get compensated with those many hrs of leave by the employer as a RULE. One gets to take off for mandatory 5 weeks vacation no matter what. If you happen to be a lady and pregnant, you get to have 6 months of paid vacation and 6 months of unpaid leave but you can still resume your work after 1 year with no hinges. If one falls sick, depending on ones circumstances, the doctor seeks the patient’s mindset of willing to resume his work. If one quotes of say 3 months break to heal from the illness, it is so be it. Doctor signs off a advice to the employer that the employee will be off for the next 3 months on medical grounds and the employee gets paid 65% of the pay by the government and 35% by the employer so to ensure he gets his full 100% pay and yet time to recover and recoup for his immediate future. Beat that for compensation!!!

Moving on to London, Mr. Moore heads to a local hospital which is run by the National Health Policy. If you are sick, you are embraced immediately by the hospital to its best of the services and best of all you don’t pay a penny for the services. You are given the best of the class health care and treated respectably. Mr. Moore hunts for a department which actually charges for the services and disappointingly finds none. However, he does spot a cashier cabin and is thrilled to know the hidden cost that one may dismiss. To his disappointment, he learns the cashier cabin is the one where the patients get paid rather than paying for the services. Seriously noted, the patients can get their money back in this department for their travel expenses and not in turn pay for the hospitals services. Now here is the best part. As quoted earlier, the hospital is run by National Health Policy so the doctors actually work for the government. Now imagine, being a government servant, one could possibly imagine their life to be livable. But challenge your thoughts as the doctor in interview drove around an Audi with a million dollar apartment all by himself to his family and had no debts whatsoever.

Now one would imagine how a normal doctor gets to live such a lavish life. Here was the unbelievable part, the doctor in question was on general practioner and his compensation revolved around how many patients he would heal from their blood pressures, habits of quitting smoking and drinking and leading a normal life. His perks actually depended on the counts of patients he succeeded to heal from the abnormality! The doctor gets paid 85000 pounds annually, all health care taken care off for his immediate family and the pension in question would run more than 100000 pounds for his security. He posed a life of luxury one could imagine for his belief. With 2 state of the class cars, apartment one would die for, yet serving the society to its privilege. When asked a question would he love working in the states, he replied, why would I, when I am doing the best to the society and being compensated equally. Point well taken!

Mr. Moore, to believe more on the government and its health care policy, moved on to meet the American families that lived in the city. On the table served with some fantastic wine and dinner, he was facing 9 families from varied sectors. To his shock, they all had the same story how life is so different from the ones they saw back in States. Disclosing me to his shock, they spoke of the government actually hiring a nanny to the women who were pregnant. Nanny would come twice a week to the houses and do their laundries and cooking and helping the ladies during their pregnancy and post pregnancy. The individuals dint have to pay anything for the services. Beat that! Which government would pay for Nannies for the services as needed by the expected mothers! None that I know until I saw the documentary.

Best part of the entire Health Care, your prescriptions comes for 6.65 pounds and nothing more. The price is inclusive of no of prescriptions that the doctor gives. 1 aspirin or 100 aspirins or the most expensive medication of the terminal illness, the price remains the same.

Moving back to Canada, Mr. Moore sat by the table in a hotel which served best of the stakes. Along with him were his distant relatives who’d been Canadians since the time they knew that existed. The couple in their late 80’s spoke about how Canada’s Health Policy did save their life to a large extent. Canada, as one knows is right across the river that separates it from America. However, the separation is studied more beyond the geographical extent. It is all together, in different terms that one could possibly associate with. There, if one falls sick, he could just walk into the hospital without any consultants of the Health Policies to know if the hospital was listed under their cover. One could choose their own doctors without dictation. That was absolutely new to Mr. Moore from America and quite shocking as well from his learned past.

Where Mr. Moore came from, one had to 1st consult their Health Policy consultant for their state of affairs and then go to the listed Hospitals for their limited services. Anything beyond as quoted in the Health Policy would be ones own expense, and believe them, the expenses are mountain high.

An incident as told by a Canadian, drew my attention to the possible expenses one would bear with. Upon a time, he was holidaying in US of America where he was enjoying one afternoon playing golf. As the acknowledged golfers swear by, there are times when they get the golf’s hinge and hurt their arms with a bulging pout. So called, the golfers arm, the nerve that winds your biceps muscle with the forearm, flips by and you face a traumatic experience of a pain that hurls around from your arm to the chest. So it did for the vacationer, that it almost spoiled his family’s time out of Canada.

When he was off to one of the prestigious hospitals, he was derived with a shock to acknowledge that the bill was amounting to more than $24,000. He chose to live in the pains and move back to Canada, to be adequately treated, as respectably as possible, in his homeland. Surprisingly he was treated with the best of the possibilities and least of the amount, if I may say so, the amount was null.

Now what separates the river flowing by, that it caters to such and advancement. Wonder wildly, it is the mere separation of the government rule that spells by. Hardly an evidence to the ruling dictum, one sees a total life altogether.

Back in USA, Mr. Moore, stops by a lane, where one often sees a vision of being abandoned by the roads when he fails to cater to the hospital services. Unbelievable, so to say, it is disgusting to realize the hospital authorities abandon the patients so secluded, to the lanes where they can find their healing to the future. Fortunately, there was an establishment, which actually catered for these abandoned patients by the streets to be nurtured to their best healing abilities.

An exclusive interview with one of the patients who was left so far to her destiny and accepted whole heartedly by the institution, it revealed the kinda work the establishment was involved with. A lady, in her late 70’s was diagnosed of being struck with a terminal illness of leukemia. Unfortunately she had no close by’s to support her through the turmoil. As had inadequate capacity to pay her expenses, she was left stranded by the road. But for an angel disguised in a nurse’s capabilities who helped her way through the institution, she was indeed been taken care off after all. In a surprising interview with the head of the doctor of the earlier hospital, he had the audacity to comment that she was abandoned as she was unable to pay the hospital expenses. Aren’t doctors trained to help the needy and sick ones? What happened to the oath he took as a graduate to be there when the patient wants him the most, what happened to the desire that made him to be a doctor in the 1st place and worst of all what happened to the humanity that he was born with? How could one abandon a Leukemia patient, or matter of fact any patient when they can’t afford to pay the hospital bills. Haven’t they heard of Mother Teresa??? Don’t they have something called sympathy within? What would they do when they are not in a position to pay the hospital bills and treated the same way as they do?? It drives me crazy to realize that money is the mother of all and will still be treated to be one so.

When the lady in pain was asked more questions she went to reveal how confused and shattered she was. One fine morning she was woken up by the nurses and asked to pack bags. Not realizing what was happening, she did so and then she was escorted to a cab where none spoke anything. The cab halted by a lonely road where the institution was located, she didn’t understand what was going on. Then the cab driver told her to get down and take care of herself. As she got down, she dint know where she was and was left alone on the cold streets by some cold human beings who least respected those in need. The footage on the camera captured her wandering for the next 10 minutes being clueless, one for being left alone and second for being disoriented due to her heavy medication.

All she was left with was the unknown fear, least that she could battle with her ongoing misery of leukemia. The tears never faded from her eyes through the entire interview. How could one possibly resist not binging to those emotions? But we still had many of them like the Head of hospital for whom all that mattered was money!

SICKO then moved on to the most traumatic experience of 9/11 rescue workers.

Seeing back to 9/11, one of the biggest shocks of the world (well quoted so by the United of States of America) and one believe it to be the most (neglecting the worst that was ever witnessed). Nonetheless not challenging the Big Ben’s rule of declaration, the documentary turns out to be one helluva experience from the ground level, especially as quoted politically by the great American, Mr. Moore (must admit I have become a crazy fan of his with the work that he has done)

There were many who battled the terrorists attack on the twin tower; from the state officials to the layman. They worked months together to excavate the victims from the debris; the pain barely being extinguished while the fire mellowed down.

Regina, John, Dona were few of those who volunteered themselves for the 9/11 rescue and dint expect anything in return. They struggled through days and nights months together to ensure the fear was minimized amongst the public. The work involved with ensuring the patients were taken to safety in the ambulances, they were treated well, dig the ground zero to excavate more bodies, etc. they were never directed what to do and never thought of doing it for some returns in the future. But to their dismay they never realized what would happen to them.

The feature talks about how the 9/11 rescue workers were diagnosed with health problems relating to respiratory issues, mental stability, etc. Regina turned out to have acute respiratory problems where she ended up barely able to breathe and had to go through continuous torture of coughing. Then America declared true heroes of 9/11 – the rescue workers who came forward to offer a helping hand – the fire department, the cops, etc, etc. Likes of Regina were lost in the crowd for their contribution to the society. They were neglected and still battling with the illness they got along being part of the rescue team.

Now comes the crux of the story - Regina, was forced to quit her job as her health conditions were not favoring her work. She could barely have a peaceful sleep as the condition got worse. In return, the government din’t do anything to rescue her. Her health policy dint do much either. She was forced to move out of New York and relocate to the outer part of the city as she could barely keep up with her expenses. She had 2 kids to take care off and all her savings went by in taking care of medical bills and kids education. There was no inflow of money of whatsoever. When she approached the 9/11 rescue compensation she was declined several times. The medical bills just kept shooting up like never imagined.

John on the other hand had developed a serious case of lung issues. He was treated, mind you on his own expenses, for most of the days with several medications. He could barely be out of his artificial respiratory equipment.

Dona, suffered with mental trauma and was diagnosed with acute migraine the worst of her several medical conditions. She was forced to move into her daughter’s basement popping at least 9 medications everyday.

Sadly there were countless of Regina’s, John and Dona.

Mr. Moore got to learn that America’s Health Policy was doing no good for America and wanted to explore one place at least in the country where medication was free. Surprisingly he found one at last. It was none other than Guantanamo Bay where the deadliest of terrorists were held!!!

The terrorists who threatened USA and were now part of the G Bay were treated with state of the art medical facilities that were being charged with atrocious amount to the Americans. Difficult to digest? So was it for me. The medical facility in the prison catered to every need of the prisoners and the best of all they dint have to pay a penny. At times I wonder, would Regina, John and Dona had to be the terrorists so to claim the medical expenses rather than being rescue workers? Sadly, will never get an answer for that.

Mr. Moore decided to do something for the rescue workers. One fine morning, he gathered many of the rescue workers and took them in a boat to G Bay. Well not exploring the details of how he managed to go to G Bay, he finally landed in Cuba. He then dared to go close to the G Bay periphery and called out for help to treat the rescue workers. His words were – “I am here with the 9/11 rescue workers who need medical attention not more and not less than those who were the core of 9/11 terrorism. Please let me through”. For obvious reason to the US Government his calls were not entertained and answered to. He had no choice but to return. But the medical conditions of the rescue workers were getting worse. So he decided to take them to the Guantanamo city. Nothing but surprise awaited his entry.

Cuba as most would recall was one of the countries which America saw as a threat and was branded evil. Fidel Castro still remains notorious in the history as quoted by USA. I am choosing to restrain myself on the political view of Cuba and USA and move on to Mr. Moore’s perspective.

Mr. Moore remembered of his childhood days where Cubans were treated as a threat and would come and kill Americans. So long, he knew them for the identity as told to him. As a child he was asked to be careful with the Cubans and was advised to be away from them for his own good.

However, he encountered a different Cuba altogether. Cubans actually assisted Mr. Moore and his teams with the local medical stores and the nearby hospitals.

When Mr. Moore and the rescue workers went to one of the medical stores, they were shocked to find out the cost of a breathing pump for respiratory problems was 5 cents whereas in USA Regina ended up paying $150 each pump!!!

However, Regina was asked to get the prescription from the local hospital and was advised by the attendant in the medical store, of a very reputed hospital close by.

When the entire group went to the local hospital, all they were asked to disclose was their names and DOB and did not have to consult any Health Care consultant, be referred to a listed service by the Health Care Policy and not even show their identity. The hospital solely believed in one aspect, the patients came to them for assistance and it is their responsibility to treat them humanly irrespective of their nationality.

The entire group was admitted into the hospital and they were treated with the best to their imagination. They were advised of their ailments and prescribed accordingly. Dona was taken off from 5 medications out of her 9. John was diagnosed with acute Bronchitis and was further advised to go for different scans.

It was nerve wrecking when the undiscovered real heroes of 9/11 were actually relying on their neighbors when it came to actual rescue. They were treated with dignity, respect and humanity. They dint have to bother about their medical bills as they were once been part of the rescue team saving lives. One could hardly imagine the flow of emotions that they experienced when they were treated the way they deserved. Regina had tears in her when she heard that they don’t have to be worried about anything. It was very depressing to watch them when they hugged the doctors and cried like babies.

On their way back from hospitals, the local fire department learnt of their arrival and invited them to visit the department. When the rescue team arrived to the location they were greeted with an ovation by all the officers. The officers went on to speak about how grateful they were to have the rescue team who actually worked in Ground Zero. The scene was moving to be watched. The rescue team was given sweat shirts with the Cuban fire department logo and a heartfelt hug from the officers.

Now USA considers Cuba to be a threat to their nation. But for the rescue team, it hardly took anytime to realize who the real threat was. Americans to their fellow Americans? - Hardly a difficult answer to the layman.

What amuses me is the decision of a country to provide security to those who threatened the very soul of the country. Infact the cost of ensuring the terrorists safety ran into millions. And for USA it was fairly well considered to spend such in millions as they were the terrorists! G Bay was one of the exclusive places so to say.

It so is the same with every country when it comes to securing the terrorists in prison. Ajmal Kasab, the sole terrorist who was caught during the 26/11 terrorist attack in India was highly protected prisoner – reason he killed many people and terrorized the nation. The cost to ensure his security was somewhere around 30 lakhs in a month, the last I followed months ago. I found no reason to follow such news when the country decides it is ok to spend such a huge amount on a terrorist rather than killing him. At times, democracy threatens the nation more than it ensures safety.

But how can I comment, likes of me are the one with least knowledge of political views. However, all I know and realize is the need of a miracle to be more of a human that we actually are and strength and courage to stand for what we think is right.

Do I have it? Do you have it? Does anybody have it? What does it take for a normal human being to stand out and fight against the atrocities that the governments rules? Remains a mystery!

It is a defeated fight when all one does is read, comment and not ACT!

When will there be sunshine? When one can remain fearless to those who dictate their terms to the mass!

A revolution is what is needed. Not the kinds to get fame, but the kinds which is heart felt. It need not necessarily be with full of blood but should necessarily be from the bleeding heart.

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Inorexia

Aham who what I was,
Aham who what I am, and
Aham who what I will be.


In the deepest dark inwardness of the self acclaim there lies underneath a surprising truth of destiny; for what you believe is what is to be seen of. From the essence of what is lived for, there is a transformation of reality; drawing its boundary from the realms of innermost fears to the outermost visibility. For now; it is seen as the significance of the ability to the portrayal of what one knows to what is taken to be known of. This, as the wise old man recalls, is the magnificent enlightenment of the selfish desire to be seen as what is intended to be seen of.

Defining the outermost circle, what one needs is not the fictitious aura of his presence but more of the hidden dilemmas that he intends to break the silence. Upon the times break, he rises above the horizon of the dreams and reality; marking his presence, more than the mere existence, to that of the real existence. Transformation, thus far proven to be ground breaking takes a whole new perspective when the reminiscence of the mislead identity breaks even with the real known only to him. Hidden masks casts away to the fall of the straying winds, disclosing the real self, only to be known as he who is what he is for.

Unfrozen from the lightening struck, he is taken above from the fears of unknown to the realistic vision of what can be acquainted. Mind you oh body of limited existence, acquainted only to the extent of the minds capacity. Fallen from the fallacy of what was believed, until so far, he rises beyond the magical attire of the dictated truth. For now, he is seen to be the real self, failing to the charm of what the world wants to see him as, but winning against the odds of what the world wishes to see him off.

As the surreal image falls back on the reflection of the self seen, it is the unseen realistic choir of melodies what one hopes to listen whilst the tranquility still prevails. Believe oh soul of envisaged portrayal, you are who you are and you are to be seen what you are.

Underlying the dictation of the living past, one seeks a whole new side of the minds view where all it takes is to confront the fear of the innermost to downsizing its visibility. For you oh mine, fear not; for all it takes is to embrace the living life to envision the real soul. Thence on, you live by the rules that forays the outcome of your own spirituality to a stage where all it matters is to be the real you.
Mindsets faces the block on the way, but thou not shatter to its existence as what is needed is the courage to confront more than the face to challenge it. Persistence in your own belief is the key to the game as seen. Don’t you rely on, mind o mind, don’t you rely on the moment of shifting your thoughts from what was lead to what is to be believed. The mask is awaiting to be foregone, only if you succumb to the brightness of what it can bring you with. Life, my sweetness, life is nothing but the reality of what is to be accepted and not about being prejudgemental.

Ahem, as the wise old man believes; it is in ones own interest to shed off the tears of the blacken mould, to resurface what was once hidden. For it takes more than acceptance of ones inner self, to the mere acknowledgement of the significant presence. Deep lieth in between is the undiscounted aspect of persistence over existence. Smile o mind o mine, smile as it is now the time to break the living led. You, oh my sweetness, are the real part of the living self, to be seen beyond the skin’s presence.

Aham who what I was,
Aham who what I am, and
Aham who what I will be.

For anything else, it is just a mystery which the wise old man unfolds with his very words.

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Mute Defines Differently

Sometimes silence is the best way of telling YES and sometimes silence is the best way of telling NO

Only the questioning heart and the answering heart can understand.... For the rest of the world its MUTE



Sensible Quote

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......

Silence in settlement.

One asks oneself, what is it that is pending to be settled?

Ask your silence, it may answer what you crave for.

But do ask sincerely, cos it responds to honesty:)

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pacing momentum

“Down the river path way,

“Down the river path way, I stand overhead a penetrating bliss. A mirrored image cropping the flowing serenity pinches the reality. Not again, but again I stand destitute to the same magnum. Here I am, playing the villain to a solemn serenity and ruptured claim, I stand here head on once again. Call it the kiss of the black widow, I breathe while I still die an unfolding death swelling with emotions that just puts me as another villain. I say, it’s me and nothing but me. It’s me and this what is it is. The gamble of emotions lost to the dice of solicits. Here I am an apparent painting of an penniless artist”


“Now that I stand here, I see, apart from the separation, I see what I stand for. Invariable with the decibel on what it says of me, I stand here with a multiple visions of what I can make a difference to. A life more precious than its self realization, more worthy than its own worthiness, more worthy than its own acclaim. I sense the justification that hovers around the reality. A smile, not that it comes naturally, but a smile which may recall of the right actions in the coming years. Loss is something which I’m accustomed to, but a gain in perpetual is what I know. Ever wondered how it feels to be in the sleepy hollow?

I start my story, unreliable to what it is sought after.

I do, strongly feel for the one, only succumbing to the reality that what one is for what is not seen for.

Ahem, call me the solitude of being an essence; I face you for your acclaim,

I stand your will, to look for what you will. Just a suggestion, know what it is, for I may be beyond what you will.

Complicated?

Ahaan? Get into reality. See what you don’t see. I am here living those for what you don’t see.

Psst: for those who claim to know me - alas, see something beyond what you perceive; I stand alive with flesh and bone.

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rush

Panting...


phew...


a rush
crazy one at it
a rush
pushing all aside
a rush
pulsing through
a rush

a rush
cannot hold it back any more

a rush
a rush

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Voila :)

My BEST friends wedding

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Remind me of this day

Boooooooom.......

remind me of this day when i was felt to be more responsible.

remind me o' mine,
remind me cos i may not,
remind me of everything,

remind me of those i can, which i will, and surely i shall,
remind me of this day when i did, what i can, more than u did expect,

remind me o' mine,
remind me cos i may not,
remind me of everything.

P.S: . .... ...
i shall remind you so :)

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In Hibernation...... for the BIG picture

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Happy Father's Day

Advertisements flashed all over in the newspaper. Father’s day on the cards, celebrate in style - make it special for the one who held your hand and made you stand up in life. Surprise the person with this and that…..

It didn’t connect to me for 2 simple reasons (which invariably is a space for new discussion).

Firstly, I didn’t deal with father’s emotion throughout my childhood. My mother was one and all for me. I used to switch her role (which she successfully played along) from mother to father and vice versa when the situation called for respectively.

Secondly, I am yet not a father. So there would be nothing to spare my words on this say.

So why the hell on earth am I writing on this Fathers day??? A question definitely pondering my own mind but is filled with a reason.

Lazing the entire day, I was lying on my recliner watching the Sunday movie showcase.
It was a boring Sunday as I was unable to walk out of the house for my health conditions. So I had to restrict my freedom outside the house. That meant no smokes! That meant no junk food! And that also meant more irritation!!

My nephew was all dressed up and he went along with his mother for their routine shopping spree. That called for me to baby sit my niece. Having no qualms about it, I held my niece in my arms and was totally lost in her expressions. She made the weirdest of the expressions, patiently posed to my passion on photography, hummed along with my tunes, grasped my finger and started nibbling around. Well, biologically I was in no state to cater to her needs and had to feed her using the spoon. She kept me engaged for the next few minutes keeping me wondering on her appetite. She felt hungry every half hour and all that she was destined to was the milk. I thanked my stars to my wide range of taste buds which relished on the different offerings and the choices I had.

Once she was done with her stomach full, I had to pat her back to make her burp. And she would only consider that to be a game and started rocking on my lap. A word of her games, as she is made to sit on anyone’s lap, she starts rocking front and back instantly, and the one is expected to sing “aane banthondu aane” – “elephant, came one elephant” (undeniable that the translation fails to narrate the actual essence).

I spent a good few hours with my niece while my mother made gulab jaamun’s in the kitchen. (Revealing a secret – while I am sick, I come with up no of demands to feed my stomach and gulab jaamun was today’s pick after the pakoras I emptied). And my sister was happily shopping along with my nephew in some part of the city.

It dint take long for my niece to sleep on my chest, making me realize as to how peaceful it can be when kids are all around one’s presence. With the dying entertainment on TV, I put my eyes to sleep along with my niece.

“Mera naam chin chin choo” the door bell woke me up from my sleep. A special mention on bollywood’s influence in our day to day life - my door bell came with assorted list of songs from the bollywood flicks. One being “Mera naam chin chin choo”.

My nephew ran to me, hugged and handed over a gift pack. Placing a peck on my forehead, he sweetly smiled and said “Happy Father’s Day!”

Expressions failed me as usual and I was stuck with a blank face. (Special mention of my kinds – I fit into that part of the species who need a life long class on being expressive to situations) This was my weak link and I failed to achieve this time as well. I was speechless and was gasping for breath. I did feel something for sure, whether it was with my health reasons or the so called emotions running down the spine. But I posed a look which was cut off by my sister with an explanation -

“You do so much for these kids, treating them to be of your own. This was a way of expressing their regards of your presence in their life. Be proud to be called a father and feel free to treat them the way you want. I have officially given you the liberties”

Guess with those words, no one needs anything else to break down. I refused to express again and left a smile covering my emotions. Words failed to come out, I hugged them in return and left the room for not able to control anymore. It was time for me to take a bath. Recollecting the wise old man’s say – “Reasons can convince one’s ego at various circumstances”

“Happy father’s day!”

The advertisements flashed in my mind. It left me wondering, is this what makes a father - feel to be one?

I came out of the bathroom, feeling fresh and all energized, walked into the living room only to face my sister holding my niece and diapers in the other hand. Smile on her face spoke the untold words.

“This is what takes a father - feel to be one”

Like the wise old man says – “You don’t have to be someone to feel something. Life gives you many instances calling for those emotions which are felt the same way as being someone”

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Puppy Love matured due course

“Vande Mataram…..
……………………..
……………………
…………Vande Mataram”

The song inspired in different ways to the hearts of the millions. For me it was another song talking of the nation. It was the song to be listened to every morning during the school prayers and it meant the same - every day, every year. Back in the school days it was more of compulsion that one is expected to listen to it with full attention. However, all those who grew up from the school days, would sync their thoughts with me when I speak of compulsion being overpowered by our own time of day dreaming. It is during the morning prayers in the school that our mind forays into diverse aspects while our lips still act the compulsion – just to please those maniacs waiting for every chance to prove their hold of power on us – PT master and the school teachers.

Through the years, I grew up listening to the same song and saw one of the similar mornings whilst being a student of Class X. It was that phase of life when we started understanding the power of opposite gender while feeling the million butterflies in our stomach. The phase of infatuation, crush, puppy love, etc, etc, etc and one always believed that it was all about LOVE.

It was one of the beautiful January mornings and indeed was truly a mesmerizing day. The cool breeze swayed the trees gently. The leaves fell from the surrounding trees as though they had specially been called to be part of the grandeur play for the day. The warm sunlight showed its presence thus successful in creating a warm feeling within. In short the morning fulfilled every criterion to be called as a beautiful romantic morning. And then….

“Vande Matharam….Vande Matheram…”

It was a familiar voice being echoed in the ground. However that morning it sounded with more appeal. The voice somehow made a connection to my heart and my eyes started focusing on the source of the angelic voice. She stood there on the elevated platform and gave her full justice for the morning remembering the nation’s pride. Something, somehow and somewhere it made sense to me that I wanted her to be part of my life. Well this is exactly what happens when Cupid, who was asleep for most of my life till then, suddenly wanted to shower his presence to me to believe his existence. So I believed, but I wanted to be part of her life listening to her singing my entire life.

Thus started my 1st love story; owing to that January morning.

I dint know who she was, nor did I ever see her before in the school campus. But from that day onwards all I wanted to know was Her - her thoughts, her likes, dislikes what she dreamt of, etc, etc, etc. I wanted to know all about her and it became evident to my friends around of my sudden interest.

What I came to know was satisfying. The worst fear for anyone who is stuck in the webby trap is whether the one they dream of has anyone whom they dream about. She was single. Thank God for that, but I had helluva competition. She was one of the best singers in the school, and what more she was a trained dancer and one of the studious lot in her class. We were in the same grade but different sections – thus both of us were of the same age. This mattered a lot to me as my thoughts were ranging from taking her to my mom and spending my time till the death bed and beyond. (Re-emphasizing on the unknown difference between puppy love and love)
She had a group of friends, like everyone else. They did everything together from eating, playing to hanging out.

Now I had a task in hand. How do I make myself visible to her and what should be the approach? Clueless. As I never was in such a situation and dint have any idea how anyone would approach and make them appear as the best guy ever. Hmmm…

She liked – music and singing. I nominated myself for a singing competition just to show her that I hail from a family full of singers. I practiced quite a bit for the competition and the day came when I was sitting in one of the corners and she walks upto the stage to give her performance. Result – I was spell bound. She wasn’t Lata Mangeshkar, but she was herself to me and I loved every bit of the song and her voice. And then I heard my name being called and I refused to react to the name given to me by my mother. The call for my name repeated thrice and an announcement was made – “those who can’t sing, request them to not nominate themselves” Thud!!! Attempt for the 1st impression failed miserably, but I was still glad that she dint know me to face the embarrassment.

I learnt that she went for her singing classes after school hours. Well I cant obviously join her singing classes as I dint fit into their requirement quite right. So the next option was the Veena class that was held right next door. A thought crossed my mind, atleast I can join Veena class and get to see her. I enrolled myself going against my uncle and dint inform my friends of the same. (A special mention of the ways men behave when it comes to impressing someone. They’d go to any length to impress someone but will always keep that as a secret to their friends – reason - they don’t want to be called as the guy who’l give up spending time with his friends and instead go to some music class to impress a girl)

The music class was really an opening to whole new world, as from there, I developed a special interest towards playing instruments, which I manage to play at times off late. However, joining the Veena class was a huge success as she noticed me coming for the classes and started exchanging smiles. But we never spoke to each other. Unfortunately I had to drop out of the class when my tutor instructed me to buy a Veena class to practice at home and without which she would not encourage teaching any further. Well cal it my bad luck, my pocket money couldn’t afford to buy a Veena. So I quit.

She liked – Sanskrit. Damn, then I understood how difficult it is to impress someone. I hated the subject as it was simply beyond my boundary of being approachable. Fortunately the language was being thought by the same teacher, so I had a chance and it clicked.

It was one of the early evenings, after finishing our school hours, I used to wait in the cycle stand by my cycle. Once she passed through the stand I would then take my cycle out and go for a long ride until I catch up following her. NO I was not a stalker. My friends were by side all along as they dint have any other choice. So they would wait patiently. One of the similar evenings, I saw her walking alone. It was that evening when I gathered all the courage and went upto her to get introduced. As I approached her my heart did a full thump dance. I did now understand the state of mind but it refused to open up and talk. So I stood there in front of her, making sounds like …ah..hmm..er. Maybe the fact that she had shooed away many guys who came to get introduced added more tension. I was not ready for a NO even for an introduction. Girls invariably understood this conversation and the situation became more troublesome when she just gave a smile. I had no idea what was that smile for. Was it a lull before the storm or was it the beginning of a new era in my life. Either ways I was clueless and at the same time dead NUMB.

Me : “Hi, I am Sudarshan from section G. Wanted a help from you.”
She : “ahaan. What is it?”
Me : “got to know that your section is ahead by a lesson in Sanskrit. Wanted to know if I can borrow your notes to copy.”
She : “ok. But I need the notes in 2 days, if that’s fine with you”
Me (covering my excitement) : “not an issue, I shall ensure that”

So there I managed to have my first conversation with this beautiful lady. Back home, all I did was turn page by page to see her handwriting, and flip in the last pages to see if she had written anything interesting. A special mention for my behavior in looking at the last pages - back in school days, the last pages were always meant for scribbling the thoughts that went through during the class hours. Match making with the crush’s names. Playing dots, etc. My search was only to find out if I by chance featured in her books. It was a big disappointment though it was obvious.

The next day I made a deliberate attempt to cross her path. And Bingo!!! she gave a smile. This time it was more of relief that she recognized me out of the lot. This was an achievement. It was a celebration time for me and my friends. The 1st story was taking a shape. I then started passing obvious looks at her. Exchanged the books more often and somewhere in between I asked for her number and I got it without any refusal. Bingo again!!!

Then it became a practice that I used to deliberately bump into her and end up talking to her post the school hours. Once she reached her nest, I began calling her from the coin booth (a phone booth where one gets to make a call by inserting a rupee coin for 3 minutes). I had a stock of rupee coins and all my friends started collecting coins for me. We spoke at length on different topics.

All this was happening in matter of 15 days. By then the news spread like a wild fire and most of the students in our grade got to know that we talk post our school hrs. Every love story needs to have a grey character. All of a sudden I started getting threatening letters and words by the guys who were considered to be the bullies of our school. And all I thought was “What the heck??? Why can’t they just be happy for me??”

Somehow, I managed to walk out all of the controversies and the threats. And it was time for me to disclose my feelings to her. Phew. Test of the time and I dint know how to gear up. Thanks to my best friend we came out with a very innovative way of expressing. We came out with a “Love Application”. Hilarious as it may sound but this was the fact that we wrote a love application and a left a space in the end for her to fill up whether it was yes or a no.

It was one of the worst feared days of my life, as I was not too sure of the reaction. What would she do? Slap me or kiss me, remained a big question mark in my mind. I somehow gathered tonnes of guts and placed the “Love Application” in her Sanskrit notes and passed on the book to her on my way back home. I dint look back and dint call that evening either. That was the worst night as well.

The next morning was again the morning of unseen fears, unseen reactions. I was a silent lamb and was mostly confined to my classroom. It was the best days of my friends as they had their time of their life looking at my situation.

It was in the Sanskrit class, that I knew something was wrong. The teacher came silently to me and held my ears and asked me is it what I come to school for??? Background to this teacher – my sister was his favorite student and he had a special place for me only for that reason. But that wild smile on his face when he asked me the question shook me left right and centre. The bell rang at the right time and he was swarmed with students to clarify doubts. At the same time I saw her passing by my class along with her friends and followed by her classmates. Every person had a look and that look was specially cast on me.

It was lunch time and we had to get out of the class. When we stepped down from the stairs she was standing along with her friends. With a look to bite us off. I knew at once that things were not alright. Nevertheless I was ready for the consequences (a never say never die attitude of every man). I walked by and heard my name being called by one of her friends. Post which she just gave me a smile. Trust me that dint help my situation. It was adding more fuel to my condition.

I dint get any response for my letter. Our study holiday started immediately with just 1 day break for our send off. Well its proven fact that a lot happens over a Send Off. And it did happen to me as well.

It was that time of the year when everyone scribbled on the Slam book, a book of memories to be stored for a life time. I did have mine too. While I was asking one of my friends to fill up one of the pages, I heard someone calling me from the 2nd floor. I turned to see her friend waving at me and I found my angel standing next to her in a saree and man what she looked.

Her friend wanted me to write in her slam book and I handed mine to her. Post which, I was walking down, without making much of a conversation when they came to me and she handed over my “Love Application”. I froze as I held a note of the application where she wrote her response in pencil. Rest of the application she chose to keep it with her.

As soon as they left, my friends came over in excitement to read her response. And I read –

“……….. I am glad to know you as a person, but it is too early to think of a relationship now. I want to remain a friend of yours and we can possibly revisit on the same thought after 4-5 years. But we will definitely keep in touch………..”

To the world it was a failure of my love story. But the only thing I saw was revisit on our thoughts after 4-5 years. We ended up talking almost everyday over the phone. The hopes on the statement dint die in the next 2-3 years of my life. We were definitely not going around. However we started becoming good friends and spoke of many things. And then we lost in touch with each other for sometime.

In between these years lots of changes happened in my life and I joined the engineering course only to find her best friends being part of the same college. We started hanging out again and would laugh at all those situations of my puppy love being dealt in school days.

The entire friends circle met up regularly at each ones house, we went for outings, movies, café coffee day, parks, to eat chaat and sweets. We had the best of the best times in our college life. She was the one who thought me how to make Veg fried rice and biriyani and till date it remains one of my delicacies that I can charm anyone with.

Then came the time when she was to get married and she chose on the option of getting married to the 1st guy she met. An IIT grad and well settled and moreover he looked like Sanjay Suri – every girl’s heartthrob then, one of bolywood actor. What more can a girl ask for. That instance the thought of 4-5 years came into my mind, but then again I had matured enough to understand that it would take long time for me to settle. Also, we both had never spoken about revisiting the statement made by her. So I was not ready to loose a good friend by digging old matters and those silly promises. I chose to be the good friend and went for the wedding.

Till the last minute of the wedding I was only thinking of the bollywood climax where the marriage breaks off and I go and tell her family that I am ready to marry her even though I am just a student. Before I could go further with the next scene we were called to put the akshatha (rice grains to be thrown on the wedded couple) and they were declared husband and wife. Then and there I killed my puppy love and gave a life long path to the friend in me and we remained the best of friends.

Thus ended my 1st love story; owing to those wedding vows.

I know her from the last 14 years and till date we remain the best of friends. And I am glad that it ended this way.

Beep Beep (1st message of the day)

“1 message received”

“Eno madthaideeya? En samachara? Girlfriends ella araamana?” (“what are you doing? What’s the latest news? How are your girlfriends?)

Beep Beep (last message for that night)

“Will you please listen to us and quit smoking. All are thinking for your good health. Don’t be silly and listen to us. All of us are concerned about your health”

And the argument continued…..

As the wise old man says – “One’s mind always knows when to accept reality and let go of the memories; for it will lead to a new path for a new relationship”

In my case, it was a new friendship – one among the best I have.

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The look of the heat

Looking at my own reflection on the mirror.... a cheap imitation of the mohawk from Taare Zameen Par.... (well thats what i have been called so while i had no means of relating to the mentioned look)..... i try gelling a new possible look....

and then it happens ... i break down...break down with droplets of sweat from my forehead... and i remember ....the heat is on....

the heat is on and off i go with my most noticeable aspect of look.... i shed my hair to beat the heat ... and now i am called a cheap imitation..

but know what.... i care less for the comments passed... as i feel light headed and definitely dont have to spend time setting my hair ....

Almost Mohawk.... all smiles i am ready for the summer

Type rest of the post here

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Sleepless Nights

She came...

And time and again…
She did…

We were looking out of the window…
Together, at 3 in the morning…


Clouds clearing their trail…
Showcasing the beauty by itself…

The silver moonlight…
Lit the night to its best…

She says she is in love with me…
Cannot survive a day without visiting me...

I am not too sure what my reaction to her presence should be…
But I am still there with her, looking out into the sky at that very minute…

She says she can be an addiction…
But she seldom realizes that I ride on a different high…

Contradictory to my thoughts…
But she still visits me and I am invariably in her company every time…

She leaves behind a killer smile every visit…
Only to realize the smile takes away my sleep every night…

And now she’s on her way…
I can sense her miles away…

She is walking seductively…
Every footstep promising to kill my sleep…

And I am left with no choice…
But to date her….

Helpless that I can be at this phase of my life…
I still date her unwillingly…

The night falls following yet another day in the calendar…
And she promises not to leave me tonight as well…

Insomnia….
The trouble of dating this seductress….

Insomnia…

and here she comes.

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Parallel Living - Counting yet another day

Feeling of being handicapped to move your mind to a different perspective is very hard. But like the veterans of the human race put it - time will heal all.

Just that nobody knows how long the time will take to heal, if at all.


For now, the mind is occupied with desires of evacuating ‘me’ from the lonesome walk, hand to hold on to the destiny, assuring one’s presence in the toughest tides. All in the mind but with no sign posts in the near vicinity.

It’s easy to build a hope in the mind, to build a castle in the air; but the feeling of the crumbling castles with the trembling hope is like a feeling of confining oneself into the sphere of vacuum, taking away the very breath of life.

No – I am still not hopelessly lost in what I write as above - but there is many a time when things don’t seem fitting in to the big picture. That’s when it’s the best time to go on a conversation with your own mind – as it should take over from the heart at denial.

No – I am still not a sailor who’s got no hope of finding the land. It’s just that whenever the wind blows your direction, it always seems like blowing from the direction of the one whom you want to be with. And when the wind touches your soiled sweaty face, that’s when you realize the coldness of the wind – blowing from the land of the one so close to you but still miles away from you.

And heck No – I am not under blessed by God. It’s just that I am still passing through the time, so called by the veterans of the human race, which too shall pass.

As the wise old man says “when it comes to certain emotions - there’s always something’s at your denial and yet nothing at your disposal”

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love and its madness

Love is felt in every possible ways and lost in every other possible way

-----Wise Old Man

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Tomboy - By Years

Scene 1

As she walked out of the bath room, just a towel adored her body. She called for her sisters to help her with the clothes and in return she found none in the vicinity. Confused and slightly agitated she started running around the house. Not a soul in the house. The door was left open and she saw few of her friends running across the streets towards the other side of the road. Instantly, she felt like running along with them. For her nature, a total tomboy, it didn’t matter in which state of presence she was in.

Wasting no time, she was seen running behind her male friends – who were in their obvious comfort zone of wearing just shorts and nothing else. A bunch full of half naked running across the road, crossing the slushy fields, saw their own joy in the cloudy afternoon. As she caught up with one of her friends she was excited to know that they were heading to a construction site – a small bridge in the making. It was replacing the old wooden bridge which held memories of her daily walk to the school. The sentiments of the wooden bridge overcast her excitement of the new construction.


As she approached the stream, she found her sisters standing in awe - witnessing the very reason for her loss of breath. However, the excitement didn’t last for more than few minutes when her sisters spotted her.

“What the hell do you think you are doing here – wearing just a towel?”

It was time for her to flee from the scene before she could get caught and be thrashed. Back in the same path – she started running like never before.

Thud!

Half way through in her rush back home, she fell over the fences which stood invisible to her eyes. Barb wire justified their presence in piercing her both the thighs with their sturdy nature. No pain! She resumed her sprinting to reach her safe zone – a secret place she sought to get away from her angry sisters.

Climbing the ladder to her secret place proved a little difficult that moment and she could feel that something was wrong. Finally when she saw the master work by the barb wires – she almost realized it would take a long time to heal. The white fluid ran down like tears from the wound and then followed by the blood. It took a good 3 months for the wound to completely heal before she could to get back to her normalcy.

Her act of semi nudity and rush of the hour proved to be expensive when the wound marks remained permanently sketched on both her thighs.

Age : 6.
Place : Udupi.
Bridge : Kalsanka
Year : 1958


Scene 2

Her attention was caught to sight a group of monkeys on the house rooftop. They were on the routine stroll to search for food. She rested her eyes on the tiny baby which was aimlessly following its mother. That moment, she knew she wanted to have that baby by her arms.

Plan in action. One of her mother’s stories reminded her of different ways to catch monkeys. She quickly ran through her options. A ladder by the wall, the roof was 20 feet high and there were 3 monkeys while the baby was now adventuring away from its mother. She climbed carefully while her sisters and mother watched her in shock. However they didn’t attempt to shout as they knew of the trouble she would face with the monkeys. She approached casually towards the monkeys while they were blissfully enjoying the plantain.

She sat on the roof – at a safe distance from monkeys and let her hair loose. This is one act which monkeys cannot resist to be away from. Unexplainable, but it’s the truth that this is one of oldest methods to catch monkeys. While she sat with her thick black hair shining in the mid afternoon, the baby made its move to approach the irresistible. It took some time to feel at ease before it climbed onto her shoulder and start searching for lice. It failed to notice its mother moving away in search of more food and leaving the vicinity.

After a while, it was trapped in her hands and was in panic to realize its captivity. She carefully took the baby down the ladder and gave it to her mother who was awe struck. Her mother, with prior experience of handling pets took no time to ease the baby and fed it from then on.

Months passed by and a special bond grew between her mother and the baby monkey which went on to become the best part of her life. Many a time the baby monkey became angry if any of the sisters approached their mother.

Learning the fact that the baby monkey was very attached to her mother, she left no chance to tease the baby by hugging her mother. One such instance, while the baby grew older to realize its anger, she was bitten on her back and reminding her not to mess around with the monkey.

Another mark went on to remain permanent on her body. This time it was her back with 4 deep mark of monkey’s anger.

Age : 18.
Place : Udupi.
Monkey name : Thimmi
Year : 1970



Scene 3


She woke up late that morning and was forced to sit in the music class taken by her father – the tabla maestro who took some time off to teach music to the interested souls. She always believed that she didn’t fit in there. Time and again she felt that God was unjust in placing her spirits in a girl’s body. While she sat in the class with no life, she heard her male friends shout and play “gilli danda” just outside the house. She dreaded every moment of learning the music when she could not be part of her gang thrashing their opponents in the game.

That morning she wanted to sneak out of the class and be a little more adventurous. An auto rickshaw was parked outside the house and she felt the sudden urge to ride the 3 wheeler. She realized that the vehicle belonged to one of the students and managed to convince him to lend the vehicle for a short ride. In the pretext of going to the rest room, she ran away from her father’s vision and finally had the auto at her disposal.

The vehicle roared at the 1st kick and she was there, holding the handle, with no prior experience of riding any vehicle. All she was banking on was the fearless confidence which made her stand out amongst her gang.

The 3 wheeler moved across the road, vaguely following a zig zag pattern. As the moments passed she felt at ease conquering the beast.

And then it happened.

She saw a passerby on the road and didn’t know how to stop the vehicle. Adding to her luck, the auto rolled effortlessly in the downward path. It was time to act now and how, she had no clue. But she followed her instincts which took a dramatic turn as the vehicle approached the stunned passerby. She had no choice left open and moved the handle quickly towards her left and went head on with an old tree. Auto toppled over the tree roots and she flew out of it onto the roads to get another art on her body. This time it was her arms. Realizing the passerby was safe and ignoring the pain she ran away to her secret zone – to hide from her father.

The auto lay in tears as the petrol spilled out of its tank and lost its glamour with few dents on its body.

Age : 21
Place : Udupi.
Auto make : unknown
Year : 1973


Scene 4


Since her childhood one aspect she couldn’t get away from was the cinemas – first day first show or any show. She was a quite a cinema-goer.

One of the late evenings she convinced her sister-in-law(sil) to join her for the last show of the day. By this time of the scene, she was married with 2 kids – girl of 2yrs and a boy of 1 yr old. She dressed her 2 kids, packed food for the babies and then along with her sil went off to the theatre.

In middle of the movie, her sil felt a hand moving on her back. To her shock it was one of those coming from the back seat. Instantly, sil told her of the situation and she calmly grabbed the hands in act and twisted the fingers until the scream became more obvious than the cinema dialogues. She then turned around, gave her baby boy to her sil and caught the rogue by his collar and removed her chappal and thrashed him to the floor.

As the guy got up to run away from the scene, she chased him to the door until the security guard caught the culprit and handed him over to the cops.

Fortunately this time she managed not to hurt herself, but the rogue would remember through his lifetime – not to mess around with the ladies.

Age : 29
Place : Udupi.
Movie : Babru Vahana
Year : 1981


Scene 5


New years evening. A date with her son, who for the 1st time since the last 16 years gave up his evenings spent with his friends on the New Years. Many instances remembered from her yester years. She spoke of her crazier days since the childhood, her memories from her tomboyish nature. She spoke of lot of things which invoked her past well lived and her happiness in seeing her life as is now.

Her son filled her beer mug and she raised a toast for her kid’s good health, who, now have grown up to handle their own life.

Cheers!

New Years eve was something she always wanted to spend with her kids, since they matured from their school days. Something her daughter always gifted her every New Years, until she was married off to begin a new life. And her son was always complaining of how dumb the idea was. This year was special to her, as her desire to spend the eve with her son was in action.

Rest of the evening went on talking. Her son spoke of his crushes - all lived in the past and she then teased him around of being known among the ladies. He spoke of the ongoing part of his presence now. They spent the eve with a whole lot of new meaning to each other’s life and a realization of how well the bond secures one another.

Cheers!

She relaxed herself on her newly gifted recliner. A peaceful smile lingered on her face while her eyes rested on the 3 red roses given by her date for the evening.


Age : 55
Place : Chennai.
Beer : King Fisher Premium
Year : 2007 and beginning of 2008


As the old wise man says “There is always a past to the present. A past filled with surprises, memories and life lived to its best. And then there are perfect moments when the past is sought after - to replenish the memories”

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Living

Bingo!!!

Bingo!!! Bingo!!!

What more can I ask for? There’s everything, from the materialistic aspects to the yearning needs of a human psyche.

However,

What is in abundance of invisibility is my aspect of living a fulfilled life.


Not materialistic, not camouflage of emotions … simple pleasures that are derived off anything but normalcy.

I hit the bed hoping for a peaceful night, and I wake up to the daylight with a tiresome look. Is that all? We close our eyes to a tiring day and are expected to wake up to a new beginning with a fresh and energetic vision. Alas, how many are those who envision this very aspect. And how many are those who follow me on the same tread path.

All I need is an embrace of living,
A need of belongingness,
A desire of being felt,
A capturer of my feelings,
A rupture of my emotions,
A lap to succumb my night to,
A hug to make me feel alive,
A kiss to make me feel wanted,
A life where I am known for what I am off,

I see a couple by the alley, with torn clothes, and stomach craved in for another day’s survival. But still, I see them exhibiting their affection with least botheration. As if they were unaffected of their surroundings and all they cared was for a life living with those moments of belongingness.

I’d trade my every part of materialistic aspects for that moment.

I’d swap my position to wear their torn clothes and feel their moment of being with each other.

It’s not the clothes that dictate our living, nor our lifestyle; I perceive the living to be, as a matter of fact, the feeling of happiness with another soul, who is supposedly a traveler from the planet of Venus.

Life is a game. And it’s a painting where one finds the grass is always greener on the other side. It’s a gamble where one is put at the stake of losing his ways of living for another way of feeling the pleasure. It’s up to him how he embraces the dictated.

For now, I don’t have any qualms of embracing that part of life where I see the grass is greener. What I need is a soul to whom I can weep my sorrows to, with whom I can hug my feelings with, with whom where I can sleep my worries on….

I need a soul who makes me feel wanted…. For, from then on, I can truly show that part of me where I can be totally felt the way I perceive of her.

I waited enough; show me your face, for I cannot live my life with your silhouette.

I waited enough,
Show me of your presence,
I longed for you more than my breath,
Show me your presence.

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Best Friend

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Perfectionism isn’t found in reality………….
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…………………. You loose to someone…..
…………………. You loose to someone….
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“How do you ask a person if he love’s you?”

“Simple – shoot the question” – guy’s perspective

“Now how do you ask a person if he happen to be your best friend? A friend who was there through thick and thin, was the one who knew for all the happiness felt, was the one who read mind before lips acted, was the one who, though distant apart, was still felt close?”

“Simple – shoot the question” – perspective never changes

“How is love expressed?”

(Best of all - question was shot at me)

“Hmmm… varied ways. Amongst friends, amongst kins, amongst couples…different ways”

“Do you love me?”

“Whhat? In what sense?”

“Every sense”

“You are a very good friend of mine. It’s just natural that our thinking falls on the same frequency – so it’s not difficult to understand each other’s mind. But that doesn’t fall into the conventional aspect of love. Love – the way you feel it now, is not reciprocated from my end. There can be no US apart from what we have now, ‘cos I like you for the way things are between us and would not loose it for anything that comes between us. But there is no US”

“But why not give it a try…there’s no hang ups in doing so, is there? If we don’t enjoy the relationship, we can pretend to be couple for the world and remain best friends and walk away when we need to and still have no hang ups as we understand each other so well. Let’s give it a shot”

“Whhat? Are you nuts? I would never put our long years of knowing each other into jeopardy. We are good the way we are and will remain the way we are.”

“I just thought that things can work out great between us - owing to the past knowing each other. Now that I know what your idea on it is, I’ll never feel bad that I didn’t ask my best friend of my opinion”

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Now My perspective………….

Many a time, the best friend is sought after to clean the mind with its adversities. It was her way of expressing her walk in the lonesome alley. It was her way of feeling wanted and felt for. It was her way of feeling loved. Because, at that juncture she stood naked to the world of insensitive minds, she laid down paralyzed with her unattended gesture of loving a person from the heart. She gave it all for that special relationship, for that perfect one and now she has all in the mind but nothing in reality. And the mind played its dramatic role of being a slow killer.

But if that sought out friend didn’t whack her mind and talk her off the momentary deviation, the years spent would not have been respected to in any levels of the horizon. He was sought out for the very reasoning of his behavior and he could not let it go unattended to.

Apart from being a best friend, he / she has to play the role of an entertainer, agony aunt, brother, sister, teacher, grand parents, etc. And sometimes best friends have to play the role of an enemy to evacuate other’s mind of any possible deviant, a role of a boyfriend / girlfriend to make that person understand that it’s not the end of all, a role in the vacuum to circumfuse the minds weird ways of working.

Like the wise old man says - “It’s better to loose the momentary feeling of loving one, when it is at the cost of loosing your best friend”




…………………………………..
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Perfectionism is not found in reality
………………………………………..
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………but……………………why is it that we have to loose to someone
……compromise with someone …..
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‘Cos that someone whom we loose to maybe close to perfection…..
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Perfectionism …exists …
………….it exists very much, in our mind
Unless we stop defining the very word perfectionism….
We will miss out on those who are the closest to the very word…...
It’s a choice left open!

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Random thoughts

Reveal everything about yourself and let the chips fall wherever they may.

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Candid Moments

“ Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you dear Khushi, Happy Birthday to you!”

That was it! It was there!!! It was so natural that even the cameras couldn’t keep their focus away to capture the perfect moment.

She smiled! With equal expression of delight and surprise, she smiled heartily. The place had an aura of celebration. And she knew it somehow that all of it was for her. Like a princess, she posed to halt the candid moments.

Smile - Click! Click!


No body could stop her and guess what no body wanted to! The smile was infectious and everybody plunged into the moment.

She was getting old! Yet another year old!

Sometimes we just don’t realize how the time flies. I can imagine the eager wait by the hospital lounge. Her father, keeping his fingers crossed, waiting in anticipation to hear the first cry of life. His first step ahead and so be called a father for rest of his life. Words of assurance mumbled within, prayers prayed in silence, a sense of joy equally perturbed by a sense of the unknown fear.

Suddenly! It all happened!

Waaah…. Waaaaah…wa…waaaaaahhhhhh

The lounge was filled with the cry of a new birth. A moment to cherish! He became a father. Apparently the 9 month wait yielded the best gift he could ever ask for.

The doors of the operation theatre opened dramatically, reflections of the light hit brightly from the specula placed in the room, slow instrumental track played in the background to soothe the environment and then the doctor came in a complete white gown holding the baby caringly in his arms. The entire scene was impeccable, as if the baby directly descended from the doors of heaven, assisted by the guardian angels.

“Congrats! You been blessed with a baby girl”

“Khushi beta, papa ko cake khilao”

Drawn back into the present celebration, I heard Khushi’s mother’s voice. It was now Khushi’s turn to feed her parents.

Her small fingers reached the table and managed to cut a tiny chunk of the cake.

“Papa – cake lio”

The traces of the cream stayed on her tiny fingers as she treated her father with the cake.

Click! Click! A mere perfect moment!

Many more clicking followed by and many more moments cherished well. One would not find it hard to see the cheerful smile on father’s face. Its then when I felt the deep secret wanting to burst out into the light – I want to hold my own angel, guide her through the struggling walk, make her taste the 1st spoon of cerelac, carry her on the back and for a change pretend to be a elephant without any shame, make her sleep on my lap and the best of all listen to her when she complains of her mother.

The camera zoomed in on the candle – melting from the top, number 2 in orange and yellow just going down. She was yet another year old!

Click! Click!

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"No Smoking"

“NO SMOKING “- aesthetically placed reminders every nook and corner of the airport.

Damn!

Why is it that Airport authority in India, restrict people who want to smoke before boarding the flight or in the flight? Or be it even the Railways. Strict Rules you see!

I didn’t have an option but to throw the pack of cigarettes into the thrash bin.

Yeah, yeah ... I know, you would be thinking of 101 reasons as to why a person should smoke at all. But you gotta be a smoker. A smoker to understand the urge to smoke when one wants to take a break from anything, when the temperature drops down to a pleasant climate, when the day calls in for pooling in extra hours on the work front, killing time while waiting for someone who was late in arrival, the pleasure in the last puff and a lot of reasons to which the non smokers would never relate to.



“OK…that's enough! Enough of giving lame reason as to why one should smoke” - Ahaan! Don't assume that I didn't read your mind. It's a never ending debate between the smokers and non smokers, but still people do what they want to … detest smoking or enjoy smoking. Choice is left open!

Initially I hated smoking, couldn't even be in the vicinity of a smoker. Hated the smokes and the smell….argued about it….cursed people who smoked in the public…felt how unethical of them to do so when the place is equally entertained by the non smokers as well. Just because of someone enjoying blowing out the curl of smokes in the air, non smokers had to avoid being there. How ethical is that? Thoughts were then.

My best friend started smoking, since the class 8th. Then, it was the Style Factor which led him to convince us, the Pandavas (so called in the school as we were 5 in number and were inseparable) of how smoking is cool thing to do during the schooldays. (Doubting whether the reason changed for any good in the present generation school going kids) He (not to mention his convincing abilities to even embrace Satan in the name of God) convinced us to try once of the immense pleasure a smoke would give oneself. A bunch of school kids, with untidy uniforms, we hit off riding our cycles post the school hours.

Have to mention here of my 1st cycle... Atlas! There you go again, thoughts can be so predictable…read your mind again and NO ways! I was born in 80's not in 60's…just that my uncle somehow was convinced that an Atlas would do me good. Pity me; nobody would have succeeded in changing my uncle's beliefs the time he bought me the cycle. And for 2 full years, I had to cover up my sobbing state (Ego mind, I couldn't ignore that, can I?) whenever I looked at those from the provision stores carrying the groceries to be home delivered or the vendors selling guava in the colony. Thanks to my uncle, he put me into the same league. Boo - hoooo (don't take it literally, this is just for some added spice in the story)


Ok...Deviated! Shifting back to the main topic.

With a sense of adventure, we bought a pack of Gudhangaram, country made cigarettes. They were clove and cinnamon flavored and was chosen as they didn't smell like the usual ciggies. After all we still had to face our parents post school and we couldn't screw up our reputation and loose our only source of income...weekly pocket money. I somehow was inclined to call it Udhagamandalam, as I found the original name very confusing. Don't! Don't ask me to explain how the adopted name made it simplified. I was then a school kid. Nevertheless, we straight away went to our secret meeting point. Yes; like all the kids, we also had a secret place and it was called Chikka Betta Halli (small mountain village - literal translation), a small hilly area near the layout. It was the only place where we were ourselves and not the victims of societal inhibits. It was the place where we had kept our secrets concealed. Also it served as the place for our new frontiers. We always ensured that the place was visited everyday and we discussed on various topics ranging from girls, girls, studies, girls, girls, crushes, girls, boring school, girls, parties, drinking, girls, parental restrictions, our dreams, girls, career ahead, girls again.

Well now that you know of the various topic of our interest, let's get going with the smoker's adventures.

Needless to say, Joe did the opening act and taught us how to hold the ciggies (yeah… In Style!). In matter of seconds, the ciggies were lit and then …… uhhho….uhho.. uhhoo.. uhhooo. Ahem… starting trouble you see.

I went awry over the taste and the smell of the ciggies. Decided instantly that they were not made for me! But had to keep up my reputation of not being the odd man out, I went on to finish the entire smoke. Bham Bham Bholenath!! Small in size but the smelly stick managed to give a complex even to a steam engine.

Ever wondered what happens to one on finishing the 1st smoke of the lifetime. It seems that eyes go blur, coughs recur every 10 seconds, feel thirsty, feel elated, a dramatic sense of mission accomplished, and this and that. Well, all of them happened to me as well. Along with which there was guilt somewhere in the distant corner of my mind and a fear of what if caught, at the same time a yahoo feeling of trying the smoke as well. (For the record, I have this mission of trying anything and everything atleast once in my lifespan. If I like, I stick on to it and if I don't then it becomes history). In pace with the Pandavas, I was looking at the smokes swirling into yet another haze, yet another ciggie lit.

Something happened!

Someone was there!

I knew it, something was wrong. My intuitions were crying out loud to be heard. None bothered. There was a deep sense of fear that something was about to happen. But all I could see was rest of them, blowing out the carbon content in style, while still believing that they were part of this major mafia scene and would shoot at any one on sight.

For sometime my friends caught me rubbing my eyes, they being completely unaware of the disaster in front of me. My act was purely to wake myself from the haze and to ensure what I saw was in real blood and flesh. Sigh!!! They were.

Thud!

Ouch!

“Beversi gala! Eno madhtha iddheera??” (Bastards! What are you doing??)

All I could think was “What the heck? Where did he come from? Oh no! He is not alone, he is with another disaster”

2 hawaldar's were actually standing infront of us, beating their lathi's on the adjacent rock and I was shitting bricks. At the same time I was laughing within at the comical expressions on rest of Pandavas faces. I knew somehow I'd remember this day forever in my life.

It seemed like our guardian angels had taken a break from us, out there somewhere blowing out smokes in circles and In Style. If not, why on earth would these cops come to a distant hill and catch us of all the bad guys out there tormenting the normal life? All we did was have some pure boyish fun in exhaling the smokes. Was that bad? For sure, our angels seemed to have lit yet another Udhagamandalam, absolutely no sign of them!!

It turned out to be that Hawaldar's were not making enough money on their regular strolls and they somehow came to know of few boys visiting this place very often. This was their time to cater to their greedy (and as per them needy) pockets. And guess what, we were the scapegoats and best of all we were caught red handed or should I say smoke handed. All of a sudden we were the culprits, joining the league of hardcore criminals. Thanks to Udhagamandalam! And special thanks to Joe. I owed him big time to face this situation….arrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!

Then followed the mangala aarthi(a grandeur worship, related to prayers offered to God. The context of the verbal usage in here fits into a deep sarcasm) - being slapped by those beasts, held by the collar, and almost being taken to the police station. What the F***? Finally one of the Pandavas broke down and knelt on his knees and started crying like never before. Before even you think of anything, let me say for the record, it wasn't me! Ever wondered how the sentiments, tears and pleading; bow down the angered beast. It clicked. Our coward Pandava 4(Deepak) seemed to the Hero of the day and our savior. The cops actually gave in only to realize that they were expecting the moolah!(money u dumbhead ).

Pandava 1(Joe) : “hey I have Rs 7/- … spent the rest on the ciggies man”

Pandava 2(MRP) : “damn! My fate..had to fight with my dad yesterday itself…I walked with no money in hand… u guys have to manage”

Pandava 3(Vinay) : “well I have Rs 28/- .. saved it for the weekend rum drinking. Guess I don't have much of a choice. Lets give it all”

Pandava 4(Deepak) : boo hoo (still crying his lungs out) “ I am left with Rs 12 /- but need Rs 3/- to get my cycle chain fixed. Its too loose and I can't ride properly”

Pandava 1(Joe) : “Basket, Fish your chain and your problems, we are dealing with a bigger problem here. Get all your money out and for God sake shut your trap”

Pandava 4(Deepak) : “Fish you!!” Boo Hoo…..Crying continues.

Pandava 5 (Me) : “guys … I spent all my money to get that valentines card for her man. How I wish I delayed buying the card. Aint having any money on me. Wait…. I have 1 Rs and 25 paise. If that's gonna help”

Mathematics came into picture. And guess what … all of us forgot how to count…obviously the credit goes to the guys from the Kourava group. All the money with the change was handed over to them. And the offering was accepted with rude remarks and a threat to jail us if caught next time.

Hmmm… at times even if the offerings are given from the bottom of the heart, it is never received to its best. The greed takes over the humble efforts or was it an effort to cover up our so called mistakes. I didn't even want to think in those lines.

We were shooed away from the hills and were left with a warning of not to visit the place in the future ever. Walking away from the scene, we heard the distant chuckles behind us. Yes it was their day!

Our cycles were parked in the bottom of the hill and we somehow gathered all the strength to run towards the cycle to get the hell out of there. And to our shock, the tyres were flattened. It was indeed a well made plan.

Since then I decided smoking as one of the things I didn’t like and was history to me. Managed to keep the same belief for a long time. Every party attended, every person met I was for sure voting for the non smoking campaign.

But like the wise man says all things happen for a reason. I took onto smoking, this time not for the Style sake. It was for a total different reason. I left everybody shocked with my decision. Guess it’s hard to digest that someone opposing so much would cling on to it every moment.


“Good Morning! This is Nadia from Emirates Airlines and you are about to land in Dubai. Request you all to fasten the seat belts. The weather outside is very humid and the temperature is 41 degree…blah, blah…more blah, blah…. Thank you and Have a nice day!”

Sometimes, one just doesn’t realize as to how the time flies when gone on a deep diving into the past, digging all the pleasant memories. The flight journey indeed seemed short.

I stopped by the sign board to help myself out of the airport.


• Duty Free Shops
• Rest Rooms
• Smoking Zone
• Exit


Bingo!!! Everything was placed in order!

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5 simple pleasures

* rains and getting drenched ... be it a walk on the beach or the simple roof top

* driving to nandi hills especially in the midnight and watching the city glow from the tip of the rock

* sitting anywhere, literal meaning of it, anywhere, with my best pals and just spending time..be it talking .. singing...irritating...or just doing nothing

* relaxing on the bean bag and sipping a ice cold beer on a Sunday afternoon, watching a nice movie in the television...with or without company

* watching friends every morning 6:30 am (weekdays in star world) and feeling happy that i have such equal gud friends

Now its time to list yours too and you need to ask 2 other people to list them too :)

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knock knock

'Knock Knock'

the door was left unanswered!

ever wondered how does it feel??

an exorbitant silence in the foreplay

The world saw me exhale my last puff for the day..... phooof

Naqaab ... the movie failed to charm my normalcy... but naqaab the existence is dominant enough to be believed ....

Intuition's .... sometimes it relieves oneself.....and sometimes it kills a being ....

thoughts .... were left untold ... buried into its own motherland.....all it needed was a ear to hear...phew.... thoughts again was left unheard ....

Intuition's .... sometimes .... the bleedy soul just goes unnoticed.

hmmm...

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