27th October 2007

Hippy burday to Me!

Twenty Six is the new Thirty.. so befitting the same was a staid lunch to celebrate...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=18061&id=517531598

Right.

the dichotomy of me

they say... balance is key... to anything.. peoples, nations relationships... life itself, in all its abundance and glory...

they say the only thing that is constant is change... an ever turning wheel.. and as the wheel wills.. some things may yet fall under the light...

in rude disregard to a world's light gone out he posts again.. but those who know also know this blog is for him alone... as is his tribute to him.. for me...

simplicity is the answer... he thought to stop for he had nothing left unsaid...

all things change.. he has new things to say now... new dribbles...

winter comes to his home... she is dressed as a dark unknown woman... her body wraps around him.. time is without end... her hair.. wisps of nostalgic serenity brush against him.. and all that was is again... if only for that instant... i am myself.. the petulant child.. the erring young man.. the courageous lad.. an unsure adult.. a triumph of situation and a calvainian upstart.. who writes as all men must.. his own destiny.. undeterred and unpretentious...

the wind howls.. a low and base cry... of something deep and good and forgotten but not entirely... of a time.. when the winds arose in another place.. another time, maybe another eventuality...

he shivers and pulls himself closer.. he wished he had a cloak.. of strong lamb's wool.. he laughs at himself for this paltry grasp at fantasy... almost laughs...

it smells of rain, or he wishes it would.. one never can tell.. of hope and of love patiently waiting its turn to surprise even the most cynical of minds.. he wishes it would rain.. so he could cry and laugh out.. soaking and breathing pure ecstatical life...

but the winds are dry.. and raspy...they seem to snatch his thoughts... how easy life goes on him.. most of the time...

shorter story... no love no glory..
no hero in her sky...*

he cant get his mind of her.. he has no one else to find...

to want is to exist... to need is to live.. to have is to be alive.. to have what one wants is bliss.. to have what one needs is peace...

he feels at peace...

he is made of extremes.. completely at peace or in a state of constant flux with all the universe...

there is no other...

to constant strife and courage of conviction... or to granted peace settled...

he smiles.. a half smile...

too many minds.. too many thoughts.. so much for the wind to snatch...

par dukhe upkaar kare to man abhimaan na aae re.. **

he quotes his political Satan and spiritual ideal..

dichotomy is every thing.. balance is but an illusion of dichotomy.. the exception that proves the rule..

is darkness whole in itself or an absence of light.. or is light an absence of darkness.. do we come from nothing and return to it.. ashes to ashes dust to dust or does the master plan a plan that eludes the doubting mind.. ye of little faith..

so many questions.. the pity is not that there are no answers.. but that there aren't enough questions..

dubito ergo cogito... cogito ergo sum.. ***

something out of the corner of his eye... a fleeting glimpse of a half truth brings him back..

the wind will be his undoing..

so will thinking too much

but he cant stop... he cant deny descartes.. specially in the windmill of his mind.. he hums a few bars off the song..

like the circles that u find... ****

he shuffles his feet.. footprints in the sand..

oh jaan... this changes nothing..! it is real.. as real as we make it...

and suddenly it is still.. a calmness

some thoughts can stop the world from spinning.. his world.. his dichotomous selfish little world..
balance.... finally.

aham bhavani yuge yuge...*****

*cf: The Blower's Daughter, Damien Rice
**cf: Vaishnav Jan to Tene Kahiyaj, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi
***cf: 'I Doubt Therefore I think, I think therefore I am' Rene Descartes
****cf: Windmills of your Mind, Alan & Marilyn Bergman & Michel Legrand
*****cf: 'I am Reborn in Every Age', Lord Krishna to Arjun, Bhagvad Gita

an ending....

In Memory of

.

James Oliver Rigney, Jr.

Robert Jordan

.

17 October 1948 to 16 September 2007

.

A great light has gone out today, and with it I am afraid this shall be my final post on this blog...

All that was left unsaid has been said in so many ways... while some things should remain...

.

There are no beginings or endings to the turning of the Wheel but it is an ending.

.

Dovie'andi se tovya sagain

second guessing eventuality...

is mod se agle mod talakh... humko bhi saathi chalne de...
haar aur jeet to hoti hai.. khel to yaaron khelne do...*

i've always held that life is a journey.. to be sucked dry.. that the sheer gamut and vastness of experiences holds more in it.. than most of our imaginations can even begin to comprehend... that just living is enough... through pain through heartbrake.. jobs... people... cities... relationships... they come they go.. come around goes around.. and u move on.. head held high.. and a sense of purpose..

tell me how he died...
i will tell you how he lived...**

but i will say this... it feels good to put my head on her shoulder and know that i am loved...

cynicism has been good to me.. its made me realise the value of taking this step that i have.. i cherish this moment.. of happiness.. so much more. because even though i've spent the last two and half years running away from it at every possible occasion.. i've yearned for it with all my soul...

to belong.. to be here.. to wake up knowing.. she's mine...

i never imagined that i would be able to willingly let myself be vulnerable again.. now that i know that i am... it doesn't scare me so much anymore.. it makes me smile instead...

its a world of possibilities.. lets go exploring...***

it really is...

hi... so we should catch up then... when im in delhi next... heres my number...

mocha... conversation... sumthing...

endless conversations about music.. and each other.. endless messages about absolutely nothing.. rain.. lyrics.. events.. nothing.. everything....

a delhi trip... a disaster.. followed up by another not so much a disaster as a release...

you could have atleast picked up the phone.. i musta called a million times.. too much emotion.. to confusing.. walk away.. best to just walk away.. can you...?

silence....

more sheesha... more alcohol... hukkah.. lbw... confusion.. a statement to break a heart.. and another one to give it hope.. all at the same time... walk away... jus walk away... did i?

lbw again.. revelation.. coming full circle...

would you go out with me? heart racing.. hands shivering.. and her smile that frightens and calms me down all at the same time.. a little nod.. sumthing happy about it.. something of an eventuality we both knew we'd come to always...

facebuk reaffirmations and sercpico... jus the right words and a frineds smile...

you should never try and second guess the possibility of eventuality...

ek subah ek mod par main ne kaha use rok kar
haath badha ae zindagi... aankh milaakar baat kar

roz tere jine ke liye
ek subah mujhe mil jaati hai
murajhaati koyi shaam agar to
raat koyi khil jaati hai
main roz subah tak aata huun
aur roz shuru karata huun safar
haath badha ae zindagi... aankh milaakar baat kar****

*cf: Hip Hip Hurray, Hip Hip Hurray, 1984
**cf: The Last Samurai, 2003
***cf: Calvin's Last Words to Hobbes, 2006
****cf: Ek Subah, Hip Hip Hurray, 1984

some things just are... III

some things just are...

exhaustion... exhalation... exasperation... some things just are.. and you can't twist the thread of life.. ta'veren or not.. not to yourself.. not by sheer will...

every man does make his own destiny.. but we all do also have to play the hand we're dealt.. the best we can... tackle life head on...

the nicest drizzle descended on my part of home the other day... the kind that you could stand in without shirking... and smile.. while the pinpricks tickled your sensibilities into submission...

the little things.. that mean so much..

well it seems that everything is sort of falling into place all over again.. and it does look like its got some future..

as long as we have our sheesha and alcohol i think things will always happen enh....

but it does kind of feel good to be in a commitment again... it feels good to belong... part of a larger whole..

we come full circle on this one p... i lean against the wind and in this moment i am happy...

Jai Hind...

kuchh kar guzarne ko khoon chala khoon chala
aankhon ke sheeshe mein utarne ko khoon chala
badan se tapak kar, zameen se lipat kar
galiyon se raston se
ubharkar, umadkar
naye rang bhar ne ko khoon chala khoon chala
khuli-si chhot lekar, bari-si tich lekar ahista ahista
sawaalon ki ungli, jawaabon ki mutthi sang lekar Khoon chala
kuchh kar guzarne ko khoon chala khoon chala*

Happy 60th to my fellow contrymen... it's special in a rewarding kind of way how now more than ever I feel Indian... a proud Indian... Jai Hind.

*cf: Khoon Chala, Rang de Basanti, Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra Productions

can't take my mind off you....

you're my weakness she said... what is a weakness... its harmful.. it gets you into trouble.. makes u do things you dont want.. its not love.. its not even real.. its selfish.. so selfish and prude... weakness...*

anahat would like to retract this thoughtless and childish outburst... lets write it all over again. with some more insight...

you're my weakness she said... i heard her.. and my heart skipped.. it was the perfect thing to say.. there.. like that.. holding her... it was like the slightest shiver... yet i knew.... she was jus being honest... and i couldn't grudge her that.. she hadn't promised me anything.. rather she had warned.. sinister words.. brave words... i hadn't listed, didn't want to... no fault but mine...

it still felt the world to hear those words.. and echo them in my own heart....

but all that's in the past now...

bygones...

i was talking to an old friend last night... after about eight years we were talking.. really talking.. and she asked me to brief her on what in god's name i'd been doing for the last five yrs i'd been away... and after all the drama and the sympathy hogging.. she said.. u know.. wait for it.. until ur good and ready.. and when u are... itll be perfect..

she may already be right.. id said.. more right than she knew.. more right than I was letting on...

life.. has an extremely sick sense of humour.. but its also strangely generous at times.. its pretty much a goes around comes around sort of setup... is someone puling the strings? who'se to say.. but sometimes it seems to me the 'coincidence' portrays a consciousness of some sort behind it all.. but thats for another time and another post...

time... pepperoni pizza and distraction heals all... i've had more than my fair share of each...

i'm ready...

so like a wise young man said to me once on a train journey through the real india... we shall soon see... **

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to Leave it all behind?
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you***

*cf: A Season of Faith's Imperfection, Things Left Unsaid, Anahat Arora
**cf: Dr. Karthik Ramanna Ph. D, during the Azad Bharat Raial Yatra 1997
***cf: The Blower's Daughter, Damien Rice

Measure in Love... contd...

ive decided to fill the vortex with feeble words.. I still don't feel i should write anything on this post... but i've decided anyway... how do u measure what someone means to you.. how can you capture the butterfly effect of a million a billion instances.. intricately woven into the web of life... each string a memory... a fate... a destiny... each tug each bend decisions to be made.. courage.. to make them.. and to face the outcome... it seems impossible to explain.. to comprehend.. to understand.. but an attempt must be made.. what is human life.. lives... if not an attempt to understand why and what now...

every step you took, every mistake you made again and again and called yourself a fool for it and still went ahead an made it again.. every life you live simultaneously all those masques.. always changing.. always acting.. reacting.. never really just being.. you...

and it comes down to this... you cant measure a life.. a life you've shared.. a night a week a lifetime.. you just can't you can... as mr. rice put it so beautifully.. love.. thats all you can really do... love life... that'll teach you grown ups struggling with numbers.. measure in love...

how much you loved?.. how deeply.. how real was it... how much did it hurt.. was it worth it.. these are the questions you should ask... and you'll know... whats important.. whats impacted you.. who...

and then you can sit back one night.. half asleep not really awake and write about it.. names.. places.. memories.. etched forever in your life.. how will you be measured...? in love? will you match up...

will they say... he lived completely.. loved and hurt completely.. or...

thats all you need to know.. and.. and... then you can just be....

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!*

*cf: If, Rudyard Kipling

Measure in Love...

how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died.
Measure it... in love.*

*cf: Seasons of Love: Rent, Tim Rice

some things just are... II

oh! life is bigger its bigger than you, and you are not me
the lengths that i would go to, the distance in your eyes

oh no! i've said too much, I haven´t said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing,
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try*

u know how sometimes u should just keep your trap shut.. about how its a harmless little joke inside your head until you see the look on the persons face who just heard it and its like the unsatiable arrow that you cant take back... hmmm yeah... that one.. well events of last night have affirmed my belief in tact.. in discretion and in keepin your bloody trap shut...

any way it comes to point that people.. read me... sometimes jus forget that when its said about you its not that funny.. its not easy to just let it go and realise ppl just like talking.. it hurts.. and the more of an emotion driven fool u are.. the more it hurts.. the more you think about it and the more you veer onto cynical.. jus when you thought you were out.. the slightest comment can just pull you back into the dismal deluge of deary depression...

it can ruin your night and make you become all careful and suspicious.. who.. why.. why.. why..

anyway..... in other news... ive been in delhi three moths now.. and im liking it.. honestly.. yes i do miss bombay and a few ppl.. i miss some of the places you could get a drink without being anybody or somebody.. i miss not being judged at every step.. but the vanity kicks in and i dont mind eventually...

but its good to be home.. among the familiar.. among the new.. and yet familiar... among the similar.. something about the intoxicating combination of the familiar and the similar thats overpowering..

eventually we all need to grow and spread our wings and be who we can and do what we want and not just what we must and explore this world and these times.. but eventually we all come back to the familiar.. to familia..

And you can swallow, Or you can spit, You can throw it up, Or choke on it
And you can dream, So dream out loud* *

sometimes it is quite the struggle.. loneliness.. peers.. pretend parties and frivolous flirting.. serious work and non serious working.. playing the part and having others play for you... and sometimes its just all so easy.. so natural.. so who i am and where i want to be.. existence is such a tight rope walk sometimes.. no rest no let up no reprieve.. keep walking...

And if the clouds bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the Dark Side Of The Moon***

change.. always change.. something someone somewhere somehow... always evolving.. living.. taking in.. processing.. learning.. keenly.. growing.. changing..

we live our lives one moment to the next unsure of what we want and who we are and what we need.. we're twentyfivesixseven and we think we know so much.. we dont even know ourselves.. not always not really... love.. life.. live.

let it be.. let it go.. its not so important. to know.. always know.. somethings just are..

left best unknown
unsaid...

*cf: Losing My Religion, REM
**cf: Acrobat, U2
***cf: Brain Damage, Pink Floyd

give me....

i don't expect my love affairs to last for long
never fool my self that my dreams will come true
being used to trouble
i anticipate it
but all the same i hate it
wouldn't you...*

i love you she said... you hardly know me.. how long has it been.. a few weeks.. its just a crush.. bit of a fancy.. infatuation.. you'll get over it.. you might as well.. there's nothing here... i am reformed... how cruel.. how sharp...

time and time again i've said that i don't care
that i'm immune to gloom
that i'm hard through and through
but every time it matters
all my words desert me
so any one can hurt me.. and they do...*

you never call.. is it just the sex.. i don't know... i cant say.. i do like you.. but its never gonna be more than that.. maybe its not fair.. maybe its good u'r going on vacation.. come back.. we'll talk.. we'll figure it out.. something.. somehow.. i am reformed... how cruel.. how sharp...

call in three months time and i'll be fine i know
well maybe not that fine but i'll survive anyhow
i wont recall the names and places of this sad occasion
but that no consolation
here and now...*

you didn't even say bye.. dude.. i was outta it.. come on... sometimes the slightest thing can be such a sore.. its of course so much more pronounced if you're an oversensitive..living life on a tightrope... OCDing Scorpio... but still... its jus about sensitivity.. people are just becoming so cruel... so.. blase.. so sharp... deja vu.. full circle.. goes around comes around...

all through my mad days
my mad existence
i kept my promise don't keep your distance...**

have i said to much.. have i thought aloud again.. more than i should have.. do i have to correct your diction.. wipe the table.. be a bitch.. point out a bad colour combo or dress or shoes.. do i have to have to have to have to... no.. but i will.. i do.. i shall..

so it has passed and so have men done...

how do you deal with the flakiness.. and the loneliness.. two sides to the same coin.. pick one.. stay with yourself or live in the real world.. be a recluse or be a peer.. there is no middle ground.. there is no familiarity.. it isn't real.. this is life not a hallmark moment..

this is merlin... he comes to save us... he will bring the people back to the old ways...***

close the lights... hold me.. *sob.. why are you crying... its just that its all so fleeting.. i'm gonna go back and you're gonna carry on.. aren't you.. yeah probably.. but we have now.. and here and this and it is real.. it's not made up.. it exists...

it took time to understand the man.. but now at least i know.. i know him so well...****

another beer.. hell yeah.. another buzz to forget the obvious.. the pain the anguish.. the complications.. the failures and the life we live.. the lives we live.. all of them.. the son.. the colleague.. the friend.. the lover.. the luster.. the loser.. the bitch.. the cabana boy.. the pushover.. the brother.. the kid.. the boy.. the man..

give me one more time to let go...
give me one more time to understand..
give me one more hour to breathe..
give me one more minute to exist...
give me one more night to regret...
give me one more time to cry...
give me one more memory to forget...
give me one more mistake to remember...
give give give....*****

purge. destroy. burn. live............ breathe. die. pain. message. click. smile. infinity.

*cf: Another Suitcase in Another Hall, Tim Rice, Evita
**cf: Don't Cry For Me Argentina, Tim Rice, Evita
***cf: Queen Mab, Merlin, Hallmark
****cf: I Know Him So Well, Tim Rice, Chess
*****cf: Give, Anahat Arora

a season of faith's imperfection*

I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds
Strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...
I wish you were here**

what do you do?.... findamentally do... when you know that person you love.. loves someone else... how do you tackle it.. what words of consolation do you offer your heart as you drift away into thought and imagine that one night... the night of many lifetimes... pure passsion... pure and real in a way that feels like playing with wet clay.. base and beautiful...

sometimes you get a phonecall and your life turns upsidedown.. sometimes you go for a sheesha and drinks and existance decides to blink.. atlas shrugs... chaos reigns...

to feel that you want something that you cant have is a crazy thrill in its own way... forbidden...

but she said no guilt... strange that...

you're my weakness she said... what is a weakness... its harmful.. it gets you into trouble.. makes u do things you dont want.. its not love.. its not even real.. its selfish.. so selfish and prude... weakness...

the absolute irony of it all is that i cant imgaine what i like about her so much... except for the intellect.. and the kindness in her eyes.. and... oh dear.. the absolute irony is that i do like her so much...

always forward... never look back.. no regrets.. meet life head on.. carpe bloody diem.. all shatters with one smile... one little tilt of the head and the kindness in those mischeveous eyes...

embrace it.. live it.. love it.. be pure to it.. and life will show you experiences like you cant believe... from broken hearts to the pure ecstacy of that touch... tender...

pouring always pouring.. giving.. letting out.. closure.. letting go.. tumbling free wheeling gonna be more gonna do more.. always more..

love will find a way.. love actually is... believe it... you have to.. no choice but to...

may even find a way... its possible..

nothings impossible.. peter pan..

leave it to faith... faith.. a season of possibilities.. of nature and youth and laughter.. her laughing eyes.. a season of faith... of faiths imperfection and a broken heart...

*cf: Finding Forrester, Columbia Pictures, 2000
**cf: I Wish You Were Here, Incubus

now... all set...

phonecalls can be intimidating... you get them.. all the time.. the ones you dont want to take.. the ones you wish you hadn't taken.. the ones you wish you hadn't missed.. caller-id from hell... you know how you can get a phonecall and it turns your world upside down...

all these memories come tumbling out.. all the pain.. all the expectations.. all the mistakes.. all the hope.. so whaddya do.. u sit it out.. and smoke some sheesh.. have a cold glass of water.. send some sms'.. distract yourself.. and maybe if you're lucky it buries itself away until she calls again.. or maybe thats just the way its supposed to be.. you live your life from one rush of feeling to another.. pain.. pleasure.. same old same old.. and you enjoy it.. take it all in and take a deep breath.. and smile..

ohhh.. in some other news.. ive moved into my new apartment in delhi.. its in nizz east and it a whole lot of life coming full circle.. kit kat's chicken burgers.. om's butter chicken.. aap ki khaatir's kaakori.. familiar roads.. familiar turns.. sights and sounds.. so its a cozy little place.. the pdp is wall mounted.. the dish works.. and i have broadband again.. all set.. oh and thanks to prince paan i have a new sheesh.. now.. all set..

so phonecalls and coming home and new apartments in familiar settings and losing bombay and coming back to friends who seem so real but you cant tell cause you havent been around to new friends who dont know how messed up you are in the head and havent adjusted to dealing with you all over again.. moving towns can be trying...

here's to a happy landing...

I'm blogging on the plane back home.. ok now I am excited.. which is why Im bloggin on the plane.. of course this is just a notebook file and Im gonna have to cutcopypaste the piece but what the helll...

Ok so firstly the freedom of all those client calls.. its exhillarating... then meeting Gopikaa yesterday evening in Mumbai just set the tone for the weekend.. Im home... to my frineds.. to family to familiarity... Even Akshu sms'd saying welcome back! My first sms from him in the 10 years cellphones have been around! haha just kidding...

I was talkin to Donny as he congratulated me on my move back from 'this rat hole' to 'rajma chawal' as he put it.. and I was telling him how Ill probbaly be sick of the damn place in a month but what the hell... nothings perfect.. well except for onion pink cherry blossoms in winter and al fakheer gold aniseed... but then thats a different story all together... oh BTW i have abandoned my sheesha in Mumbai! giftd it away... imagine that shite!
dedigressing... nothings perfect and it could just be a matter of the least likely to kill you...

Chennai was a nightmare which turned into a slow moving disparity.. Mumbai was a whirlwind which became a tedious repetition of travel interrupted by night clubs and lounge bars... Lets see what Delhi's like this time around...

here's to a happy landing...

an ode to sunshine...

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There's always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight*

*snip... a few years gone by... pilani and conversations under shaded tree lined walks...quizzical introductions...

diwali.. the festival of whiskey shots lights taash and broken payals...

ihc... swimming the summer away... on the lawns in front of american diner.. a huge crush... the fuzzz of unfamiliar niceness...an unusual woman.. a beautiful woman.. strong independent and proud.. oh so proud.. and a little obtuse... but so easily carried away and so easy to fall in love with.. so easy to believe that she could fall...

of a smile to die for and eyes to drown in...

messages and fleeting conversations... balcony of the library.. black coffee and sugar doughnuts... and eliot.. seth.. woolf... the play of light and darkness and a fascination ever growing...

lsr annual day... compromises and smiles.. the rock show and big chill...

midnight conversations and ministry of sound... possessiveness and the nicest sense of something that can be...

turtle cafe and reality... confusion and hurt.. mistaken intentions.. or convenient altercations of priorities.. giving second chances... and snatching possibilities...

life carries on.. and people come and go.. taking of michelangelo..

msn.. and the typing of closely held outbursts...

celebrity weddings at the taj... impressing the parents.. missed dinners.. desert counters... and forgiveness that will never come..

weekend trips and rock concerts... beer dwelling creatures of mojos and pecos... missing reality and rushed goodbyes...

endless messages about nothing...

an ode to sunshine... to a possibility... never explored never given a chance.. an ode to chance..

an ode to a possibility still...

an ode to love.. and little posts of scribbling your mind for the world to read and judge... and forgotten birthdays..

We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
Where are we going, so far away
And somebody told me that this is the place
Where everythings better, everythings safe
Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone
And half and hour later we packed up our things
We said wed send letters and all those little things
And they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same
It seemed theyd already forgotten wed came**

*cf: Angel, Sarah McLachlan
**cf: Walk on the Ocean, Toad the Wet Sproket

a little pile of goodbyes

sitting here... on this bed ive called home for the last twenty months or so.. and i see bare walls where memories hung.. and empty tables and shelves where identities were stacked in particular orders... lots of packed boxes and packets.. string tied and brown tape tight.. a life packed into a little heap of luggage...things bought things borrowed things stolen and things thought lost... all in a little pile of goodbyes...

leaves u a certain emptiness.. no matter how much ive been wanting to leave.. now that i finally am.. it does prick a little.. a little uneasiness.. this itch in the throat that isnt harmful but does keep cuming up every once in a while... my only sense of reality and entertainment remains here under my fingers.. as i type away another chapter not of this blog.. but of my life.. as is meant to be.. as i move on to bigger brighter memories.. experience the sense of loss.. not of places.. and familiarities but of people.. people met and people not met enough.. people loved and people not loved honestly.. people forgotten.. and people who i wish i could forget.. but cant... people people people.. isnt life a series of associations.. places and priorities yes.. but mostly people.. on a string i tirade the phantasmagoria of these people.. like running through your phonebook and sending those.. hey long time kiddo.. whats the scene messages every once in a while in a desperate attempt to hold onto associations as you skip places and cities and jobs and priorities and time time time always gnawing away at all of these.. clawing and trying so hard to hold onto some semblance of reality of what was what is and what will be...

the wheel of time turns and the ages come and pass
until memory fades to legend, legend to myth and even myth is long forgotten
when the age that gave its birth comes again...
in an age yet to come.. an age long past..*

i sigh.. a long sigh of goodbye to my soulful mumbai...

*cf: The Eye of The World, Book 1 - The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan

where you most hope for it...

dont fight it... jus give in... ive realised over the years and in the past few days... there are three things you cant fight.. gravity... those who love you/those you love and random urges... its pointless i tell u... go ahead jus lie down.. jus listen.. and jus indulge...

or you'll wake up one day with a broken back and pain in places u cant imagine have horrible thoughts and wish you hadnt been such a coward or such a prick all those times.. and then youll realise youre just looking for sympathy and youll find it in the one place you least expect it and most hope for.. and itll jus make your week.. and then youll realise youre leaving and its jus such a complicated little tumble jumble of emotions and what ifs and timing and place and diametric singularities that youll jus wanna lie down hug the pillow an smile and cry all at the same time...

start spreading the news.. im leaving in a week.. its going to be all sorts of new possibilities and problematic come face to face with the pasts all over again.... im looking forward to some of it more that others of course... but thank god its friday.. or wait is that tuesdays at friday...

a doctor an artiste a corporate whip a lawyer a mountain recluse a journalist and another one a couple of investment bankers a couple of hard working heirs a couple of not so hard working heirs... some old friends some new ones and a whole lot of acquaintances... try as u might u can never have things back the way they were.. meant to be?... whose to say... but u always try to recreate hope try and try again.. and then one day youll wake up with a broken dream and a more dazzling reality and youll realise maybe calvin did know a little bit of what he was on about.. not a lot but maybe just a bit and things do get better after they seem worse... and youll find bliss where you least expect it and where you most hope for it..

come home...

Coming Home...

ok folks.. quick update.. i'm at work and all...

I'm back in delhi... or will be soon enough... for good... I'm leaving behind Mumbai... Toto's... Soulfry... Bandstand... Polys... Hawai'in... Henry's... Poison... The Anda Pau guy at Andheri Station... My Mcdonalds delivery boys!!... and Dominoes and Dynasty and so on and so forth... and I'm coming home to Yellow Brick Road and Larry's China in particular...

I've taken over as the new Sales Manager for The Ambassador Hotel, New Delhi and may be seen whiling away many hours in Khan Market addas... :-) And yes I can give discounts at Yellow Brick Road but it all depends on how nice you are to me...

So.. jus been busy taking things over and understanding the intricacies of hotel operations and the people politics... heading back to bombay friday night to wrap up and pack up there... should be back in town by 15th of next month or so... and get up to some serious drudgery...

till then... I love the roads in Delhi... dude...

the anticipation of the eventuality...

the anticipation of a happy eventuality.. of a delightful little treat.. a brief conversation.. a few choice words... a smile here a curved lip there... the true bliss involved with a walk down the road.. chasing shadows and dreams..

sometimes memory can be sweeter than reality... the soft brush of her lips.. the smell of rain... the alcohol running in your brain.. the cold mountain air.. and the shiver of maybes...

it isnt jus about being a cynic :-) its about carpe dieam and making your dreams come true, and baring your soul to the world, unafraid and brave, scared and scary, and being one anyway...

you hold her hand.... tight... afraid to let go... frightened that perfection will slip away into oblivion.. but you smile anyway.. cause its here and its now.. you slip an arm around her waist.. the smooth satin rain drenched warm skin... your cold unforgiving hands.. trembling..

a quick laugh... a shake of the head.. playing it down... or it could explode.. into to something wonderful and overpowering all at once...

what is it about just being able to be yourself with someone thats such a relief... its not that bad is it that the veils and masques are so tightly held to one's face that the mere chance of a release is sinful... jus the ability to let that guard down, those double meanings you keep searching for, that you look for that you dont need to worry about...

compliments... the most underated gesture in humanity... few words that can make your day... your week... your moment... anahat's rule: never wait to compliment... its priceless...

the anticipation of the eventuality.. the gorgeous moments that can be...

tonight... you're a cynic..

rub your eyes... sigh... close them.. lean back on the pillow... pull... aniseed... tonight you're a cynic... no point in resistin... you're surrounded.. inside your mind.. pain.. grief.. sorrow.. alcohol.. impatience.. tonight you can't trust.. no matter how much you want to.. need to.. long for.. for that one smile and a ruffle of the hair.. and know it can be.. real.. but tonight you're a cynic and you know there's no real point... you submit to the self defacing wallowing...

im home.. im exhausted.. no way...

its a dichotomy really.. not an Elliotian shadow*.. no chasm of civilisations.. jus the knowledge that can be and what will be... just won't add up.. distance.. people.. distractions.. personal prejudices.. and the odds just stack up...

the disconnected.. deprived.. disillusioned fragment of a life.. draggin one day from another.. one night into another morning.. hoping.. praying even... but knowing always knowing.. no way...

funny boy... looking forward to eventualities of obvious disappointment... easing into them with foolish notions of romantic idealism.. no way...

mj said it best... the desperation of facebook smiles.. of capturing happiness jus for a moment... smiling.. drinking drearies.. shots! jus to project to the world at large.. look at me im sandra dee.. no way...

fast food and faster affairs.. expensive multimedia phones and meaningless conversations...

six million rupee cars and parents who dont even know their children...

just for tonight.. you're a cynic... but this night too shall pass... but there will be other nights.. of quite desperation...

and at the end all you really have is those that own your soul.. and those you wished still cared..

pseudo friendships and conniving camaraderie...

ab sawaal yeh nahi ki main rahun ya nahi... sawal yeh nahi ki main jiyun ke marun...
sawal yeh hai ki is duniya ko bananewala, chalanewala koi hai..
agar nahi to andhi duniyan main andho ki taranh jeene kya kya fayda
aur agar hai.. to kya woh apne bandho ki sunta hai ki nahi...**

questions of faith..

Hear with your ears the Best; look upon it with clear thought. When deciding between the two beliefs, each for himself before the great consummation, think that it be accomplished to our pleasure***

of light and darkness.. tainted apples and figs...

I sat their waiting - not for anything
beyond good and evil, enjoying now the light, now the shade, now only play,
now the lake, now the moon, wholly time without end,
Then suddenly, Friend, one became two -
And Zarathustra passed me by...***

of not thinking.. just being.. a cynic tonight...

*cf: The Hollow Men, T S Eliot
**cf: Raju Swamy in Vijay Anand's Guide
***cf: Ahunawaiti Gatha, a Hymn accredited to Zarathustra
****cf: Thus spake Zarathustra, Fredrich Wilhelm Nietzche, 1881

the fragmants of imagination...

imagination will save us all... its the little things you see... the ones that make love perfect.. the ones that let you flirt on sms.. the ones that make you sigh... and smile.. not the glorious displays of vibrant affection.. those have a different place in life.. the little things.. that make it a continuous process of life... of living.. of savouring... the ones that make not for happy endings... but the realisation and revelation that the little things make endings unimportant.. only the journey is important.. riding on the waves of sighs... emails.. and letters.. snubs and below the belts.. things said and things yet to be said.. memories of freshly cut grass and realising for the first times that words can move you.. to tears.. to an epiphany of orgasm... of poets and satire.. the deep gash of sarcasm... more wounding than the physical strike...

He created him, and determined him,
then the way he eased for him,
then makes him to die, and buries him,
then when He wills, He raises him.
No indeed! Man has not accomplished His bidding.*

when does one realise that time is of no essence only life is.. only living is.. does it take holy revelation.. divine light.. or a passing comment from someone you wouldnt normally listen to...

an accident waiting to happen, a piece of glass left there on the beach
when you tell me things i know youre not supposed to, and leave me just out reach...

when you lied to me cause i asked you to, baby can we still be friends**

buzz me if ur in town, itll be great to catch up.. call me, we should do dinner and talk.. where the the hell have you been, whats been going on, when are you coming home, hows bombay treating you... do you often say things you dont mean... be there in five.. love you.. need you... course i love you, why wouldnt I, of course i miss you, why wouldnt I, the vicious self depraving circle of white lies that turn the world.. do you? dont you? doyadontcha?........ dont you?

but this is the real world and darlin doesnt make the cut in the midst of cynical idealism...

stories of payals and pen pals.. of gypsies and rakhis... of duty heavier than a mountain and death lighter than a feather... of the fragments of imagination... of the beginning and ending of imagination all at the same time...

of sounding your barbaric yawp from the rooftops of the world***

i digress.. i often do.. i often have no point whatsoever... i am...

*cf: Sura 80, The Holy Qu'ran
**cf: Whose Gonna Ride You Wild Horses, U2
***cf: Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman

who is john galt?

reminiscing about friends and things gone by and things left unsaid i said to her.. and realised i hadnt blogged in like forever.. this is a guilt blog.. hehe..

ok so i love facebook.. hehe. i bloody do.. the whole pic upload-taggin thing's bloody awesum!... everybody needs to get onto it.. like now. go go go.. no i DONT get a cut... i also realised i dont have pictures with so many people id want to.. im gonna change that asap..

well.. ok more serious stuff.. im gonna be quitting so if anybodys not heard that before.. here it is now.. and im serious.. i think i wanna move back home.. im not sure.. im jus being greedy.. seemu the plasma's ready.. varun where is that apartment my bro...?

the plan was to celebrate holi at home.. but that meant i had to put in my papers day before.. which i havent done.. listenin to higher reason which says i should have sumthing in hand before i do that.. so im watchin and waiting.. and wanting.. albert p dolittle stye...

oh well. maybe ill manage gauri's weddin or sumthing.. wow everyones gettin married.. but im not gonna dwell on that it'll depress me even more..

my necks hurting.. been succumbing to a lot more of these little nicks these days...

its about crossroads you see.. ive been working with the taj.. ever since ive been working... so its kinda weird and tough to take this call. so many friends.. so many crazy memories... things done and things said.. its jus that i dont wanna do sales anymore.. global accounts relationship management or whatever the tag.. i dont wanna... its jus a call.. maybe ill come back to it.. maybe i wont.. whos to say.. who is john galt..?

*snip.. excellent week in delhi over new yrs.. like id said.. a great friend made.. and now the same one lost.. i never meant to hurt anyone.. i had promised.. no stories.. and i held to my word.. but how do u deal with an annoyed ex boyfriend whos hell bent on maligning your already fragile reputation.. u cant fight it.. u try..u plead.. but u cant.. so u let up.. and let it go.. its a pity though for sure.. there was something there for sure.. something good and kind.. and a little wave of a hand and a little flick of her hair.. but.. its not to be.. i am sorry.. but im not apologising this time..

*snip..what a weekend in bangalore.. my second.. but u cant compare.. its jus not right.. its just another weekend.. and she is wonderful.. not was.. is... a gem.. but im not ready to marry.. not now. not yet.. not for a while.. and this is india.. and she does have parents.. and they are being dodgy.. dont blame her either.. she showed me love and a carelessly honest loyalty of the obvious.. makes you wanna melt.. but not in this lifetime.. she'll always be special.. just in a different way.. another fleeting glimpse of happiness drifts away... another dawn another day.. anahat's a cynic again... the idealism is stronger than ever though... i am sorry.. but im not apologising this time.. i had not the courage to be loyal.. but i can face the criticism of my vanity head on...

pullll... peach.. hmmmm..

mere bachhe.. dukh se mat ghabrah.. dukh woh amrit hai jisse paap dhulte hain...
main tere se door nahi.. tere andar bahar.. main hi main hoo..sirf main..

na deen hai na duniya.. na insaan na bhagvan. sirf main...**


who is john galt?

**cf: Vijay Anand's Guide

2007...

all things change.. all things turn over flop around a bit and then sort of evolve into something else... but thats a different story anyway.. merry 2007 to all my alcoholic cynical muppets.. yeah i mean you...

so i went to delhi... it was to say blissfully cold.. and i improved my vocabulary.. i learnt a new term.. 'full fail'... from the augurs of Pattu of Cornell.. full fail is a condition of alcohol poisoning so acute that you feel the need to burn the gods*... explanations will be forthcoming with exaggerated hand movements in person only...

oh in case you're wondering i had an amazing time in delhi... smoked sheesha.. helped a brother.. drank drank.. drank some more.. got sun baked at the golf club.. got me gifted a nice scarf/stole.. bought a fussy girl a pair of jeans.. she decided she isnt marrying me... i made a great friend.. cynical yet gorgeous or is it cute??.. and can she sms... hehe.. got a tooth extracted and upset some gods... polyuriated in every loo at the delhi airport at least twice while truly realizing what 'fog delay causes airport chaos' can be like if u'r in it and not reading it in the paper..

i like sms.. you know its sort of like an open conversation.. it sort of cuts across time and space in ways too personal for im's to handle... its a continuous stream of ideas and smiley faces.. and in some ways.. for people who can write what they feel easier than say it out loud.. its a great tool of expression and confession..

life is back to mumbai though.. to work and evil bosses.. life is back to mundanity and schedules.. life is back to tropical climates where you can actually feel your ends..

lifes back to here.. and now.. lets see what i manage to make of 2007..