Saturday, December 25, 2010

Dreary Christmas

It's the most wonderful time of the year :P
With the kids all yelling
And everyone telling you "Don’t you drink beer" 
It's the most wonderful time of the year :P
It's the hap-happiest season of all ;)
With awkward meetings and status and tweetings 
When friends come to call 
It's the hap- happiest season of all  (Ohh yeah!)

There'll be parties for hosting 
Plenty of boasting 
And everyone blows..  
There'll be scary childhood stories 
And tales of the boring 
Christmases long, long ago 

It's the most wonderful time of the year :P
There'll be twisting and turning  
And hearts will be  burning
When relatives are near 
It's the most wonderful time of the year (yeah ryte)

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

A poem by Nida Fazli.

Safar me dhoop to hogi
Jo chal sako to chalo. 

Sabhi hain bheed me,
Jo tum nikal sako, to chalo. 

kai manzilein, raaste hain yahaan;
Bane banaaye saanche hain yahaan, 
Jo inme dhal sako to chalo. 

Kisi ke liye kahaan raahein badalti hain, 
Jo apne aap ko badal sako to chalo. 

Koi kisi ke liye raasta nahi dega, 
jo mujhko giraakar tum sambhal sako,
To chalo. 

Sabhi ko hai mehfuz raaston ki talaash,
hifaazaton ki rivaayat badal sako to chalo. 
Kahin koi suraj nahi, Dhua dhua sa hai fiza,
Apne aap se baahar nikal sako to chalo. 

Bas yahi hai zindagi; 
Kucch khwaab, chand ummidein, 
Jo in khilounon se dil behla sako to chalo. 

                     ----    Nida Fazli.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Sleepy half baked memories

Smile 2Image via Wikipedia

Sometimes in the empty thoughts that crowd my mind, I see familiar faces. Faces that once stood for something. Smiling, laughing, joking, and yet strange in their appearance. I remember them, but I do not know why I remember them. Why do people affect you in so many ways, when you do not even talk to them that long? Yet, there I am, plagued by these bitter sweet memories, trying to remember why I remember them. They are long lost friends. People who did me a favor or two. Dates that I never repeated. Strange encounters on the bus and trains.

Sometimes when I am lonely and lost, when times seem too difficult to make conversations with people around me, I recall them. And usually, they are stuck in that perennially happy moment. And I stand at a corner of this imaginary dream and watch them laughing, joking and smiling. And I like to think they remained like that forever. Nameless, they light up my day without any reason. If you have seen me staring at blank walls and smile, you know what I am talking about. But somehow, that is a moment I remember these characters in. And in that moment when smiles become identifications, I can see my heart lighten up and smile. Some people smoke, some drink, I just lose myself in memories. Cheaper, simpler and well, no side effects.  

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Thursday, October 21, 2010

Sick to the Stomach

Stomach diagram in Inkscape.Image via Wikipedia

The veins on my hand stand out. It feels numb, cold and strange. In many ways, it is not my hand at all. Punctured and poked with so many holes, in order to feed my body, it has lost all its strength. My stomach rumbles; craving for some comfort food, and yet all I have by my side is bland porridge and cold milk. The first gulp I take feels like cold metal entering through dead, rusty pipes into an old warehouse. What did they do to me? Did they strip me of all my senses? Can I no longer taste, smell, see like before? My eyes burn like I have never used them before. I try to take a few steady steps before stumbling back. Parched throat and hungry stomach add to the sapping weakness that makes up my singular structure.

Sickness can do so much to a human being. It can rebuild him, change him, or destroy him. Or like in my case, it can chew him up completely and spit him out; leaving the remaining to be sucked out by the merciless world. All I can do is wait!  
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Thursday, September 30, 2010

Leaving Memories..

In MemoryImage via Wikipedia

I’ll remember you
When someone talks too loud,
When one person speaks enough for a crowd,
When people enter the room like a storm,
When insanity becomes the norm,
When I hear the hauntingly annoying tune of a song,
When meaningless conversations run for too long,
When I hear another one of those weird sneezes,
That make me sit up and go ‘Jesus’!
I’ll remember you;

I’ll remember you
For all the silly stupid, nonsensical things that you do,
Because you truly were off your jack,
You were the crackhead who was not on crack,
But that is what made you so cool,
Although you behave like a fool,
I’ll remember you;

And this is exactly why,
Although I may fail
I promise to try,
And remember you.
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Monday, September 27, 2010


PovertyImage by carlaarena via Flickr

They mill around us in noisy silences

Hungry cries renting our musical silences

And we shall turn our eyes away

As far as our conscience has turned

To places and dreams faraway

Hoping these starving stomachs have burned

But they remain.

Like ghosts of unburied pasts;

their hungry, naked bodies crying for help.

For a piece of bread in our hands;

But there are barriers in between

We, who will feed a dog, before we feed our brothers,

We, taught to look at them as dogs,

Dogs are better, they share

Us; we just don’t care. 

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Sunday, September 26, 2010

I see life

Description unavailableImage by may the circle remain unbroken via Flickr

I see life
Thirsting, panting, crying
I see life
Waiting, wanting, buying;
I see life
Breathing, cursing, ranting
I see life
Seething, raging, recanting
I see life
preaching, teaching, writing
I see life
hurting, stealing, fighting
And all through this myriad world
I see life
Living and Dying.
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Sunday, August 22, 2010

600 Bucks for Reconciliation

These photos were taken when Jamie, Melissa, T...Image via Wikipedia
This was a big day. They had been waiting for this day for; I don’t know how many years. So was I. I remember a time, when going to a hotel was a big occasion. This was a once in 6 month feature when I got to taste something other than the usual rice-rasam. But it had been a long time since we had done this together. Just me and my parents. I stopped at the ATM with both my mom and dad following me into the counter. It was funny looking at my dad, who was warning me against drawing too much and the look on my mom’s face on seeing the working of the ATM. She kept asking me how it worked at least twice since then. I felt like a teacher taking kids on a school picnic. For once I was grown up.

I eat with them every day. My mom never starts dinner without me, and yet I never realized the distance between us. As I stared across the blue tablecloth and wondered what to speak, I realized that I had never had a proper informal conversation with them in a very long time. It must have been before my teens that I would have spoken to them without fear or hesitation. It felt odd. I could notice their apprehension in ordering and my mom’s eyes kept skirting the price line. I smiled. Some things never change.
I don’t know when the distance had set in. Maybe it was after my failures. But it had grown too big. I meet them everyday, see them and speak to them every day. And yet, we have not had one proper conversation. Dinners are spent across the television sets and the rest of the day in a blank radio silence. And yet, there they were; across the table looking through the menu and choosing the food. Silently…

Soon we were talking and joking. Like long lost friends who just met each other across the street. The early hesitation had melted away into familiarity. By the third course, we were talking about how much I had changed. My father had never eaten so much and neither had mom. Maybe I had never given them that much to eat. I was caught in the no-man’s land of sentimentality and nostalgia. Where everything you see reminds you of something that makes you want to cry. I couldn’t. Not now.

I paid the bill and looked at my dad’s face smiling at me. I could see that he wanted to say something and was holding it back. I knew what it was. We walked out the lobby and got into the rick to go home. My mom looked at me and said ‘Thank you.’ Was that how big a jerk I had become? My parents had to thank me for treating them to a good meal. Was this how far we had grown apart? I didn’t know the answers but I didn’t want to. I just wanted to hug them and cry, cry like I never wanted to let go. But I couldn’t. I was too stunned at my own stupidity.
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Sunday, August 15, 2010

Selling God At Discounted Rates

Ganpati bappa morya.. pudchya varshi VOTE dya!Image by FrogStarB via Flickr

The knock hits my door like a splash of water on a sleepy face. I open my eyes drowsily dreading who it might be. Its already august and festivals are on us. Rakhi, Independence Day, and Ganeshotsav rise to prominence in this month of fading rains and rising humidity.   I don’t mind festivals, what I mind is sponsoring them. I hate the fact that certain very enterprising entrepreneurs in our society would stoop to the level of using my liberalism as an excuse to collect money. In simple terms, I hate to pay for someone else’s party. So what if it is God himself? If he is so big, he ought to know to take care of himself.

I opened the door to see the jackass with his entire flock smiling at me. ‘Kya hai bey?’  was my first reaction. ‘For ganpati.’   ‘What for ganpati?’  ‘Collection?’   ‘What are you collecting specifically?’   I had by now made up my mind to annoy these guys, as they had annoyed my sleep.  ‘C’mon yaar! Stop playing around.’  I looked at him. Is he really dumb, or do you have to be like this when you are borrowing money?   ‘Listen brother! Appreciate what you are doing here. But I am not interested in paying money for your charade.’  His eyebrows knotted up ‘This is for a good cause’     ‘Really? Are you going to be donating this money to cancer affected children? To the disabled army veterans or to the alcoholics anonymous? Huh!’    ‘Eh…no but…’    ‘Well, then, no. Thank you…Check somewhere else.’

By now my dad had arrived from his shaving ritual and heard the last line. ‘ Shriram!! Stop talking nonsense and give them money!’     ‘I am not going to. If you want, do the honors yourself.’    ‘Uncle, chalega. You give na!’  Oh! Smart move a-hole… You are a salesman.  My dad came to the door with his purse. He picked out a green hundred note and passed it over.  ‘Sorry uncle. Fixed rate hai. 201 Rs.’    What the…!! I couldn’t resist     ‘Pata nahi tha, Ganpati ka bhaav badh gaya! Sorry, we will check some other place. It’s too costly for us.’    That wiped the smirk off the face of both my father and the entire collection team.  My dad was solidly pissed by now.  ‘He is just like that. No respect for tradition. An anti-society mentality! Sorry re… here you go.’ He handed over the money.  I smiled, BTW, that’s anti-societal, dad. Not anti-society. J

I am really pissed that morality and religiousness go hand in hand in society. It is not necessary to be a god fearing individual in order to be morally and ethically correct. But the opposite is always true. You can’t collect money for god on compulsion. You can’t tell me to pay up 200 bucks, on the refusal of which you will term me an unsocial and an immoral bastard. I refuse to be held ransom by people’s opinions. And I do not think the Elephant headed god himself, would mind not being dumped in the oil contaminated ocean for once this year! I hate the fact that what started as a social gathering to integrate people has turned into a competition between money minded groups, creating a platform for corporates to plant their names on billboards larger than the statues themselves. If there is a god, I am sure he is pretty pissed at the way we are using his name.  No wonder, he does not speak to us anymore. 

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Saturday, August 14, 2010

Morning thoughts

Crystal City - All Hail the Lightning SunImage by Mo Kaiwen 莫楷文 via Flickr

Staring at broad daylight
Wishing it was night
Falling with the stars in the sky
White as lightning, dark as night,
I stand at the edge of the horizon
When vision fades out of sight
All you can see is the sun, the moon
And the stars watching over your head
While I watch over their lights
Everything melts into serenity
Life stares at you and death smiles;
Love sits by your side
And talks you through the night
So in the morning when I wake
And see the fading sky light
I wonder if this was just a dream
Am I feeling all right?
And yet somehow everything seems fine
Till the time I have you in my sight. 

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Wednesday, August 04, 2010

To say or not to say

Heartbreak in StereoImage via Wikipedia

Every time I look at you
There is something new
Is it the hair, the clothes?
Or is it just you?
Sitting there in a crowded bus,
Swishing the hair from your face
As you read that stupid novel
Something from James Hadley Chase.
I stand there watching;
Watching you read and smile,
While the raindrops splash on the window
And the bus crosses another mile.
The way you look at me
When you catch me staring
I wish I said what I felt
I wish I was a bit more daring.
I don’t know if you ever realized
What I felt and didn’t say
I wonder if you looked into my eyes
And knew it on the first day,
That I might never forget you
I wonder if you ever knew.
Would it make a difference?
Would you really care?
Wish I knew the answers
I really wish, I do. 
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Friday, July 30, 2010

Death in a dream

Doktor SleeplessImage via Wikipedia
Darkness descends with a gleam,
Upon steel manors in sleepless dreams;
When broken hearts struggle and gasp
For that one evasive breath,
It slips in by the bedstead and whispers
‘Fear not. I am death.’

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Monday, July 05, 2010

Turning old.... but first....

So I got to thinking today, and realized I was turning old. I know, because …I am a smart guy. And of course, some people have started giving me signs. Its dangerous. I have come to notice that aging is fatal Most people who age tend to …well, simply put, die. I know, it’s the law of life, course of nature and government conspiracy and all, but I really don’t wanna do that. Not till I have gone on a date with Deepika padukone, or Sonam Kapoor. I am good for both. Anyways, I am digressing. The point is that I have never known what to do with my life. Not my fault, there never was a rulebook given to me when I came out my mom. So I went with the flow. Followed my chi, shot in the dark and so on. I’ve been some bad places and some really freaking bad ass ones (which I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you). But it has been interesting for me. That does not mean that there aren’t things that I do not want to do. There are. So, before I get back to the fatal task of aging, I decided I would add another one of the lists that I am increasingly becoming fond of. So here goes. A list of things I wanna do before I turn thirty ( or die) whichever is before.

10. To be on the cover of a magazine, even if it is my own. (Damn!! Should’ve done that last year…Never mind)

9. To learn swimming. My friends seem to be very fond of water and places around them, and not so fond of me. Better do this before next week.

8. To learn to dance the salsa, the flamenco or tap dance. Or maybe just learn to move to the music without stepping on somebody. That would be nice.

7. To learn to drive….a car. I know I drive people crazy already, but it would be fun if they knew I could ‘drive’ crazy too!

6. I want to get published. You know, write a book and be paid for it. A Booker or a Pulitzer on the side would be nice too. :)

5. To get into a fight. Seriously. How can you trust a guy who never got into a fight, huh? And PS : I am not psychotic. I can get psychiatric references to prove that.

4. To build a six pack. Now I know that I have a naturally, attractive (sexy) ravishing physique. But I am really trying to work in the fitness angle here.

3. To go bungee jumping. Come to think of it, this is the less crazier of the things I’ve mentioned. The dancing should’ve been here.

2. To learn to play the guitar. Or the drums. Or the f***ing tambourine. Anything that I can impress a girl with. My humour doesn’t seem to work. Seriously.

1. Now the number one was very hard to decide. It was a tie between running down the streets naked and going on a roadtrip But the unlikely winner, was decided by intuition. It is something that i've admired and envied in others. An ability to love something/someone to death.

I am counting every day trying to make these happen. Care to lend a hand ;)?

Sunday, June 27, 2010

A personal survey

So, I heard my friends speak about me and realized they have a lot of mistaken opinions about me. So I wanted to know if everybody has the same opinions. Will help clear a lot of doubts about myself. So I have decided to make a questionnaire that I keep asking myself but find no answer to. It is hard to judge oneself. So please help me….

1. What is the one thing that makes me stand out? (I like to start with something goodJ)

2. What is the one thing that you absolutely hate about me?

3. One thing you would warn people who meet me for the first time about.

4. One thing you would like to see me change in myself

5. One thing you would absolutely not like me to change in myself

6. A career that you think I would be good at

7. One thing that, according to you, I can never do

8. Tell me one thing you would like to hear me say

9. Tell me one thing you would not like to hear me say

10. Finally, how would you remember me when I am dead.

Please, I am sending this out as an SOS…. Please be honest, and if possible. Good. I will give my defense of my actions in my further blogs…. So go ahead, crap the shite outta me… This is your chance.

PS : for people wondering how to write the comments….. just put number and answer the qstn… I expect some answers…

Thanks a lot for helping me on this matter. Your help is valuable to me. J

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

The Mother

I stood on the kerb

Blowing smoke fairies

Into the misty grey skies

When I saw her child’s eyes

Bright as the sun and dark as the night

He was her day and night

I knew that for I knew her

She was a mother

Begging for her child’s hunger

Feeding her with her own life

Fighting death with her own blood

Till she dies, she lives

Living to not let him die;

I could not speak

The water choked my voice

Blinded my eyes

Just like it did hers

When she cried for help

When her child lay dying

In her lap

The same place where she gave him life

She watched him die.

Monday, June 07, 2010

Big Fat Liar : Why i lie...

I’ve been lying since my birth. I don’t know why, but I love it. It’s an art, like acting .You get into a different character and try to replicate the exact situation, and events just like they could probably happen. I hate to brag, but I am so good at this, that I can lie looking into people’s eyes. And what do I tell you about the adrenal rush? It’s like drinking whisky and trying to stand on the ledge of the window. But the simplest thing about lying is that it is not emotional, psychological or social. It’s just plain mathematics. Your capacity to lie is inversely proportional to your character on the consciential scale (sic) while being directly proportional to your character on the social scale. So, the better you lie, the better people believe you; except for the fact that you sometimes have trouble believing yourself. So how do you lie better than before?

1. Start early: Lying at an early age helps you to gauge people’s attitudes and temperament. Very helpful.

2. Lie big: People are more often likely to believe an unbelievable thing than a normal thing.

3. Be careful, but never be afraid: Try to make sure you lie carefully, never leave out anything. Even the minutest details can mess things up badly.

4. Lie good: Strange as it may sound, lie for the right reasons. If you can get away with the truth, speak truth. The lie is a more sacred weapon that has to be used rarely and carefully.

5. Remember your lies: Most important. Never forget them. Even if someone asks you about it a hundred years later,repeat the same story in exact details.. This will make your lies last longer and you will be more truthful than ever ;)

6. When caught, lie better: If you are caught when lying, which you will be, never be afraid to lie again. But lie better and more convincingly.

7. Never lose your cool: As hard as it is, you should never lose your cool when lying. Raising your voice, fidgeting, tip tapping, hum-hawing, or looking away is a strict no-no. Never ever do that if you want to be a good liar.

8. Liar liar pants on fire: Yeah, the saying is true. So think your act through. Don’t rush into the story. Make it up calmly as you go along.

9. Logic: Never lose touch of that. Regardless of how fictitious your account is, never lose that shade of logic. It makes it that much more incredulous.

10. You will be caught: Remember, you still will be caught some day. That’s the catch. It is eventual and inevitable. I am just helping you prolong it. See, I am the good guy.

If you want any further details on the art of lying and cheating, you can contact me by mail. Of course, I also provide help with affairs and scams. These extra deals would cost some nominal profit sharing. I have deals for all scales and kinds of budget, and lies. So you want to be a big, fat liar, you know who to hire!

Friday, May 28, 2010

You Know You are Grown Up When ...

Life is a long journey to undertake and every once in a while you cross a landmark that you thought was still miles away. I have reached one such stage. There used to be days when i thought this would never happen, but much to my parents' surprise and my own horror, this day has arrived when i am living. I feel like i just had my skin peeled off. There is a sense or burning pain, but i have grown up. There is no doubt. How do i know? Well,

You Know You Have Grown When

  1. One of your friends gets married every second month leaving you really wondering if you're that old.
  2. Conversation among your friends revolves around Real Estate Prices, mutual funds and the share market and not movies, girls and .... you knw ;)
  3. The kid you used to babysit now talks to you about Metallica and Iron Maiden.
  4. Unemployment is no longer a proletariat symbol but an embarassment, and you worry about the low pay package you have in comparison to others
  5. You call it a night and turn off the lights at 11 pm.
  6. All the girls you hit on are working and treat you like a kid, while the ones you stare at are younger (where is my generation)
  7. The Jeans pant never leaves the shelf before Friday and printed t shirts in Yellow, orange and red colors begin to look too weird on you
  8. You walk into a departmental store asking for rubber, and the guy goes 'Check the Medical next door' ( True story!!)
  9. The movies, music and matches you watched are now being termed as 'Classics'
  10. Drinks mean Scotch, Beer, Vodka,Rum......i think you got the point. They used to mean pepsi(50 ps waale) and nimbu paani once upon a time.
Is that Enough? Cos I got more if you want.....

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Shall I see you Again?

Shall I see you again?

Smiling at me for reasons unknown

Shall I see you again?

Shall I see you again?

Walking through crowded streets

Hair trailing in the wind,

At dead tired bus stops

Outside crowded street shops

Shall I see you again?

When I am tired and beaten

With all the world’s weariness

Burning with stress

Shall I see you again?

When the whole world has gone to sleep

Amid dark days and darker nights

Between warm sheets and cold breezes

Between sniffles and sneezes

Shall I see you again?

In sleepless nights and weary days

When I tire of my stupid ways

When I long for someone

I could talk freely to

When memories attack me

And there is nothing else left to do

I shall walk down the same old road

Thinking about long lost ages

I will hum and sing an old weary note

And turn my life’s pages

And there standing in a corner

Surrounded by smiling faces

I shall see you again

One more time

I shall see you Again!

Sunday, May 09, 2010

10 Things I Won't Do today

This is the last day of my beginning. From now the middle begins, and will eventually end. I am no more the person I thought I would be. Things change, so do people. A lot of things have changed for me. Today will see the beginning of some changes and the end of many routines. I am listing some of them for your convenience.
  1. I will not wake up at 10 ‘o clock and eat breakfast at lunch
  2. I will not carry the unshaven, grumpy look ( My mom’s glad about that)
  3. I will not be seen in my crumpled tee and dirty blue jeans.
  4. I will not wear my slippers everywhere anymore
  5. I will not drink tea at 2 in the afternoon and again at 5 in the evening.
  6. I will not say ‘yes’ to the next plan my friends make without thinking twice
  7. I will not be online in the middle of the day (tentative)
  8. I will not be shirtless and sitting on the top of the water tank at midnight.
  9. I will not be home till 8 in the evening.
  10. I most certainly will not be unemployed.
I’d like to add a bit more. But I’ll save that for later.

Wednesday, May 05, 2010


Sun Rise at Baner Hill.Image via Wikipedia
The wind blew in from the south, bringing in the waves with renewed zest. I sat facing the west. The sea’s vast expanse lay sprawled before me, as the waves lolled to a restless stop at the foot of the rocks. Around me couples crowded in cuddly love, savouring the attention some others gave them. I could hear my friends laughing and fooling around. I stayed away, trying to enjoy the moment.
In those few moments of absolute solitude, I relaxed. I lost myself in the sounds of the sea crashing against the wet rocks. I listened to the sound of little wings flapping vainly against strong gusts. I watched the sun dip his orange fingers into the grey waters, staining the sky with a pink shade. I watched an artist at work, painting a large canvas. I stayed still, not wanting to move. I became a part of the painting.
How many moments like these have I lost? Scores? millions? In search of something more vibrant, I have lost silence. I have lost the joy of listening. The primal joy of sitting empty upon a wet rock and watching the waves come and go. Staying up all night just to watch the sun rise. Sitting empty and silent watching the sun set. Moments that make you feel someone was there to share. And yet, you knew to utter a word would destroy the moment. To wish for friends who look at you and know you are lost somewhere. To know that regardless of how long you take, they will wait.
We left soon. But I did not. I stayed there. Looking at the sea long after the sun had gone. Long after I could see anything. I stayed there longing for the peace of those few moments. Wanting a piece back from time, when my heartbeat breathed a sigh of relief.
Everything seems so finite and limited. But don’t you think that is what makes these times and moments so special?
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Saturday, May 01, 2010

The Man Without A Past

I can see him swaying in the sweltering sun. The mud clings to his skin, like magical powder; leaving a trail on the road as he walks. He is silent, like his eyes. Dead and dreamy. His entire persona is a contradiction in itself. His clothes, once respectable are now torn and grimy. The spit, sweat and vomit that has deposited themselves over the years rises as fumes around him. Funny as it may sound, that is his aura. People passing him try to stop breathing. He does not care. He walks his own road. Twisting and turning, going zigzag, down a straight cemented path. The world tries to ignore him, as he does the same. He is naked bottom down. His skin has turned black over the years, a sticky kind of black. His shirt is barely enough to cover his modesty. But who cares? Not him. Some cringe at his sight, some walk faster, some just stop and crack a joke, and some others laugh at that. I stare and wonder. Who is he? Does anyone know him? Did he have a family? Where are they? How does he live? How does he find food? Does he have a past? I have asked everyone in my locality. They know nothing. And yet they all agree on one thing. He has been around for a very long time. He goes on past me. Not blinking once, not turning or stopping. On and on to an unknown destination. Some place he might call home.

We are born into clichés and grow into them. We are taught to be what we should be.even if we chose to be something different, there is a cliché for that too. We are bound by a group, by its past. We are products of our past, and struggle to keep up its name and status. We all have a past to live up to, and a past to create for others to live up to. He has none.

Monday, April 26, 2010


082-Last Cold FarewellImage by gingerpig2000 via Flickr
Goodbye – probably the easiest thing to say and best said without emotions clouding your judgement, said with a smile plastered across your numb face. People believe it. Their faces will smile the same way, numb in the moment and honest. They move on, but do you? They are just faces that dotted your memories for a moment or two of your travels. Moments of empty conversations in filled classrooms. Moments spent at tapris with burning cigarettes and outside stalls with oily vadas in soiled hands. Memories are easy to forget, once you accumulate more of them. You just need to keep walking that far. Someday, these faces might confront you and you won’t even remember their names, but till then you will remember. Strange and unknown faces, that you saw everyday. Imagining that you knew them as they know you. Faces you looked forward to meeting. Awaiting their arrival with a weird anticipation. Faces that made you feel you are not the lone sucker in this shitland. There are more like you. Wondering, waiting and struggling. You loved them for the sense of companionship that they provided, even if it be fo a little while. You lived in those few moments that allowed you to be who you are. You wanted to fit in. Nothing is warmer than a smile at the end of a tiring day that says “This too shall pass.” A hand on the shoulder that said “Cheer up! You piece of shit! You got it better than us.” And nothing can beat that poor joke cracked in the midst of a serious deadpan conversation. Intentional or unintentional, it was welcome. I said goodbye to all that. With a deadpan face that had a smile stuck on it. A smile, I couldn’t feel.

I bid farewell to meetings under ancient trees. I bid farewell to borrowing credit on lunch food, to fights over silly change. I bid farewell to the ‘cigarette of the day’, that made us think better. I bid farewell to ideas thought up in crowded trains that got off at the next station and were lost in the streets at night. I bid farewell to early exits at boring examinations. I bid farewell to foolish discussions. I bid farewell to violent girls and vain boys. I bid farewell to hope and joy. I bid farewell to getting embarrassed and letting the blood to my face. I bid farewell to a foolish heart and its hopeless ways. I bid farewell to an awkward beginning and a pallid end. I bid farewell to all my friends. If we meet again, we meet again.
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