summing up

one more august gone, just like that!!

It has been like any other august, or perhaps a tad different because of a tincture of eerie anecdotes and a bizarre yet enthralling cornucopia of "oh-it-happened-to-you?" like situations. So, brace yourself for a sneak peek into my mad world.

1) College reopened from 1st and there was a lot of running and conundrum for the first week. We were supposed to register for courses and as always I was at my wit's ends figuring out what I really intended to study. Finally the scale tilted heavily in favour of physics courses. Ok, I am no Feynman but physics comes a bit naturally to me. I would not have been blogging were it not for physics. So, physics..thank you.

2) Went on a shopping spree and depleted my bank account to nullity!! Not often do I go berserk like that , but this time I made sure I hit the malls like one of those sleek damsels who throng there everyday, buying nothing. Bought two shirts ( there was a sale going on everywhere!!) and a back-pack which emptied me of every penny. I am like thriving on some 200 rupees from past 5 days and still there are two more days to go. But again humility rises from the dust and pacifies me. What about those little kids on the streets waiting for red-lights to halt the juggernaut of a traffic so that they can stretch their small hands and pester the commuters for money..?? A small girl always comes up to me ( Rather I stumble upon her..) and pops her hand inside the auto-rickshaw with two red-roses. The roses are so crimson that I have fallen in love with the color. I buy roses from her even though I have no one to offer it to!!

3) saw THE DARK KNIGHT 4 times in the multiplex. Still I haven't had enough of it. Heath Ledger was so different in portraying the role that I got hooked to the movie. I hit the screens more often than I hit the books. Only once in my lifetime would this gem of a movie embrace the theaters and I am not the one to rue before my grandchildren about me having missed it!!!

Ledger , wherever you are ...I tell you that no one would ever come even 15 furlongs as near as you ... you darted towards perfection with ferocity. Whoever said that perfection was boring, must be shrugging his shoulders in disbelief. Dead on, Heath.

4) Arpit( my college mate) drove the college bus after the whole crew grew impatient on seeing the key in the ignition for 15 minutes with the driver being gone. Arpit took to the wheels and oh my!! He was so sleek in driving..Was a hell of a ride...

5) latest news!!

Mr. A( don't fret!!)is almost there... talks are on and in almost all probability he would have a gf in about a month's time. The entire gang is so jealous ( by the sheer impossibility of him being with a girl !)
that rumour mills are running overtime. Some say it is a gimmick. I am beaming cause I know everything. R was saying , " Now even A would have a gf???????". Ohh, boy...!!! He has no idea...

missing the bus

I have missed the bus once again. not a great feeling to see it swish past me leaving a trail of smoke behind. from ages ( as far as I remember ..) people have believed that only losers miss buses. but I think the contrary.

I remember a different kinda loser from one movie ( Ok, He finally did something heroic...!! ) with files clutched under his arms ; ogling at some beatnik beauty at the bus stop and traveling from office to office via buses, only to be rejected by the managers again and again. What really did he get from boarding the bus in time? Nothing.

Missing the bus has given me opportunities to venture into different places. Once I ended up spending 3- 4 hours in LANDMARK ( bookstore) after I was left black by the soot of a missed-me-again-sweetie!!. Then, I struck a conversation with a learned old man once after he was left gasping and cursing by the same devil. He told me so much about himself in a gap of one hour. I don't know most of my super friends in such excruciating detail. He was a poet ( no money in poetry and no poetry in money , remember?? ). I picked up this habit of jotting poems from there. Who says only legacy hands you things. Missing the bus can come in handy!!!

watching the bus arrive finally after hours of desperate waiting brings me a joy which is very strange yet so sweet. I would have went on, but the bus may arrive any minute ( again the uncertainty adds spice to the whole anticipation and hope that my rickety overcrowded boulder of a vehicle would arrive ) , so I have to pack up. some people are watching me since half an hour. small kids ( laden with a full-of-books bag are chatting ..) ; office guys are keen on heading home and are betraying relief ( at last )..there is a whole bunch of girls ( ahh..haaa!!!) and they would board too....

and this is the first time , I have blogged @ bus-stop.

what more could I really ask for??

why, such a storm of posts??

{ nowadays I write too much. I have ample of time with me for offering crap. In free time, some play and most of us sleep. Some read so that sooner or later SLEEP embraces them. I, for the one, write non-sense and let others churn the sense out of it!!! pretty naughty of me but it is a good exercise for you all. Sometimes finding reason in a holy mess of scrap is the most difficult thing to do.... People, it is time for some serious brainstorming. Be Game.}

So why do I write so much these days?


1) Well, I have nothing much to do as of now. 3rd year in college has just started and the course flow is phlegmatic and quite viscous. I am not reading much of novels either since I have just finished a thick and heavy one ( as in plot). I am drained of everything. Writing is easy. Just type idiotically. If something comes out good, its pure serendipity.

2) I have almost overcome a dire situation in my life. I am so inundated with joy that only words seem to be the outlet. Long held happiness flows in words. Long held sadness fills the tear pools.

3) This is the best way ( for me) to keep a safe distance from unhappiness ( it is lurking to grab me, I can sense it..). If I don't scribble, I would be unhappy again because the idle mind knows no shackles and it invariably guides me to old unhappy memories.

4) because Writing generally comes out good when you are not making any sense. Sometimes a message behind the piece spoils the party . At times, Just Jot and shut your brain--doors.

5) Now comes the murky stuff. I am working on my writing skills. A pro ( I am not, but still!!) would go to any length to accentuate his vocational know-how!! I am working on a novel and some friends have gone through some part of it. They are finding it good. In fact good enough to make a sad man beam, a happy man weep.

please pray that I don't stop it midway . I hope that I would drift with the tide and the novel shall see the red ribbons and speedy reading- sessions.

ah, silly dreams. They make you look stupid, don't they??

blogging freely

15th august, 2008 and I am just back to my temple ( comp. room , what else?). We had a flag hoisting ceremony a few hours back. well, suddenly it occurs to me what being free really means. Cool!!we are kind of accustomed to live life on our own terms .Now, no one dictates us to do this or do that. Things are so drastically different from the 1930s and 40s. Everyday we break some shackles. Everyday someone or the other is breaking all bonds and becoming free. Freedom is a cliche nowadays. It is everywhere. Everyone asserts that he is free. But, I doubt this inflated notion of freedom.

I am not sure what I really think of Independence. To me , it is the most perplexing word in the entire dictionary. The same old devils : independent from whom, from what (but where? ) continue to haunt me. Ok, now you have no one like the Britons resting a baton up your ass but the tormentors are still there. Still, the goons act as Gods. Try to venture out , on 14th february with your Gf and then you would know:) . Now there are new dictators floating freely in the markets. Under their blanket , We deem ourselves to be very powerful. Smokey and Spookey free birds that we are, if someone asks to draw a line , we show him a golden finger ( f... , I am free). Now there aren't any Red clothed, booted rulers on horsebacks flooding our own streets. Now we have scantily clad mistresses. If not out of fear, but surely out of shame , our eyes do get lowered. Now that is how the rulers are supposed to evoke a response, isn't it?

Ok, why am I talking philosophical? ( untouchability is still not a passe. the new outcastEs are the ones who talk sense. Even I have laughed at such Big-talkers...). Philosophy arises when rigidity of thoughts meets a completely earth shattering situation. A few minutes ago, while I was walking my way back to the room , I stopped at a tea-shop to have some biscuits ( Ok, I don't drink tea. My friend does..). A small kid, hardly 12 years old, comes up to me and says "SAHIB, AAP BHI CHAI LENGE?". Obviously he gets a "No" for an answer but the sadness that I have seen on his face isn't the one which arises from a negation. This sadness surely springs from subjugation. The taming of his childhood dreams, the snatching of his play-hours. What more does it take to make him sad? But in an independent country, the rich and the famous are free enough to do that.

I think I would have to revise my whole notion of freedom now. If this is freedom , I shudder to even think what subjugation really was. Freedom has entangled us now. It has blinded us from many things. Just think. What have you ever done that a free man could have done and not regret? Nothing. Freedom , at best is a licence to live irresponsibly and not being asked any questions ( parents?? who art thou???). I am tired of living freely. For God's sake, chain me now before I turn unruly and cause a ruckus. I feel like a tamed lion let loose to poUnce on the circus crowd. I feel wild and unchecked. Ahh, awful to really feel like that.

Always feel free but when you act as one, do it a bit more responsibly.

random scribbling

It has been raining like hell in pune. In bits and pieces... seems these drops fall with the sole objective of soaking you wet and then all of a sudden there's a respite. the clouds subside and the sun comes out for a change ( only for a short while ..) the shoes are as wet as clouds and the denims are as dirty as the overflowing drains. there is not much to lean on but coffee, the blogging business, the random jottings and my love of Quantum mechanics.

the rain has brought out a particular event which was lying obscured all this while in some nook of my stupid brain . the contents of this post was not premeditated but rains are like that. they moisten even the driest and the most unfathomable of memories.

I was not so much friends with a boy. we did not get along very well though our parents were good friends. the patriarchs of both the households were college buddies. but we two, the school kids, were all about sticks and blood. ( ok..not so savage but still ...!!) . one Sunday, some 14 boys from my school decided to assemble in Regal playground ( a green and lush playground in my hometown) and have a game of soccer. I am no MARADONA and football is all about skills and running like a hare. unfortunately a log like me walks around the park and just fools around with the mighty sphere ( thy name is football). still, a game with your friends is a tricky way to extract whatever enmity they might be harbouring somewhere in their hearts. tell you what, feelings expressed in a game are never adulterated with manipulations. the emotions that come out when you struggle for the ball and when you shove & push to carry the ball ahead and dart it in the net are real. you know you are playing your heart out. Games make you honest. the envelope of formality is chucked out.

but as it were, the clouds spoiled the party. There is nothing like a soccer game in a wet field. you run( rejuvenated automatically by the drops ), you smear yourself with mud . also sweat and rain drops are an intoxicating combo. the puddles are trampled by the soccer boots. that day, I felt like having a wet game and anyways my house was the nearest to the playground . so I was game for the GAME , come what may.

only one among the the promised quorum turned up. no prizes for guessing. It was him. the foe supremo. I had a ball with me but the crew was not something I could savor. the kinda helplessness we feel when the restaurant is great but the diners are boring. but we decided to carry on with the game. can't explain what went in my head then or how on earth did he acquiesce to my indecent proposal ( hey guys!!! nothing like that...) . perhaps each one of us wanted to prove that we were better than the other. one acted as the goal keeper and other tried his leg ( not hand) at the football. we dived in the channels of water and hit the ball with all the crudeness.

at the end of the game what was left was a sense of remorse and all our ill-feelings were washed away. . the game left us humbled, pacified. I left home with wounds to nurse. the poison that had embittered us had been neutralized.we started playing thinking that we would outsmart each other. then the rain got the better of us.

still when I see small kids playing and diving in the fields, I smile. if not always, then at times, facts are stranger than fiction.

"untitled enigma"

what do people normally do? first they introduce themselves and then their thoughts follow . they mesmerize us by their words and bingo they are bang on. before kicking off the flurry of posts on my blog , even I was thinking of giving you( and me!!) some rough idea about myself. turns out, that after offering you quite a bit of bull-shit since some three months, even a crumble of my persona has not been put on sale, not a speck of my idol has been unmasked to allow you to spit on me.

truth is ( universally opined by sages and duds alike) that describing oneself is very difficult. still, I am like an archer in a dark room with his hands on the switch. he knows he is close to the bulls-eye but he is trusting his instincts a tad more than he should. so the lights remain off.

First an overview of what I basically am. again this is my opinion and they can vary just like the waist sizes. if you dissect me well enough and pry me deep , perhaps you might nod with me. for the beginners, well you have nothing but my words to go by. if you can smell my sentences and have honed your skill of gauging someone just by his words... it might help.

okay, here I shoot.



1) I am so unpredictable that even I don't know what I am gonna do the very next second. what follows is a chaos around me .. "what the f...? how could you do this?? were you out of your mind then?" is the usual reaction that issues ( who listens??) . I love to surprise people. when one is surprised, his reactions are very genuine because there is not enough time left to tamper one's response and then present it.

2) I am very self destructive. if you are one of my well-wishers , you would know how hard it is for you to keep me on track. I invariably act contrary to your expectation and all you can do is just pray that I come out clean. I have managed to somehow carve a niche for myself but not before my ass was charred owing to my recklessness. someone once told me "parivesh can't do without his share of fun with adversities.". tell you what, he was damn right.

3) I am a motormouth. if you are my friend , trust me you would be sick of my prolixity. I have a switch somewhere that turns itself on at the slightest pretext of a group discussion. all through my penance ( my parents think I have been very ascetic and have lived on my own coz of my studies... ironical indeed!!!) , my room has been a den. you have issues , come to me. the pedantic group assembles in my room and every pros and cons is taken care of. the rules roll out of my room. the guitars are strummed, people dance, the music overflows...

4) I am a sentimental fool. if you are in my good books , you are in there for life. its not that people close to me have never forsaken me and that I have been successful in gluing them to myself. I have lost some of them and they don't even look at me anymore. but I don't chuck people out from the inner territory. If you have infiltrated , you would be held captive. I weep at times. I think tears are a good medium to wash away your sorrow. although I don't particularly like the stains that are left on the pillow and the sticky bedewed cheeks after I am done with sobbing.

4) I am no saint. I have had reservations about some people being my friend. To be very honest, I don't like them... there is a clash of opinions and I am not the one to keep shut and see my thoughts being culled by stupid hands. I am not hostile , as in that I won't go out of my ways to knock off my enemies and bite their ear off( but my curses suffice..) . I would have loved to be accommodating enough to allow my so called foes some space in my life but unfortunately all of them are control freaks. they would wreck havoc in my life if they were to lay their fingers on it.

5) I am a freelancer. an amateur poet, a not-so-funny clown, a "someone-in-your-life" who can make you normal if your-chips-are-down but only when I am asked to do that.

6) I am an admirer of beauty. beauty hits me in the eye, but if you are haughty it digs a dagger within. I don't drool but hey!! I do cast a look if someone ravishing swings past me. the same old funda "nature-first-attitude next..beauty can wait " applies to me as well.

7) deep within I want to put on some weight and fade some of my melanin ( all because of you girls !!! ) . but I am okay with it if God doesn't decide to swirl his wand and metamorphose me 180 degrees in this life ( very unlikely to happen).

8) I am not a very egoist person but my ego is not an ant hill either. I believe in keeping things simple and straight. I absolutely hate back--stabbing. I am very fine with criticism ( in fact praising me might make me skeptical about your sanity !!!). I like photography though I am certainly not a pro.

9) I love singing and my voice is not very crass ( that is what mom tells me... again I am doubtful.) . I don't pronounce "T" very well. this flaw is not very grave but still it was a botheration when some people chided "PALLIVESH ..how ya doing?". I don't pronounce "T" as "L"!!!!

10) I am an angry fountain. and anger blinds me like fog. but sanity soon comes knocking and I resume. I know hell many of abuses but never treat guys ( not even my enemies to the choicest vocabs). I learnt them as somebody told me that in the meet-and-muster world you can't do without slangs. I smoke , occasionally when I am down but I have never touched alcohol. I don't deem the drinkers to be outcasts or outlaws. it is just that I don't feel like consuming spirit.

11) I am a movie buff. I am not one of those guys who think that watching Hollywood movies is something very stylish. hell!! if the film is nice.. I can watch any movie. for languages other than Hindi and English , I would need subtitles. I have seen THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION at least 24 times and the count is on. I love listening to music and anything coming under the "good melody" category is fine with me. The jazz, the blues, the punk, the hard rock... also I love bollywood songs if they are original ones. Kishore Da is my absolute favorite.




the layers are gradually getting laid before your eyes. savor it or hate it, your choice. the curtain shall unfurl more as the wagon wheel of time keeps turning.


for now, this should suffice. I think by now , you have had enough of it. anyways , read on...

fag, please!!

it is going to be quite a revelation for some people. I am shuddering while I am jotting this but fidgeting won't help. I have to be true to you. I am a smoker. not a big timer but of a worse variety-- a slave of smoke in times of woe. I don't smoke when I am happy. I do it when the burning end of the cigarette is the only ray of hope I am left with.I have been in and out of my smoking phase. for me, the white parchment with its brown end wraps all the liberation within itself . it does so, until I promise myself "no more smoke-sticks for me..". the promise is issued when my joyous days return. how cheap!!

lemme come to the beginning of my end. it was this last day of school. my whole bunch was dissipating to every nook and corner of INDIA. separation was difficult and we were on crossroads. they were decisions to be made and we being tenth graders were not very fit to do it. but the immediate pain emanated from the thought of leaving the school for good. Call it our recklessness or a misplaced method of anxiety-management ; we lit our joy sticks to ease the feeling of never-see-you-again. we sold a piece of our soul to this tiny slim freak, what for? a momentary elation, some minutes of forgetfulness of the fact that we were drifting apart and some cubic of nicotine. then on, every time I grew pensive ; smoke clouded my eyes. "sorrow and smoke are not very good friends. they don't go along well. If you are unhappy, try to burn sadness with cigarette. " but its a merry-go-around. the sorrow always strikes back and the smoke just watches in awe. wet as many smoke-butts as you wish; there is no escape.

okay, I have to admit this. one who smokes , he always has cogent reasons for doing so. for the first 20 fags , he answers himself. once he stands convinced; nicotine takes over. I am not a terrific smoker..( not very charismatic like the Hollywood dudes who produce wriggling and wobbling shapes of smoke but a surreal one. rub the match stick- light the end- puff it off- kinda smoker. ). I left it when I did some reality check, googled for the hazards, when someone made me promise that I won't touch it . I thought that I had left my pack to a point of no return. I forgot that the road always turns. we return because the roads fork in wrong directions. I restarted it again. I knew I was deceiving many but cigarette eats up your conscience. you always think , " who is gonna see here, this nook which is so spidey even for the insects? so light it!! smoke on..." even now when there seems to be no way out, I turn back and the fumes hold me. you would think, what the F.. ? Is he a hollow barrel of will-power?? but smoke burns the oil of will ; to the very last drop. all these promises to my loved ones don't help. when I am in a pickle, I smoke. the fumes even conceal the faces that would die seeing me do that. I don't do that to hurt them. I do that cause I think its an escape route. I know it isn't.. but at times , it is. hell!! I am confused.