Let Go!

All I see, it's not for me.
What I want you have not got.
Tried to use the things you sold me no matter what the cost.
Tried to go the way you told me, but each time I got lost.
The stairs didn't lead me anywhere.

I'm taking the fire escape up to the roof.
Don't care if it's not the way you find the truth.
Time to make this climb, to rise

Above this room, and all of you.
Who say I should do like you would.

Tried to live the life you sold me no matter what the cost.
Tried to walk the way you told me, but each time I got lost.
The stairs didn't lead me anywhere.

I'm taking the fire escape up to the roof.
Don't care if it's not the way you find the truth.
And when I get up that high, I don't know what I'll find,
But I'd rather look at the sky than wonder why I let you take my time.

Time to make this climb, to rise above

Bikini Monster

This chick Celina Jaitley? She appeared in this unflattering bikini playing a violin in the ocean. She has her eyes closed (thanks TOI for this gem) for she was too shy to appear on screen in them 2 pieces. Heh. So much so for feminism and these Miss World/ Universe contests picking "beauty with a purpose".

Its that time of the night again

My neighbors are at it again. I need to find out what position and or method of amorous love making makes the wall go bump, badoom,bhump,dhump

Sane Ravings

Oft quoted in "About me"s is "Take Life as it comes"

1) Does that mean we have a choice?
2) If so, does that allude to take the path of least resistance?
3) If so, is that the right thing to do?

Ever notice how the ones that accuse you of some emotion are guilty to it themselves, more than you in fact?

Why does music do whatever it does? I think music is the greatest proof that energy can be spawned. A thought starts in the aritsts' mind. It evolves into lyrics sheets, music notes and compositions. That translates to vibrations on the strings and percussion on skins. Each song exudes a part of the artists' soul. The feelings and emotions are picked up as voltages by equipment and stored as innocuous 0s and 1s. The disc then plays far away, years after the thought first lit up someone's mind. The longitudinal waves invade the spaces of the inner ear and impluses furiously travel up and down the superhighway. The all powerful machine churns thoughts and the soul is richer, fuller and free to roam the spaces of infinte pleasure. People will talk of how one form of energy is converted to another and nothing is lost or gained. Wrong. The artists soul is in every song and yet there's always enough for the next song. The listner whether in that laser filled show or in the dark confines of his cluttered apartment is enthralled by the charm and yet not bound to physical existance.

I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless but not for long
The future is coming on

I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless but not for long
The future is coming on
It's coming on, it's coming on
(Rah, yeah)
It's coming on, it's coming on

Finally someone let me out of my cage
Now time for me is nothin' 'cos I'm counting no age
Now I couldn't be there now you shouldn't be scared
I'm good at repairs and I'm under each snare
Intangible (ah y'all) I bet you didn't think so
I command you to, panoramic view (you)
Look I'll make it all manageable
Pick and choose, sit and lose
All you different crews
Chicks and dudes, who you think is really kicking tunes

Picture you getting down and I'll picture too
Like you lit the fuse
You think it's fictional, mystical - maybe
Spiritual hero who appears on you to clear your view (yeah)
When you're too crazy
Lifeless for whose definition is for what life is
Priceless to you because I put ya on the hype shift
Did ya like it?
Gut smokin' righteous but one talkin' psychic
But among knows possess you with one though

I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless but not for long
The future is coming on

Any Desis in the house tonite?

This guy has me laughing with milk spilling through my nose. Too good yaar!!

Hatelist

Been boringly sappy lately. Time to pay a refreshing visit to all that I hate

1) Possessive pricks. No, I dont want to get into your girlfriend's pants. She's too ugly. No I dont want to keep that rotten old vessel, I picked it up by mistake.

2) Opinionated jerks. Look a-hole, you arent right all the time and I don't need to hear what you say. Sure being 10 years older than me makes you FEEL wiser and experienced, but no, you're a dickhead. Stop offering your insight into matters that dont concern you, which in your case is EVERYTHING

3) Women bitching about their periods. Too bad its 3-5 days of hell and pre and post MS. You were made that way - deal with it. We suffer your mood swings enough. We dont need to and dont want understand the shyte you go through. And yes, I know you have a fancy blog, I dont need to know about your "sufferings" however well you disguise it. Next time things get hard, do everyone a favor. Use that magnum on yourself. Meanwhile, go make me a sandwich

4) Superhero movies. Superman has a kid. Batman looks batty. Spiderman wants to hump the mirror. Screw you all. When I see a superhero film, I want to see a superhero, not the human side of an alien. If I want reality, I'll go see Survivor. Superhero movies are meant to be detached from reality, so stick to the nonsense will you?

5) SMS retards. How difficult is it to type a full line in god damned english? Yes punching alphabets on a sucky 3.5 in cell phone screen is tough for someone of your intellect and patience, but why the fish do you use the same style on a 106 keys keyboard? Grow up, will you type your miserable little resume in SMS?

6) Readers. What the deuce were you expecting here? Am I supposed to hold your attention? Make you think perhaps? So that you can respond with a "LOL" maybe? You werent meant to read this. Do something useful, pull a trigger, for example

One breath away

From Wikipedia

In language, a metaphor (from the Greek: metapherin) is a rhetorical trope defined as a direct comparison between two or more seemingly unrelated subjects.

Reaction to being immersed underwater, unexpectedly, is amazing. The instinct to survive coupled with human emotions of fear, love, desire all act together to pull that hunk of flesh out of trouble.

The nightmare begins before touching the water. There is a vague sense of fear that something is not as it should be. "Is it possible?" the mind races as the answer is confirmed in an instant. There is a rush of air and you know things are out of control. Splash. First contact. The fall took forever and every second is distinctly etched in the mind. At first there is shock. Disbelief that something horrible just happened. The water is cold to the skin and the first strong sense is of the smell of all the water. Before you know it, for an eternity you head straight down and you realize how deep 12 ft can be. The arms and legs flail helplessly as the brain tries to make sense of it all. The water burns the eyes and the nostrils. All you can hear is the passive sigh of the water. You cant hear the world above you, cant see a foot on any side. Paranoi ensues as you realize you're on yor own. Some sanity returns and you organize your efforts. Fat help that did. You go nowhere. Your lungs are begining to announce their presence. The heart is still pounding from the fall and you chest feels like an over-stuffed stomach after a free meal. As the arms get tired, a new reality dawns. Maybe this was meant to be the end.

Maybe accepting this will make the rest of my last seconds more peaceful. You breathe in that cold water but choke and cough. More water in your nose. The cold wave hits you in the back of the head. Your lungs are exploding with fury, eyes red, nose is burning and the head is heavy as lead. But the mind gives it one last tug. "I wont die in the bottom of a filty pool! I can make it! I need to try, I cant give up". You look up and do your best to move your arms in a rowing motion. Your legs follow feebly. All those lessons bounce around in the back of your head. You curse yourself for not listening to your instructor well enough. You promise to make ammends when you survive. "IF you survive" says a cynic inside your head.

I dont know where this ends. Will there be fresh air to breathe at the end of this? Will the body sink to the bottom taking the soul with it?






From Wikipedia

Clinical depression is a state of sadness, melancholia or despair that has advanced to the point of being disruptive to an individual's social functioning and/or activities of daily living. Although a low mood or state of dejection that does not affect functioning is often referred to as depression, clinical depression is a medical diagnosis and is different from the everyday meaning of "being depressed".

An interview

Comfortable?
No, but I will be

You promised you'll behave
I'm doing the best I can

Never mind.. So. When was the first time?
First time? First time for what? There's a a first time for everything you know

There should also be a last time for all the cliches you use. Go on, you know what I'm talking about
But whats the big deal? I did it less than ten times

Thats ten more than most people will ever do in their lives.
They arent people. Sheep in a flock

You arent very unique with that Nike merch
Hmm... Nike's good. I like whites

Get to the point
Some friendly interview this is. You promised you would be nice

I'm trying hard sweetheart. Now tell me, what made you do it
Nothing in particular. I just wanted to feel it

So it wasnt depression? Feelings of rejection?
Hell no. I'm friendly and happy, people love me, many cant do without me

That death metal stuff you listen to all the time?
I dont listen to death metal. Talentless jerks. You should listen to The Doors. Will change your life

Like it did to yours?
Oh come on, thats saying too much

What made you do it? Sense of adventure? Wasnt bungee jumping enough?
Nah. I've never done anything that drastic. I did it for the taste

Excuse me?
The taste. It lasts a few seconds. But you'll love it

Back up. Tell me what exactly goes through your mind before this..this uh practice of yours
Its not a practice. Not even a habit. Anyway, the feeling before I do it is of intense anticipation. My heart thumps wildly, I had goosebumps the first time, my tongue sticks out, mouth goes dry. Then the last sight is the gleam. A flash

I thought you were afraid of razor blades.
I still am. I used safety blades. Ironic isn't it?

I fail to see the irony. Anyway, describe the act
So the gleam is the last straw. The blade then goes quickly across the skin. I used the upper forearm. Its easy to justify injuries to that area. Faster, deeper the better. When the metal makes contact, the skin turns pale white. If you hear carefully, there's a small tearing sound the skin makes. The two seams part, and for a second nothing happens. But the pain...ah the pain. Its right where you want it. All the way down the arm. A tingling sensation in my lower body. Then an explosion of senses. You realize you havent been breathing. You can taste blood. And I suspect the adrenaline in it. Did you know adrenaline is called Epinephrine?

No. Go on
So thats my favorite part. I do it just for that. That taste in my mouth. Then my head swims and I feel so alert. I can smell better, perhaps my own senses. I am so much more concious, more alive, if you will.

No cliches, please
Never again. Then the blood flows. That red blood. Its such a turn on. It actually makes noise when it drips. I let it drip on my thighs. It feels cold. You know you hit pay dirt when the blood is dark red. And then, just as quickly as it happened, it all shrinks to that one line on your arm. Its silent again. Just oozing blood.

You let it bleed?
Hell no. You know how you like cleaning up right after sex? I just need to dry that wound and patch it up ASAP.

Thats it?
Yeah thats it. I told you, no big deal

Still, what makes you do it? Scarred childhood?
Haha. Stop being the shrink. You know I had a great childhood. I was spoilt rotten. Its just the rush. Some jump off a cliff, I cut myself.

Do you believe in the devil?
Ah screw you. I'm an atheist. We're gonna die, and rot to dust and bones.

Jeez. You look so different in real life. So much more vibrant. Who can guess you're um, uh
Insane?

Are you? I wouldnt know, not a shrink
Good for me

Sure is weird living with you
With me? Or inside my head?

Aint they both the same?

And then

Its been over a month since I wrote last. Its been a tough little month. Lots of fun, some pain. Its all good.

I was convinced this blog was almost dead, for there was too much out there to live. There still is, but today I want to write. The "blog" will have no more comments for users to post; I truly dont care. This is my page. Back to my dead blog. Having a blog to me at first was no more meaningful than my first gmail account. Gee 1 Gig? Why would I need that much? I still dont, but the nerd in me took to gmail like a Republican to Catholicism. Anyway, the blog was much like a new 5 MP camera. You want to photograph every damn thing there is. That sunset, the ant on your neighbours patio, that blonde waiting for a bus, the woman's beautiful hand in yours. I notice I'm a city animal and there's no ambition to see tuskers on film. Elk in my shotgun's crosshair, maybe, but thats for later. Anyway, so you have this hot new camera, and its your friend's bday. You click away to glory. The candles go out, cake is cut, everyone is so happy. And you're right there, behind the camera. "Did you like the cake?" "Oh, I didnt eat, there were so many photos to take".

"Did you finally talk to that girl you see at the stop everyday?" "Nah, I was hiding so I could capture her on film". And so it goes. A day without your camera has you thinking "What would this moment look like on my 4.5 in LCD screen? On my 1200X900 plasma screen?". And it hits you. All those moments, all the smiles that you missed. You dont want to share photos on flikr anymore. You want to be in those moments yourself. You want to hold a warm hand, not a cold clammy cannon. Thats the story. I spent the last 1 month blissfully with the ones that care for me, not to get great "posts" that people could ROTFL for, but for ME to squint my eyes and laugh at.

Boy, do I have tales to tell. Tales of friendship, anguish, love, bliss and crashing troughs. Great times indeed, but what exactly am I upto here? I realized today that maybe writing is not that bad after all. Its like when you pull yourself out of a high after a joint. There's that field of view around you. You take a deep breath and say to yourself "Alright! Steady now". Floyd mumbles about his wasted dreams. And then the vision pans out. Or is that zooms out? You are outside the picture now. Everything is so clear. That 19 year old is hitting on that 24 yr old chick who likes him but cant figure out why he's hitting on her. Both know what a hopeless case it is. And yet the music plays and the masks are worn. Then there's that chap who needs to talk about his failed relationships to sympathetic ears. I should get him to blog. The girl kissing her boyfriend at his farewell party. Ah, the sentiments are non zero. What a relief. And then there's the 23 year old confused about that 25 year old. Will she, wont she? Why doesnt she say whats on her mind? 4 languages that they share, yet no words to address the grand mess. But yet, the track changes and that fantastic french woman guides you to sunlight. Tomorrow's a fresh day. I'll talk tomorrow they think. The dance goes on. Smiles, kisses and hugs.

Life is so perfect. Its keeps a blogger happy

STFU

Do not mess with an American kid's sense of humor/medical condition. If she says she suffers from Attention Deficit Disorder, she probably means it. Jokes about studying in a nude camp may not be welcome.

This message was brought to you in part by "Do not get your brown ass Sued Corp"

Dayum

Me : Buy me a pizza
She : NO!! You buy me a pizza!!
Me : Ok, how about now?
....................


Cant believe that routine still works

All in a week

Things I hear in a typical week

1) Are you hitting on me?
2) You're stingy
3) Stop staring
4) Stop laughing
5) Are you hitting on me?
6) PSB, you're a fucked up fuck
7) Open the door goddammit...sorry, please
8) Of course I'll marry you
9) Chug, chug, chug!!!
10) Dont you ever sleep?
11) You need a haircut
12) Damn you drink a lot
13) Are you hitting on me?
14) Is that your natural hair color?
15) Turn the volume down...please

See more. See all

There's more daylight than ever. More music. More reasons to smile. Still, someone else is on her deathbed. 80 years will be undone when the pump decides to take a long break. Till then, stay away from the light. I havent slept in 2 days. No, not even "power naps". 48 hours of non stop mind bulging work. My already sore wrists bend hopelessly. The elbow reminds me of what pain can be. I am the master of my body. I can do anything. Even sleep. Goodnight

Your loss

Some Artwork

Sunny Mornings

Spring Break is here!!! Well, its almost over. I caught up with what I love the most : sleep, fermented barley water. More about that some other time.

I woke last weekend refreshed :-

and in the "zone" for some continental breakfast (read : Cheap food for desis). Was tired of that awful cereal I gulped everyday and thought "Lets make some GOOD b'fast today". Technically, after waking up at 4 PM (and after taking as long as I do for the weekend cleansing ritual) one usually has something to the order of supper, but dont get all language-y on me. The plan, ambitious as always, was to indulge in Scrambled Eggs, Toast, a solitary bagel and some fresh orange juice. Problem was, I was cooking (yes scrambled eggs and toast count as cooking). Spoils of the evening

The High Flame mishap















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This is the Ketchup Suicide













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Reasons to miss ol' Blore?




























I'm hungry

Sunrise

Wisps of smoke make their way to the skies above
Our eyes meet for a fleeting glance
A smile, a pause, a wave of wand

Built walls that we could not scale
Words that shouldnt have been uttered
Promises never meant to be broken

Sights and sounds still afresh
All encompassing warmth
Memories to take to the grave

An instant? Two years? A lifetime?
Always remembered, never forgotten
Will the sun ever rise?

Must I say something?

Why is it that I think of this space when I've nothing else to do? Why is it that I think of this space when I have too many things to do, least of which must be blogging?

Its escapism. Escapism from the world around me. A weak attempt to build walls around me. To hide from a world I hate but cant live without. Twenty two years were long enough. How many more?

Why I wanna be blind

Scene : 3 AM in the Engineering lobby. Place is still swarming with studying Koreans and Desis

Situation : Protogoanist dressed in the following manner

Blue jeans, yellow shirt with pinstripes, green sweater, gray socks with purple spots.

The other desis in the lobby were wearing various permutations and combinations of the same. I'm not too fashionable and all that but honestly, why do some of us desis dress like inmates from a madhouse?

PJ time

Gori to desi in tweed : Hey there, are you here for the 70's revival festival?
Desi : No I'm from Patiala


PS : This post needed three edits for language that seemed akin to a retard typin with a banana

PPS : Why would a retard type with a banana? Because....He's a retard!! I'm on a roll

That time again

As much as I hate random posts, I hate them emotion soaked ones as well. But today I must indulge.

And if you’re taking a walk through the garden of life
What do you think you’d expect you would see?
Just like a mirror reflecting the moves of your life
And in the river reflections of me

We’re blood brothers, we’re blood brothers
We’re blood brothers, we’re blood brothers
-- Iron Maiden, Blood Brothers

At 16, he had enough and said goodbye to a family he knew for less than 4 years. The fauj beckoned and a gunner joined the ranks. Paki border, Sikh terrorists, tapping chinese lines. Been there done that.

Every visit to the MH for those nasty shots had one great moment always.

Meri santaan mujhse bhi aage

A sign on the wall that he showed me every single time. A line that I'll take to the grave. All those years. All that bullshit you put up with. All the civilian crap you deal with everyday. All that beer we drank together. All those moments we missed. All the life that lies ahead.

Thanks Dad. Cheers

PS : Even now he's back home cursing at "civilian behen****s" driving to work in that snarling traffic and polluted air my beautiful hometown affords. 10 months aint that long. See ya soon daddy-o