realization of sorts

As usual, I was upto nothing great and browsing through my fb stream when I saw a pic of a girl with a guy and another guy liking it. It so happened that the later guy had a thing for this girl but it never really grew into anything serious. With my hand raised in solemn stance, I can say that I remember the girl spurned his advances and his every attempt to grow chummy.

Now, I saw this pic and saw loads of people had liked it. I clicked on the likes and scrolled through the list and saw this guy. The first thing that came instinctively to my head was चुतीया साला, कुछ और तो कर भी नहीं सकता...A moment later I realized I did the same (liked a pic) a few days back and how conveniently I was calling this guy a चुतीया. I realized, with great deal of frustration, despair and stupidity that the joke was on me. One thing that rung clear, like a knock on the door with a stick of wood, is that things seem much more clear when looking at someone else.

A few ______ (months/weeks/days/hours/minutes) ago, I had trouble trying to forget this girl and it was becoming a little bit of a big deal. I wasn't ready to accept the thought that maybe she's not interested in me. If I had seen someone else doing it, I would have talked to him and told him to use his head for once and not let his emotions become the acting pilot. However, while it was happening to me, I kept myself in a state of denial, told myself that my situation was quite different and that every scenario was different and mine begged for emotions to run amok.

I'm a big fan of forums and reddit was just a blessing for the geek in me who wanted to read about everything in the world while sitting in front of his desk.

Ok, geek might have been a bad word, but it sort of gives you the drift right... so let's move on.

I was reading through a pile of comments (mostly garbage) when I came across this guy's comment which said that it's useless trying to run behind a girl, trying to woo her, when you know she has rejected you in her heart. I upvoted that comment , told myself that truer words had never been spoken and then a few days later, I was desperately chasing a girl, hoping that she might change her stance, fall in my arms and let me do things to her. But it was not to happen. What was written in stone and was executed with the same rigidity was I torturing myself and wondering what was going wrong. My failure was not able to think clear headed...?

The only saving grace (would I call it that?) is that there's a first time for everything and maybe this was the first time for me... While I wouldn't go as far as conferring on myself the ultimate medal of hopeless romantic and roam some river side like Adele, I'll leave you guys with the video. ciao.

A slap in the face of a common Indian

UPDATE - this was written long ago. Didn't want to discard it so throwing it in now.


So what is happening in the news? 2G scam. People cutting across professions involved in the scam. From Lobbyists, Industrialists, Journalists, all the way up to the highest office. When has Congress not found itself knee deep in scams? I think that point has been thoroughly canvassed on many occasions. What we need to really worry about is the Journalists and the role they are playing in ...

        I have never been a fan of NDTV. Ok, maybe that is not right. I used to follow them avidly when they used to do that news at 9 pm on Star. But then they went ahead and formed their own news channel. Cynicism Galore. No solutions. Pranoy Roy, Vikram Chandra and Barkha Dutt were the worst. At one time they were known for charismatic shows like the Big Show, Good, Bad and the Ugly and We the People. Now, they represent a force which is hell bent on forcing their opinion down the throats of each and every person who tunes into NDTV. I guess people smell their bullshit. Reflects in the TRP ratings.

Vir Sanghvi is a perfect example of such a journalist. Outlook in its article points to a piece (in Hindustan Times) written by Vir Sanghvi in 2009 which was nothing but a farce. Oddly enough, title of the piece was titled "Time for Transparency" when things are translucent or bordering on opaque. And this time its not the politicians who are doing the dirty work. Politicians hogging on money and accumulating wealth is nothing new but media and journalists lobbying for politicians and misleading public with their stories is thoroughly alarming. Guess we all have to wake up.

Near the badminton court, having stood up, I was frustrated in the least but was really angry too. Angry that people don't care. They don't consider me their part of their circle of existence. It slowly grew into more frustration and then into dejection. Why couldn't my friends do that little bit for me? Friends do everything but don't ditch or fuck their friends. That small part in me that believed in the best in people just suffered a setback. It was a mirror that had just been broken with pieces lying all over the ground.


How difficult is it to convince oneself that things are alright. How difficult is to mend a broken mirror. To get back that mirror without any crack in it?

I got out of my room and made my way to Indiranagar. I knew where I was headed. It was a celebration of what I had become. A macabre fest to celebrate the failure that I was. I went straight to the barber shop and asked him to shave my head. Mind over body. One final act of vengeance against my own body. For letting me become this person that I was. The battle was over even before the body could react, let alone draw the battlelines.

Take that bitch. You deserved it. You got what you deserved. We'll come back to this everytime I feel I've been let down by you.

*  *  *  *

Sipping tea while sitting under the friendly shade of a tree is one of those rare things which we yearn for and look forward to. At such moments when the last sip of tea tastes infinitely sweeter than all the tea put together, we begin to look at the world around us. A world which begs to be seen from an alternative perspective and which inspite of its unlimited number of flaws. At such moments when someone is angry, situations arise which in retrospect seem like contraptions designed by some higher power to ease you. Soothe you and force you to sit back and wonder why was I even bothered.

*  *  *  *

Fresh from the my newest conquest, I wanted to go to my room and settle with my miserable self. In loathing and disgust but only after another campaign. One to satiate my other visceral needs - nutrition, food and the desire to fill my stomach. A plate of idli did a lot to help in the cause. It allowed me a little more energy to curse. To boo. And to spit. I knew I needed something to make me more agile. Things were beginning to dull a bit and I took a cup and tea and stood by the road watching the world. Its denizens rushing to some imaginary destination not knowing the that they were already at their destination. Their destination was this world - where they were destined to always rush. Convince themselves that life is but a journey which can never end and when it actually does, it is only a small wait. A stopover at some airport before we embark on another journey...

Amidst all this pandemonium, I saw a guy, tall and lean. He was waiting to cross the road. With him stood a lady, old and frail. By the looks of it, she seemed like his grandmother. He held her hand and led her through the traffic. Through the ceaseless chaos of the world. Bending down to listen to his grandmother say something and add something of his own. Their love seemed timeless and ethereal, something that would stand out in any street, any bazaar and any city. His respect for his grandmother and she content with her love for her grandson. Hand in hand, they walked. He walking much slower to match the stride of his grandmother. I guess it made my evening and put my heart at ease. I ran into love and caring and it made me feel that I had run into some familiar territory. A territory which would have appeared unfamiliar and implausible minutes back. In my head, the guy was replaced by my body and I was walking with my grandmother. Crossing the same road and holding her hand. Bending down the same way to hear her voice and feel good again and again.

Body over mind.

"mail" crisis

It all begins with admitting that there is a problem. It was the same for me too. I admitted that I had a problem. And if I didn't do something about it soon, I would be in a terrible mess and things would go awfully wrong. Crisis brings out the worst in scenarios but also makes us man enough to face it and get ourselves out of it.

My gmail a/c is 26% filled and it's starting to worry me. 26% and I have to do something about it. Ok, I have to say I have this whole hoarding thing in my veins which makes me an inveterate miser, always saving everything for the future. The situation demanded an action and I was totally down for it. Who isn't. If you have a month of semester break and if you aren't anything worthy to shouting over the rooftops, there is something you've got to do to keep yourself busy. So, I pushed my proverbial sleeves, rubbed my palms and got ready to delete some (read lot) mails to reclaim some space.

Horror of horrors! I dig a little deeper and find out there are very few mails addressed to me. Most mails are sent to a mailing list and end in my inbox. So my next few days will be devoted to cleaning my inbox.

THIS IS WIERD - halfway into writing this blog, I totally lost interest in the post and ended it abruptly. It is strange and my lack of patience definitely doesn't help in thinking this situation out...