Well, it is that time of the year when everyone around us would again pretend things are super-cool in their lives and got reasons enough to celebrate. It is New Year’s Eve and I could see the frenzy in the eyes of my colleagues when elaborating their plans for The Night which mostly involves spending a lot of money over drugging their selves which would let them to spend some more. While I patiently listen with a smile, I could not help thinking where it was that I read “Celebration is for people who have got something to celebrate!”
One of my close pals was against me in this saying, “Dude, It is a fresh beginning of another whole new year..just have fun and you gotta let it go!” I could see where he came from but had to reflect also that it would be again a bunch of 365 days which could begin any day we consciously choose to. But considering human’s notoriety as a social animal, no one likes to be left out of the pack and do anything which the other members of pack would deem wrong or shameful. Still, I could not fixate myself on the idea of “celebrating” in a poorly lit place surrounded by jumping, shouting ,sloshing n moshing sons and daughters of Satan when I was invited for The Night at this trendy joint.
I never really have enjoyed myself when you are supposed to feel enjoyment or when you are considered weird if you are not enjoying yourself when folks around you are gay and merry. Maybe it is a problem with me which I have not figured it out yet (like a lot others) is that I seem to be impotent of the power to choke “enjoyment” on-the-fly onto myself whenever I am supposed to, like all the other normal people around me.
I remember me being at a friend’s birthday party along with guys n gals who were all a tad uncomfortable as mostly every third guy/gal was a new face to rest of the group. People were shifting and fidgeting for a while and WHAM…some random guy put on some random item number and that was it. The crowd was on its feet (thought I heard a collective relieved sigh)at the same moment and next thing I know everybody was dancing with everybody except me who was still gulping down my third Aquafina (btw, if you don’t already know, I have quit drinking alcohol – Liver Problem, you see..). Unsure of what to do to get me excited, I was already moving through the palpitating crowd up and down, right and left, vertical and horizontal only to get poked at each of my eyes twice and to find my pants unzipped (don’t even get me started here) when I reached square one. Still, feeling like a reluctant puppeteer who just can’t pull his strings for excitement I tried dancing a few steps alone which when watched in a mirror I would have realized as bobbing my head and jerking my body. Soon I had to stop this too as the host had to come and check on me thrice if I was not having an epileptic seizure of a weird kind.
On the contrary I remember our training days end of which we had a DJ night and I was all happy and fun for the training tests’ results were good which would mean I just earned a permanent job (hmm…atleast for a while). I was a total catastrophe, of course in a fun way, wreaking chaos on the dance floor that night dancing my ass off making a space for myself on the crowded floor within few spaces of which no sane feet attempted to enter. Few of the girls who used to be friends with me stopped talking to me since that night. Learned later that in the rush I had that crazy night I had apparently punched one of them in the nose and kicked another (nothing of which I swear I remember till date).
Come to think of it, Enjoyment to me has always been an ‘Inside out’ thing rather than the opposite of it. The things which had given me happiness had always taken roots in my inner self, within me and have branched out in all vigor and glory. Like when I accomplish something, say finish my day’s work to a sculptor’s masterpiece’s perfection or when I create something in which I see a part of me or when I put my soul in teaching someone things I know or believe in and could see my words in his tongue or a shadow of my shadow blend with his. The days I have returned from work when I have felt I had accomplished something have always been more beautiful than the rest of the days and I have always gifted myself like a delicious dinner or watching a favorite movie or any other pleasure which I have delayed so far. Just because I FELT I DESERVED IT. Maybe it is only me but do you not think celebration needs a reason at all?
PS: Am really glad to have a friend of mine shelling out a couple of thousands to an orphanage here at Vashi which if not for his ‘enlightened moment’ would have got deposited at a pub in Bandra, this New Year’s Eve.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
ஜன்னல் கம்பிகளில் எஞ்சும் துளிகள்
நனைதல்
மழையில் நனைதல் பிடிக்கும் என்றாய்
பழுதடையக் கூடியதாகவோ
நனைந்துவிடக் கூடாததாகவோ
எதுவும் இல்லாத என்னை
நனைத்திருந்த மழைகளே
மிகவும் பிடித்தமானவை
என்கிறேன் உன்
நெறிபடும் புருவங்களிடம்
குரல்
பின்னிரவில் படிக்கும் கவிதைப் புத்தகத்தின்
ஒரு பக்கத்தையும் புரட்ட முடிவதில்லை - கீழே
தெருவில் ஒற்றையாய் ஒலித்து பின்தேயும்
குழந்தையின் அழுகுரலுக்குப் பின்னால்
தாகம்
கொடிய தாகத்துடன் அலைகிறேன்
எந்தப் பொழுதும்
வறண்டு உலர்ந்து தரையில் மீனாய்
துள்ளியும் துவண்டும் வீழும் நாவு
சொட்டு நீரின் கருணைக்காக
எவெரெவரிடமோ எதெனெதனிடமோ
இறைஞ்சும் வாய்
பார்த்தல் பணியைப் பால்யத்துடன் துறந்து
தாகம் தீர்க்குமிடம்
தேடியலையும் கண்கள்
தாகம்!திராவகத்தையும் ருசித்துவிடத்
தூண்டும் தாகம்
வெறுமையின் உடலாய்த் தவழ்ந்து
நான் செல்லும் இந்தப் பாலைச்சாலையின்
முடிவில் கண்கள் குவித்துக்
காண்கிறேன் ஒரு கூடாரம்
கணமொன்று தயங்கி பிறகு
உள்நுழையும் கால்கள்
கனவா புரியவில்லை
கண்கள் கசக்கியும் மாறாத
காட்சி நனவுதான்
விதவிதமான அளவுகளில்
வடிவங்களில் ஆயிரமாயிரம்
கண்ணாடிக் குடுவைகள்
உள்ளே திரவங்களுடன்
வெடிக்கும் தலையைப்
பிடித்துக் கொண்டு
வெறிக்கும் கண்களால்
பார்க்கிறேன்
"எந்தத் திரவம் என் தாகம் தீர்க்கும்?"
மழையில் நனைதல் பிடிக்கும் என்றாய்
பழுதடையக் கூடியதாகவோ
நனைந்துவிடக் கூடாததாகவோ
எதுவும் இல்லாத என்னை
நனைத்திருந்த மழைகளே
மிகவும் பிடித்தமானவை
என்கிறேன் உன்
நெறிபடும் புருவங்களிடம்
குரல்
பின்னிரவில் படிக்கும் கவிதைப் புத்தகத்தின்
ஒரு பக்கத்தையும் புரட்ட முடிவதில்லை - கீழே
தெருவில் ஒற்றையாய் ஒலித்து பின்தேயும்
குழந்தையின் அழுகுரலுக்குப் பின்னால்
தாகம்
கொடிய தாகத்துடன் அலைகிறேன்
எந்தப் பொழுதும்
வறண்டு உலர்ந்து தரையில் மீனாய்
துள்ளியும் துவண்டும் வீழும் நாவு
சொட்டு நீரின் கருணைக்காக
எவெரெவரிடமோ எதெனெதனிடமோ
இறைஞ்சும் வாய்
பார்த்தல் பணியைப் பால்யத்துடன் துறந்து
தாகம் தீர்க்குமிடம்
தேடியலையும் கண்கள்
தாகம்!திராவகத்தையும் ருசித்துவிடத்
தூண்டும் தாகம்
வெறுமையின் உடலாய்த் தவழ்ந்து
நான் செல்லும் இந்தப் பாலைச்சாலையின்
முடிவில் கண்கள் குவித்துக்
காண்கிறேன் ஒரு கூடாரம்
கணமொன்று தயங்கி பிறகு
உள்நுழையும் கால்கள்
கனவா புரியவில்லை
கண்கள் கசக்கியும் மாறாத
காட்சி நனவுதான்
விதவிதமான அளவுகளில்
வடிவங்களில் ஆயிரமாயிரம்
கண்ணாடிக் குடுவைகள்
உள்ளே திரவங்களுடன்
வெடிக்கும் தலையைப்
பிடித்துக் கொண்டு
வெறிக்கும் கண்களால்
பார்க்கிறேன்
"எந்தத் திரவம் என் தாகம் தீர்க்கும்?"
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
“The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see.”
(Credits: Above is a quote by G.K.Chesterton)
“Many of my first times have been with you Shails”. I heard myself expressing to my buddy, stepping out of Hard Rock Café, vaguely realizing there’s something not quite right about the way the sentence was constructed. But then, it’s kind of true in many ways. So for the moment I walked away from him taking my arms off his shoulders just not to project a wrong picture again.
Trip to Pune this weekend was real fun, thanks to Shails, who took care of me just like how Gibraltar’s president would have taken care of Obama. Asked him about it too only to see him shrug and say “Can’t help it. It’s in the blood”. True enough! With his hotelier dad, rich with experiences from plush hotel giants like Hyatt, Taj etc, his courteousness should have stopped surprising me long ago. But it still amuses me and thinking about it now, it’s from him I learnt the art of giving your best always to your guests or friends, whoever happens to be at your home or with you. Again, he has always been a special friend to me, as special a friend could get to be.
Friday night was it when I reached the highway to Pune next to Vashi Plaza. A lanky guy with curly hair and curly nails materialized out of nowhere in front of me and started to convince me that his Scorpio ride will be the best ever transportation mode ever invented to reach Pune. Unwittingly, I took the seat alongside the driver’s seat in the Scorpio with 8 other people stuffed in the back and was bit relieved thinking I got lucky to get the front seat. My luck was short lived as soon as I found another ‘pleasantly plump’ guy sitting on my thighs when the cab stopped to pick up more people. Turned out the guy was such an extrovert with apparently no inhibitions sitting that close to me breathing his vadaa pav breath on the back of my neck. Soon he started digging my past with shameless questions and my intention of throwing him out of the open window was getting stronger every passing moment. How he managed to get a girlfriend amused me when she called him that instant and he shifted his attention now to the mobile and sucking and swallowing noises (kissing??! ) were all we heard for the rest of journey. Too much for the smart hundred bucks I thought I had saved by preferring cab over Volvo!
Shailender, was there, reliable as ever, to pick me up where the Scorpio dropped me, exactly like my last December’s trip to Pune. A lot has changed among us – I having lost my moustache and few fragments of my clavicle in the accident I had last June and he having gained some weight and more maturity. Having reached his home after midnight and each settling comfortably in respective cosy beds, old and new stories began to unfold as they usually do. It has been a year since I saw him last but just felt we were still together, just like the old college days. Close to 3 AM, he dozed off while I was browsing through some stuff in his laptop. Man, he has some timeless collection! ;-)
Next 2 days then were total fun; exciting food for all my senses but one. Delicilicious Chaitanya’s Parathas, eclectic drinks n electric music @ HardRock Café, long drive back in the bone-chilling Pune breeze, getting eyes all greedy in 3-D Avatar, meeting Sukhada again after a year etc…Thought about work and things ahead to do only when it was time to leave on Sunday evening. Hmm..Leaving is always the ‘not nice’ part of travel. Bid adios to Shails n Sukh and got into the bus and immediately started reminiscing how the days where better when we were all together, back in college. Few of the best days of my life!
Humans have this reflex behavior of diverting attention to pleasant things and thoughts when they start to feel upset because soon, I found myself looking at a classy female 2 seats ahead reading ‘ A walk to remember’. Curiosity killed the cat! ;-) Asked her if she has seen the movie and we were chatting for a while and told her about my blog when I found she’s with an Ad agency (aggressive promotion this is..lol...) It was what she casually said took over my thinking for a while. “All of you IT guys want to become a writer now or sooner. What’s up with you people?!” well, I never really had noticed that bandwagon driving up its way till her remark. Thinking about it, it’s kind of true, starting with IIT, IIM pros heralding the mast and attracting all attention and now even serious bloggers (the like of Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan) joining the club.
Well, it was Vashi again when the bus and my musings had to stop abruptly. It was me again, alone, walking in the highway hugging myself against the cold air, just thinking how blissful it is to travel. I have not done a lot of travelling this year but it’s already a resolution for this January. I feel Travel takes you outside to newer experiences which bring you back to your inside – refreshingly more fresh!
“A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.”
-Lao Tzu (founder of Taoism)
“Many of my first times have been with you Shails”. I heard myself expressing to my buddy, stepping out of Hard Rock Café, vaguely realizing there’s something not quite right about the way the sentence was constructed. But then, it’s kind of true in many ways. So for the moment I walked away from him taking my arms off his shoulders just not to project a wrong picture again.
Trip to Pune this weekend was real fun, thanks to Shails, who took care of me just like how Gibraltar’s president would have taken care of Obama. Asked him about it too only to see him shrug and say “Can’t help it. It’s in the blood”. True enough! With his hotelier dad, rich with experiences from plush hotel giants like Hyatt, Taj etc, his courteousness should have stopped surprising me long ago. But it still amuses me and thinking about it now, it’s from him I learnt the art of giving your best always to your guests or friends, whoever happens to be at your home or with you. Again, he has always been a special friend to me, as special a friend could get to be.
Friday night was it when I reached the highway to Pune next to Vashi Plaza. A lanky guy with curly hair and curly nails materialized out of nowhere in front of me and started to convince me that his Scorpio ride will be the best ever transportation mode ever invented to reach Pune. Unwittingly, I took the seat alongside the driver’s seat in the Scorpio with 8 other people stuffed in the back and was bit relieved thinking I got lucky to get the front seat. My luck was short lived as soon as I found another ‘pleasantly plump’ guy sitting on my thighs when the cab stopped to pick up more people. Turned out the guy was such an extrovert with apparently no inhibitions sitting that close to me breathing his vadaa pav breath on the back of my neck. Soon he started digging my past with shameless questions and my intention of throwing him out of the open window was getting stronger every passing moment. How he managed to get a girlfriend amused me when she called him that instant and he shifted his attention now to the mobile and sucking and swallowing noises (kissing??! ) were all we heard for the rest of journey. Too much for the smart hundred bucks I thought I had saved by preferring cab over Volvo!
Shailender, was there, reliable as ever, to pick me up where the Scorpio dropped me, exactly like my last December’s trip to Pune. A lot has changed among us – I having lost my moustache and few fragments of my clavicle in the accident I had last June and he having gained some weight and more maturity. Having reached his home after midnight and each settling comfortably in respective cosy beds, old and new stories began to unfold as they usually do. It has been a year since I saw him last but just felt we were still together, just like the old college days. Close to 3 AM, he dozed off while I was browsing through some stuff in his laptop. Man, he has some timeless collection! ;-)
Next 2 days then were total fun; exciting food for all my senses but one. Delicilicious Chaitanya’s Parathas, eclectic drinks n electric music @ HardRock Café, long drive back in the bone-chilling Pune breeze, getting eyes all greedy in 3-D Avatar, meeting Sukhada again after a year etc…Thought about work and things ahead to do only when it was time to leave on Sunday evening. Hmm..Leaving is always the ‘not nice’ part of travel. Bid adios to Shails n Sukh and got into the bus and immediately started reminiscing how the days where better when we were all together, back in college. Few of the best days of my life!
Humans have this reflex behavior of diverting attention to pleasant things and thoughts when they start to feel upset because soon, I found myself looking at a classy female 2 seats ahead reading ‘ A walk to remember’. Curiosity killed the cat! ;-) Asked her if she has seen the movie and we were chatting for a while and told her about my blog when I found she’s with an Ad agency (aggressive promotion this is..lol...) It was what she casually said took over my thinking for a while. “All of you IT guys want to become a writer now or sooner. What’s up with you people?!” well, I never really had noticed that bandwagon driving up its way till her remark. Thinking about it, it’s kind of true, starting with IIT, IIM pros heralding the mast and attracting all attention and now even serious bloggers (the like of Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan) joining the club.
Well, it was Vashi again when the bus and my musings had to stop abruptly. It was me again, alone, walking in the highway hugging myself against the cold air, just thinking how blissful it is to travel. I have not done a lot of travelling this year but it’s already a resolution for this January. I feel Travel takes you outside to newer experiences which bring you back to your inside – refreshingly more fresh!
“A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.”
-Lao Tzu (founder of Taoism)
Friday, December 18, 2009
My Hit List - Part 2
Okay! Back by popular demand, ahem...ahem, here comes My Hit List –Part 2.
Strangely enough I never did have a crush on any of my Chemistry teachers; wait, maybe because they were all males almost all the time. Moreover my eyes were all on this cute girl in class 9th when I was feeling I had a fair advantage already as I was a lot senior to her – in class 10th. Hmmm…I know. It was quite pathetic considering I have never really spoken to any of the girls anytime anywhere except for occasional, “Pencil sharpener please” “Your butterfly hairclip is really nice hehe” etc..hope you get the drift here.
Thus were my MACKing skills at that time and still I had no hesitation or reservations in harboring a deep crush for this girl. Lets call her Mona. Mona in Tamil would mean a calm and sublime state of mind but maybe she was unaware of that, she was like an exuberant puppy almost all the time. Imagine a well shaken coke bottle opened abruptly and you see the fizz , that’s Mona talking. Take a porcelain box full of colored round marbles and roll them over a glass floor, that’s Mona laughing. You see a spurting fountain gushing all over and that’s..relax Shanmu..take a deep breath..
Such was the persona of Mona and I was getting bulldozed everyday thinking how to approach and do the talking. Then it happened! Seemed Gods decided to give me a chance in the team meeting they had that week when I was told I was selected to represent my school in the annual Rotary Club competitions along with Mona. I participated in the GK Quiz and she was in Western Dance category. We had a full month together where I precipitated, fumed, foamed and finally managed to get along normally when she was around talking and giggling in front of me. The days were full of fun and laughter and the nights were all days recollected.
I thought I was really scoring with her when she started sharing, asking me my opinions and started hitting me playfully wherever I could be hit playfully. She was dancing for a Venga Boys score and God Knows Why, she wanted me to teach her few steps which I did, end of which she immediately introduced me to her friend who was practicing a classical dance number. Things were real fun and the fateful day approached like a slithering snake.
It was the Day of Competitions and my team managed to come 2nd in the quiz (shook hands with Mona and was caressing my right palm like a new-born baby) and I was with the audience waiting secretly for the prima donna. Few hours later, she appeared on stage like a butterfly covered in cocoon , white top and white flowing skirt. How in the world did she manage to do all the steps she did in that ensemble is still a mystery to me. I was transfixed, staring at the stage, like a voodoo magician’s play puppet till the thunderous applause around shook me out of my trance. I was all flattered when I saw her coming towards my direction, the moment she jumped off stage. Locking eyes with me she stood before me waiting. I was again speechless and would have begun to mumble when she asked “epdi irundhuchu anna? ( how was it bro?) yeah..bro..bro for brother..b for brother…but why would b for brother..b for ball..but OH HELL!! SHE CALLED ME BRO!! that was my mind processing after those fateful words slipped out of her innocent lips.
Now, I was literally speechless and shook, nod, wave and did everything with my head to convey her performance was superb and I am very much moved by it that I could not even utter a word. She pecked me in the cheek and went away for packing her stuff. I was all dusty and musty when I reached my friend’s house that night thinking where and when the hell did I tell her I need a sister out of her. For God’s sake, I already have a sister enough for seven lifetimes. I took my friend to the terrace and started telling him my painful story who listened with hmmm…thsst..thsst..uchh..uchh..adada..syllables that seemed very sincere and left me alone for a while. Little did I realize that when I came downstairs, he had broadcasted my comic story to all his family folks that it seemed even their dog was grinning when it looked at me.
Hmmm…life goes on dude! Lose some gain some! That exactly was what happened with my third and final crush. Signing off for now!
Strangely enough I never did have a crush on any of my Chemistry teachers; wait, maybe because they were all males almost all the time. Moreover my eyes were all on this cute girl in class 9th when I was feeling I had a fair advantage already as I was a lot senior to her – in class 10th. Hmmm…I know. It was quite pathetic considering I have never really spoken to any of the girls anytime anywhere except for occasional, “Pencil sharpener please” “Your butterfly hairclip is really nice hehe” etc..hope you get the drift here.
Thus were my MACKing skills at that time and still I had no hesitation or reservations in harboring a deep crush for this girl. Lets call her Mona. Mona in Tamil would mean a calm and sublime state of mind but maybe she was unaware of that, she was like an exuberant puppy almost all the time. Imagine a well shaken coke bottle opened abruptly and you see the fizz , that’s Mona talking. Take a porcelain box full of colored round marbles and roll them over a glass floor, that’s Mona laughing. You see a spurting fountain gushing all over and that’s..relax Shanmu..take a deep breath..
Such was the persona of Mona and I was getting bulldozed everyday thinking how to approach and do the talking. Then it happened! Seemed Gods decided to give me a chance in the team meeting they had that week when I was told I was selected to represent my school in the annual Rotary Club competitions along with Mona. I participated in the GK Quiz and she was in Western Dance category. We had a full month together where I precipitated, fumed, foamed and finally managed to get along normally when she was around talking and giggling in front of me. The days were full of fun and laughter and the nights were all days recollected.
I thought I was really scoring with her when she started sharing, asking me my opinions and started hitting me playfully wherever I could be hit playfully. She was dancing for a Venga Boys score and God Knows Why, she wanted me to teach her few steps which I did, end of which she immediately introduced me to her friend who was practicing a classical dance number. Things were real fun and the fateful day approached like a slithering snake.
It was the Day of Competitions and my team managed to come 2nd in the quiz (shook hands with Mona and was caressing my right palm like a new-born baby) and I was with the audience waiting secretly for the prima donna. Few hours later, she appeared on stage like a butterfly covered in cocoon , white top and white flowing skirt. How in the world did she manage to do all the steps she did in that ensemble is still a mystery to me. I was transfixed, staring at the stage, like a voodoo magician’s play puppet till the thunderous applause around shook me out of my trance. I was all flattered when I saw her coming towards my direction, the moment she jumped off stage. Locking eyes with me she stood before me waiting. I was again speechless and would have begun to mumble when she asked “epdi irundhuchu anna? ( how was it bro?) yeah..bro..bro for brother..b for brother…but why would b for brother..b for ball..but OH HELL!! SHE CALLED ME BRO!! that was my mind processing after those fateful words slipped out of her innocent lips.
Now, I was literally speechless and shook, nod, wave and did everything with my head to convey her performance was superb and I am very much moved by it that I could not even utter a word. She pecked me in the cheek and went away for packing her stuff. I was all dusty and musty when I reached my friend’s house that night thinking where and when the hell did I tell her I need a sister out of her. For God’s sake, I already have a sister enough for seven lifetimes. I took my friend to the terrace and started telling him my painful story who listened with hmmm…thsst..thsst..uchh..uchh..adada..syllables that seemed very sincere and left me alone for a while. Little did I realize that when I came downstairs, he had broadcasted my comic story to all his family folks that it seemed even their dog was grinning when it looked at me.
Hmmm…life goes on dude! Lose some gain some! That exactly was what happened with my third and final crush. Signing off for now!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Mirror Image of a Dream!
Sitting alone in a corner of the dark room
Making lists endless of sins committed
Looking over the shameless blood spilled
Yet searching for my guilt still
I am the chained monster, a hungry recluse
Writhing and wishing these fetters would break loose
Bring the cannons and blow me away
Before the dust settles clearing my way
Have been to heaven and hell
There’s something I gotta tell
Found pain in the doors of heaven
Pleasure in the bowels of hell
Moments when my heart has jumped with joy
I have always been made to apologize
Pleasing yourself when your brethren suffer in the fields
Shame as a devil would haunt you left with nothing to shield
Nothing to save nowhere to go
Pain excruciating yet too proud to bow
Bleeding soul crying for rest
Wishing to see a face I could trust
Tired traveler I have always been
Misleading signposts are all I have seen
Wandering alone in the meadows
Speakin to no one but my shadow
Its easy to blame all but you
Though it has been there always for plain view
One hand indulging in the unworthy feast
While the other unleashing the ungodly beast
I’ve burnt all rule-books and spat in your sanctum
For nothing is created out of mindless vacuum
Moment of truth is when you listen to your inner you
Moment of joy would be those moments in millions
Never am gonna let go of a chance again
For I now know not a moment out there to regain
Let them cry am wrong who aren’t really worth a nickel
Head held high I’ll march ahead with a chuckle
Making lists endless of sins committed
Looking over the shameless blood spilled
Yet searching for my guilt still
I am the chained monster, a hungry recluse
Writhing and wishing these fetters would break loose
Bring the cannons and blow me away
Before the dust settles clearing my way
Have been to heaven and hell
There’s something I gotta tell
Found pain in the doors of heaven
Pleasure in the bowels of hell
Moments when my heart has jumped with joy
I have always been made to apologize
Pleasing yourself when your brethren suffer in the fields
Shame as a devil would haunt you left with nothing to shield
Nothing to save nowhere to go
Pain excruciating yet too proud to bow
Bleeding soul crying for rest
Wishing to see a face I could trust
Tired traveler I have always been
Misleading signposts are all I have seen
Wandering alone in the meadows
Speakin to no one but my shadow
Its easy to blame all but you
Though it has been there always for plain view
One hand indulging in the unworthy feast
While the other unleashing the ungodly beast
I’ve burnt all rule-books and spat in your sanctum
For nothing is created out of mindless vacuum
Moment of truth is when you listen to your inner you
Moment of joy would be those moments in millions
Never am gonna let go of a chance again
For I now know not a moment out there to regain
Let them cry am wrong who aren’t really worth a nickel
Head held high I’ll march ahead with a chuckle
Monday, December 7, 2009
Nights of the Living Dead!
Back again in this wretched shift!
For the past 2 months I have been asked to work in night shift for every alternate fortnight and I have come to know that my life is being lived by 2 persons – one, the original ME and the other, zombie ME.
Thanks to these creepy night shifts, I have gotten a complete understanding of my ana/kata/meta/ bolism of my body which has carried me so far without claiming any pompous credit for its own. And now does it talk to me..nah..it he-slaps me every frickin moment am awake. Not long ago, my body used to pretend to be the trained lion and me as the ring-master in the role-play we used to play. Now I can only see both of us being a bare-boned lion being whipped by some invisible, dark ring-master holding whips equaling a porcupine’s bristles.
Many weird things you start doing once night shifts begin and when you catch yourself doing them, you stare at yourself in confused amusement. Like when you suck and swallow a lollipop only to see it back unlicked (is there a word – unlicked?!) back in your grasp. I have been brushing thrice a day, as it seems every time I wake up it was a day before I brushed, only to forget that it was an hour before. You look at your room mate's startled eyes staring at you in total horror when you come back in the morning and fall asleep over him - on his bed. You try to write a blog and you catch yourself singing a lullaby and drawing micky mouse and fishes in impossible shapes, all over the paper. You start looking for methu vada in the thali served to you and make things worse by arguing about it to the Gujarati guy who sits in the counter who thinks methu vada is some kind of swear word and starts to bare his teeth angrily at you, waving at his family photo hanging on the wall.
Then there are your fellow zombies who at the sight of you entering the canteen will start to mumble about how crappy this whole idea of night shift is. I personally do not like to complain ( I’ve my blog to crib about anything..lol) and make it a point to keep the complainers ‘at bay’ but at night shifts I practically entertain them. You sit along with them and eat stuff which you would not have imagined to be edible in some other time in some other days. You take a walk in the dead-cold wishing you were left alone when with people who like to annoy you by annoying themselves. Rarely, you get to meet people who you would like to talk to and you open up like a just-erupt-volcano that scares the hell outta them.
This is when I decided to hire only insomniacs for night shift when and if I start my own organization and if night shifts are needed. Still, the only rosy/romantic part about these gruesome nights was the fact that I get to see all the sunrises – Mon to Fri. Awesome! Just like today, when am just back witnessing another rise of the day from the dark dead and continuing my blog with new hope. I get reminded of Brad Pitt in ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’. At some point In the movie, the wannabe-ballet dancer -lead actress loses hope over life and everything after a painful accident and Pitt drives her all the way to a secluded spot near a shore at dawn and makes her sit on a bench, offers her steaming tea and they together watch the rising sun in all its glory. Glistening tears, reflecting the first rays of sunlight roll down her cheeks when she knows what she knows at that moment. The tears of hers were not alone when I was watching the movie and even now as I write I salute the mind which produced such a thought, with warm tears of my own.
Life takes everyone up and down a roller-coaster of its own at a thought’s speed and I know my night shifts are no big deal in reality. This blog and the nights behind had been that of an insomniac in his delirium but for all that I am made up of, I know I will look for the early morning bird flapping its wings across the rising sun in the distant horizon, when I am driven back home in the morning.
For the past 2 months I have been asked to work in night shift for every alternate fortnight and I have come to know that my life is being lived by 2 persons – one, the original ME and the other, zombie ME.
Thanks to these creepy night shifts, I have gotten a complete understanding of my ana/kata/meta/ bolism of my body which has carried me so far without claiming any pompous credit for its own. And now does it talk to me..nah..it he-slaps me every frickin moment am awake. Not long ago, my body used to pretend to be the trained lion and me as the ring-master in the role-play we used to play. Now I can only see both of us being a bare-boned lion being whipped by some invisible, dark ring-master holding whips equaling a porcupine’s bristles.
Many weird things you start doing once night shifts begin and when you catch yourself doing them, you stare at yourself in confused amusement. Like when you suck and swallow a lollipop only to see it back unlicked (is there a word – unlicked?!) back in your grasp. I have been brushing thrice a day, as it seems every time I wake up it was a day before I brushed, only to forget that it was an hour before. You look at your room mate's startled eyes staring at you in total horror when you come back in the morning and fall asleep over him - on his bed. You try to write a blog and you catch yourself singing a lullaby and drawing micky mouse and fishes in impossible shapes, all over the paper. You start looking for methu vada in the thali served to you and make things worse by arguing about it to the Gujarati guy who sits in the counter who thinks methu vada is some kind of swear word and starts to bare his teeth angrily at you, waving at his family photo hanging on the wall.
Then there are your fellow zombies who at the sight of you entering the canteen will start to mumble about how crappy this whole idea of night shift is. I personally do not like to complain ( I’ve my blog to crib about anything..lol) and make it a point to keep the complainers ‘at bay’ but at night shifts I practically entertain them. You sit along with them and eat stuff which you would not have imagined to be edible in some other time in some other days. You take a walk in the dead-cold wishing you were left alone when with people who like to annoy you by annoying themselves. Rarely, you get to meet people who you would like to talk to and you open up like a just-erupt-volcano that scares the hell outta them.
This is when I decided to hire only insomniacs for night shift when and if I start my own organization and if night shifts are needed. Still, the only rosy/romantic part about these gruesome nights was the fact that I get to see all the sunrises – Mon to Fri. Awesome! Just like today, when am just back witnessing another rise of the day from the dark dead and continuing my blog with new hope. I get reminded of Brad Pitt in ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’. At some point In the movie, the wannabe-ballet dancer -lead actress loses hope over life and everything after a painful accident and Pitt drives her all the way to a secluded spot near a shore at dawn and makes her sit on a bench, offers her steaming tea and they together watch the rising sun in all its glory. Glistening tears, reflecting the first rays of sunlight roll down her cheeks when she knows what she knows at that moment. The tears of hers were not alone when I was watching the movie and even now as I write I salute the mind which produced such a thought, with warm tears of my own.
Life takes everyone up and down a roller-coaster of its own at a thought’s speed and I know my night shifts are no big deal in reality. This blog and the nights behind had been that of an insomniac in his delirium but for all that I am made up of, I know I will look for the early morning bird flapping its wings across the rising sun in the distant horizon, when I am driven back home in the morning.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
My Hit List!
I saw her leaving the theatre and was shocked to see she was carrying a baby, just as cute as she was. Immediately followed the procession of her sweet husband and mother-in-law and they were almost at the exit. I was standing frozen resisting my friends’ attempt to drag me out. Seemed they did not notice her. I don’t know what came over me; I just cried out, ‘Hey, that’s Preeti da!! to my friends who were near the exit too. It was then disaster struck!
Just as I started yelling to my guys over the loud noise of the speakers in the theatre, the song stopped abruptly and all that could be heard was my stupid shouting ricocheting off the walls and it seemed the world suddenly stopped for a moment to look “Who does this stupid voice belongs to?” and hmm..One of those times when you feel why won’t the earth just open up and take you in, hiding from the vicious eyes glaring at you.
Well, she, Preeti was my first crush! It was class V, yeah...you heard me... Memories came flooding back when I ducked my way through the crowd avoiding her not-so-sweet-looking-at-the-moment husband and it was then I decided my crush list will do good for my next blog…well, here we go for the kill…
It all started with Preeti when she joined our school, our class at 5th standard. A lil aside here for folks who think is it even possible to think about boy-girl dynamics at that age, well, sorry guys, you are on the wrong page and for rest of us we are cool…right on track.
She was this goddess or at least that’s how she appeared to us guys. I guess there was some goddess in every guy’s school life but this girl was like a goddess to all the guys in the class...lol. There used to be alternate seating arrangements every month when guys n gals would be shuffling locations and this is the time when the boys n girls would be asked to stand in line and random choice would decide who sits next to whom. Of course the class teacher had a large say in this ‘randomness’. By now a birdie would have guessed what could be the hot seat and the all-eyes-are-on seat. The one next to Preeti’s was the golden seat and whenever she is asked to sit somewhere, then would begin the push-pull-hit-dodge fight in the boys’ line and that day somewhere some angel smiled in her happy sleep and my teacher’s randomness picked me.
There I was walking in my glory with the itchy, spell-casting, greeny-green eyes all over me and sat next to her and gave her what I thought was my most romantic smile. She started laughing and oh boy was I happy…people are supposed to smile back when they are smiled at but she’s so happy that she wants to explode and laugh at my face. Wow!
At least that was what I thought or liked to think at that time!
A week and a fraction of second went by in actual time and my time respectively with Preeti next to me in class. It was then she was made the bench-leader (we had this intense concept back at our school, it would mean the better-ranked student would have veto power and total diplomatic control over the entire bench of 4 students) and she started acting like she was Hitler’s blood relative.
By the length of blog, you would’ve guessed by now I am a kinda guy who always has so much to say and I was a babbling brook back then too and she decided to build a dam across. It was then the bloodbath began! Every time I opened my mouth she started cribbing like a nagging housewife who a vexed husband would feel like burying alive. Then it went a level up when she started complaining to the class teacher about my sewing-machine-turned-mouth and the teacher gave her like total control over my mind, soul and body. She started with physical abuse one fine innocent day…yeah...I know...it gets interesting here…
It was a lazy noon and I was discussing with the guys about the extent of biological-knowledge we would be exposed to in class VI and that’s when she showed up baring her teeth with her beautiful lips.
Her: Shanmu, cant u ever keep ur mouth closed?
Me: yeah, when am asleep
Her: am gonna complain to the teacher now if u don’t stop talking
Me: ignores n mimics when she turns back
She got mad like a mad-cow by this time and grabbed and twisted my thigh in an impossible knot which made me defy gravity for like complete 5 seconds. I have never had any part of my body turn so red till this day and she was sitting there by my side all quiet like an innocent dove. I had turned into the ‘Incredible Shanmu’ by then and every inch of my body was crying revenge revenge…so revenge it was! An eye for an eye – A thigh for a thigh! I had pretty sharp nails for which I had specific use at that time (ok...am not gonna tell what it was for) and when she was least expecting I launched the guerilla attack on her thigh. I let my nails dig deep (people please, read this with the right spirit) in her thigh and pinched her for 10 whole seconds.
Next thing I know was my eardrum getting pierced by a shrill train whistling close by and later figured it was her larynx making that noise. She made sure every thing in the campus with ears heard her mellifluent scream and I was the reason behind the crime.
I was taken to the principal who looked at me like the devil-in-disguise and I could see other boys’ exalted faces with gleeful grin dripping nothing but pure ecstasy. I was a hero and villain at the same time. Rest was history...yup...real history...I was asked to apologise which I did to her thigh and even volunteered for a friendly hug which she refused to.
Well, that’s pretty much it! A helluva crush which came to an end with a pinch! Hmm…thought I would list out the rest of my crushes in this blog...but seems I got carried away. Rest of the stories some other time! Maybe in next blog – a part II. (Like it or not...there’s gonna be a part-2)
PS: the names of the crushes have been/would be changed...ahem..ahem..just to prevent the crushes from crushing me!!
Just as I started yelling to my guys over the loud noise of the speakers in the theatre, the song stopped abruptly and all that could be heard was my stupid shouting ricocheting off the walls and it seemed the world suddenly stopped for a moment to look “Who does this stupid voice belongs to?” and hmm..One of those times when you feel why won’t the earth just open up and take you in, hiding from the vicious eyes glaring at you.
Well, she, Preeti was my first crush! It was class V, yeah...you heard me... Memories came flooding back when I ducked my way through the crowd avoiding her not-so-sweet-looking-at-the-moment husband and it was then I decided my crush list will do good for my next blog…well, here we go for the kill…
It all started with Preeti when she joined our school, our class at 5th standard. A lil aside here for folks who think is it even possible to think about boy-girl dynamics at that age, well, sorry guys, you are on the wrong page and for rest of us we are cool…right on track.
She was this goddess or at least that’s how she appeared to us guys. I guess there was some goddess in every guy’s school life but this girl was like a goddess to all the guys in the class...lol. There used to be alternate seating arrangements every month when guys n gals would be shuffling locations and this is the time when the boys n girls would be asked to stand in line and random choice would decide who sits next to whom. Of course the class teacher had a large say in this ‘randomness’. By now a birdie would have guessed what could be the hot seat and the all-eyes-are-on seat. The one next to Preeti’s was the golden seat and whenever she is asked to sit somewhere, then would begin the push-pull-hit-dodge fight in the boys’ line and that day somewhere some angel smiled in her happy sleep and my teacher’s randomness picked me.
There I was walking in my glory with the itchy, spell-casting, greeny-green eyes all over me and sat next to her and gave her what I thought was my most romantic smile. She started laughing and oh boy was I happy…people are supposed to smile back when they are smiled at but she’s so happy that she wants to explode and laugh at my face. Wow!
At least that was what I thought or liked to think at that time!
A week and a fraction of second went by in actual time and my time respectively with Preeti next to me in class. It was then she was made the bench-leader (we had this intense concept back at our school, it would mean the better-ranked student would have veto power and total diplomatic control over the entire bench of 4 students) and she started acting like she was Hitler’s blood relative.
By the length of blog, you would’ve guessed by now I am a kinda guy who always has so much to say and I was a babbling brook back then too and she decided to build a dam across. It was then the bloodbath began! Every time I opened my mouth she started cribbing like a nagging housewife who a vexed husband would feel like burying alive. Then it went a level up when she started complaining to the class teacher about my sewing-machine-turned-mouth and the teacher gave her like total control over my mind, soul and body. She started with physical abuse one fine innocent day…yeah...I know...it gets interesting here…
It was a lazy noon and I was discussing with the guys about the extent of biological-knowledge we would be exposed to in class VI and that’s when she showed up baring her teeth with her beautiful lips.
Her: Shanmu, cant u ever keep ur mouth closed?
Me: yeah, when am asleep
Her: am gonna complain to the teacher now if u don’t stop talking
Me: ignores n mimics when she turns back
She got mad like a mad-cow by this time and grabbed and twisted my thigh in an impossible knot which made me defy gravity for like complete 5 seconds. I have never had any part of my body turn so red till this day and she was sitting there by my side all quiet like an innocent dove. I had turned into the ‘Incredible Shanmu’ by then and every inch of my body was crying revenge revenge…so revenge it was! An eye for an eye – A thigh for a thigh! I had pretty sharp nails for which I had specific use at that time (ok...am not gonna tell what it was for) and when she was least expecting I launched the guerilla attack on her thigh. I let my nails dig deep (people please, read this with the right spirit) in her thigh and pinched her for 10 whole seconds.
Next thing I know was my eardrum getting pierced by a shrill train whistling close by and later figured it was her larynx making that noise. She made sure every thing in the campus with ears heard her mellifluent scream and I was the reason behind the crime.
I was taken to the principal who looked at me like the devil-in-disguise and I could see other boys’ exalted faces with gleeful grin dripping nothing but pure ecstasy. I was a hero and villain at the same time. Rest was history...yup...real history...I was asked to apologise which I did to her thigh and even volunteered for a friendly hug which she refused to.
Well, that’s pretty much it! A helluva crush which came to an end with a pinch! Hmm…thought I would list out the rest of my crushes in this blog...but seems I got carried away. Rest of the stories some other time! Maybe in next blog – a part II. (Like it or not...there’s gonna be a part-2)
PS: the names of the crushes have been/would be changed...ahem..ahem..just to prevent the crushes from crushing me!!
Monday, November 16, 2009
Memento Mori!
It was a cold and mushy night cracking into dawn at its own sweet pace. I was waiting idly for the bus which would take me home. Looking at the people weaving around in all directions stopped amusing me when it started raining and what began as a caress on the nape turned very soon to naughty slaps on the back.
I took refuge in a tea shop nearby which soon began to get filled with refugees like me. Sipping a tea and wondering why tea tastes better when it rains I let my eyes wander through the gathering crowd in the shop. There were people of all ages huddling together without inhibitions; some with cigarettes and some with tea glasses but both cursing the downpour. I pulled my windcheater close to my body and looked at an older looking person who seemed amused a lot. Following his gaze, I realized he had been looking at the tea shop guy. The shop guy was wearing a ragged vest and a lungi and was too busy with his work to notice anything or anybody else except his stove and glasses.
Streaks of rosy light painted in the eastern sky promised a quicker dawn and the rains seemed to slow down. Though it was partly dark inside the shop, I couldn’t help noticing what had amused the older looking guy who was still looking at the tea master. The tea master’s hands with tea glasses in each fist had this repeating fluid motion; first his one hand will rise upwards and then fall down with the steamy liquid expertly swirling in the vacuum in between and finding its destination in the second glass in the other fist. The intense, focused face; the delicate finesse of his deft fingers and the perfect coordination of his torso. It was a masterful symphony! He was slowly transcending into an opera conductor right in front of my eyes and when I realized I heard a familiar honk, I got out of my trance and started walking towards my bus.
That’s when I heard the older guy say something like “You are really quick and perfect at what you do; very fascinating!” to the tea master and I turned just in time to capture an image which would get permanently registered in my memory bank. There was a blank expression on the tea master’s face for a micro second and then it happened. Just like the petals of a blooming flower unfolds, there unfurled an effulgent smile in his face which seemed to challenge the approaching dawn. His actions froze in mid-air for a fleeting moment in which he managed to nod to the older guy who was already leaving and resumed his work as ever but the smile on his face remained. I got into my bus and took the window seat and looked back at him for the last time. The child-like smile on the face was still there radiating his whole being and people around him. I knew at that moment it was a smile I might never see again, a smile taking its source from the heart; a smile without pretense or fear or deceit or doubt; a smile that knows what it takes to smile such a smile.
The sun was already out!
I took refuge in a tea shop nearby which soon began to get filled with refugees like me. Sipping a tea and wondering why tea tastes better when it rains I let my eyes wander through the gathering crowd in the shop. There were people of all ages huddling together without inhibitions; some with cigarettes and some with tea glasses but both cursing the downpour. I pulled my windcheater close to my body and looked at an older looking person who seemed amused a lot. Following his gaze, I realized he had been looking at the tea shop guy. The shop guy was wearing a ragged vest and a lungi and was too busy with his work to notice anything or anybody else except his stove and glasses.
Streaks of rosy light painted in the eastern sky promised a quicker dawn and the rains seemed to slow down. Though it was partly dark inside the shop, I couldn’t help noticing what had amused the older looking guy who was still looking at the tea master. The tea master’s hands with tea glasses in each fist had this repeating fluid motion; first his one hand will rise upwards and then fall down with the steamy liquid expertly swirling in the vacuum in between and finding its destination in the second glass in the other fist. The intense, focused face; the delicate finesse of his deft fingers and the perfect coordination of his torso. It was a masterful symphony! He was slowly transcending into an opera conductor right in front of my eyes and when I realized I heard a familiar honk, I got out of my trance and started walking towards my bus.
That’s when I heard the older guy say something like “You are really quick and perfect at what you do; very fascinating!” to the tea master and I turned just in time to capture an image which would get permanently registered in my memory bank. There was a blank expression on the tea master’s face for a micro second and then it happened. Just like the petals of a blooming flower unfolds, there unfurled an effulgent smile in his face which seemed to challenge the approaching dawn. His actions froze in mid-air for a fleeting moment in which he managed to nod to the older guy who was already leaving and resumed his work as ever but the smile on his face remained. I got into my bus and took the window seat and looked back at him for the last time. The child-like smile on the face was still there radiating his whole being and people around him. I knew at that moment it was a smile I might never see again, a smile taking its source from the heart; a smile without pretense or fear or deceit or doubt; a smile that knows what it takes to smile such a smile.
The sun was already out!
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