Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Crazy, Stupid, How?

Love is one-quarter deaf, half blind and a quarter mute. I arrived at this conclusion after realizing that i've never really been in love since my vote became acceptable. Nor have i felt deafness, blindness and muteness at a fixed proportion. Though the whole business of propositioning a girl with promises still intrigues me, i haven't asked anyone out yet. I've had moments that lasted a few days here and there but i never felt the urge to envision a life with someone. That's what folks in love do, right? Apparently, it requires courage and a level of selflessness that i stunningly lack. Not a single night has passed by when i couldn't sleep because i was thinking of someone. Nor a day has greeted me to shake me off my daydreaming spree. Maybe i'm too idealistic for my own good. Put in a sentence, my idea of love is simpler because it doesn't prescribe to any condition and is bereft of pretensions. It doesn't require someone to be something. It's either there or not. Almost all my friends turned cosmic-eyed when they confessed they had feelings for someone they never ended up with. That never happened to me. Too much exposure to cinema, poetry and existential thoughts can do so to anyone. In unrelated news, not very long ago, a friend of mine told me that i'll never be happy because i bask in my loneliness. The exact words were "How can you be so consumed by yourself?" before my mind-screen went blank. All i remember from that conversation is a concerned voice. It didn't belong to me. I was three-fourth blind and a quarter mute.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Statements of purposelessness

Sweetheart, welcome to my life. Or the lack of it.
Sweetheart, would you mind if i love you?
Sweetheart, your cold shoulder is the hottest thing about you.
Sweetheart, our in-laws are meant for each other.
Sweetheart, i'm asking you to read that poem because i wrote it in your voice.
Sweetheart, were you mistreated by your own convictions?
Sweetheart, would you agree that your heart was broken long before i entered the scene?
Sweetheart, has anyone told you that you'd be wonderful with your mouth shut?
Sweetheart, you can never defeat me as i don't even attempt.
Sweetheart, why do you need a lipstick when your lips don't? 
Sweetheart, let me cry you a river so that we can drown in it.
Sweetheart, where the fuck is your umbrella?
Sweetheart, stop blushing in disguise.
Sweetheart, i'd respect your opinion provided you tell me where exactly it is.
Sweetheart, your issues aren't as big as me.
Sweetheart, dieting is clearly not working for you. Starve.
Sweetheart, do you remember the last time you killed me?
Sweetheart, they care about heart diseases, not broken hearts.
Sweetheart, keep me in your pants. Your prayers and heart can wait.
Sweetheart, we've got a gorgeous past laid out in front of us.
Sweetheart, don't fall for me. That would defeat the purpose.
Sweetheart, maybe you should stop blowing my mind and try something else.
Sweetheart, let's get marred. 
Sweetheart, you put the dent in my confident. 
Sweetheart, how did you manage to get lost in your own desert?  
Sweetheart, i love eww too.
Sweetheart, doesn't it hurt being so fabulous? 
Sweetheart, kiss me. I'm that frog you've been waiting for. 
Sweetheart, please continue to remain ignorant of your own brilliance.
Sweetheart, is that your natural countenance or do you practice? 
Sweetheart, you haven't changed a bit since the last time i saw you in my dreams.
Sweetheart, you are the answer to all the horrible questions i troubled God with.
Sweetheart, if only you could change your habit of constantly changing your mind. 
Sweetheart, of course i like you. Why else do you think i'd put up with all your crap?
Sweetheart, you don't have to work very hard to earn my disrespect.
Sweetheart, let's not compromise on the element of fakeness.
Sweetheart, stop repeating "What?" and listen to WHAT i'm saying.
Sweetheart, we can work this out provided we both try not to forget that i'm bound to act like an idiot.
Sweetheart, i'm too illiterate to read your mind. 
Sweetheart, to be or knot to be, that is the question. 
Sweetheart, don't mean to be rude but you're absolutely beautiful.  
Sweetheart, the reason why i tell you the truth is i know you're not paying attention.
Sweetheart, your beauty is trying to keep up with you.
Sweetheart, how is your health and others' weather treating you?
Sweetheart, kindly parole yourself out of my mind.
Sweetheart, i'm willing to spare my 21 grams for you.
Sweetheart, you put the promise in promiscuous.
Sweetheart, how can you be imaginary and awesome at the same time?
Sweetheart, you're something else! Now, is that enough or should i carry on?

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Will the real messiah please stand up?

Mallika Sherawat thinks Narendra Modi is India's most eligible bachelor. But then, she also thinks she is the Marilyn Monroe of 21st century. You can't blame her for being so delusional. What else can justify her singing the Happy Birthday song in an accented tone for the charismatic candidate à la the Original Sex Symbol did for JFK? It's plain craziness. From what one can gather from this episode is NaMo Fever touching a new high. And the Haryanvi actress is just cashing on publicity by riding the wave. She's not the only one though. All you've got to do is look around with your eyes open. Social media is abuzz with fanatics who don't like BJP but would sacrifice their fingertips for their leader. The general public seems to be rooting for his designation come 2014. Congress, on the other hand, appears abysmal thanks to their Somalian track record. It's nothing less than a miracle that they are still governing our country. The worst part, however, is their lack of a face. Rahul Gandhi, someone? Naaaah. Even though he doesn't have a single smear of corruption on his dynastic brow—just like his dear Gujju foe—the "young" gun has been far from impressive. Personally, i don't like either of them. One is a communal hardliner who hasn't tested himself at the national level and the other is a sickular softie who might never be tested at whatever level. But for the sake of argument, it'd be interesting to see NaMo at 7, Racecourse Road. Ek chance toh banta hai, for all the momentum his name has gathered in the past few scam-filled years. It behooves us to check whether he's really that messiah who'll deliver our beleaguered nation from further damage. If he succeeds, well and good. If he doesn't, bad for his supporters. Anyway, between the devil and the sea, it's better to choose swimming.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Leh'ed back and forth

Ladakh is breathtakingly beautiful. I mean every single word of it. The place takes your breath away. Quite literally. You experience mild asthmatic attacks even after doing something as banal as walking. Of course, the lack of oxygen at such a high altitude must be the culprit. But that's not it. Your body often fails to fall in line with the laws of mountains which can result in headache, nausea, nose-bleeding, anxiety, vomiting, fever and weakness. There might be other effects as well but i experienced each of the above during the first two days of the 'acclimatization' process. What this term refers to is the period and precaution your system take to adapt to the weather up there. The usual tip handed to a tourist is "Lie on your bed as much as possible" and "Sip water/fluids as much as possible". Guess what? Both tasks are impossibly boring in nature. Especially when you can see apples and apricots hanging onto the tree right outside your hotel window. Apparently, the trick is to curb excitement and channel one's energy very wisely. I couldn't. And by the time i was 'acclimatized' enough to call myself a Ladakhi, i was already flying to Mumbai via Delhi.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

An act of expecting memories

September 11 isn't just another day. Some historic stuff have taken place on this particular date. Swami Vivekananda delivered his remarkable speech in Chicago (1893), thus introducing the hitherto ignorant West to Hindu philosophy. In 1906, Gandhi wholeheartedly adopted Satyagraha in South Africa making sure non-violence becomes more than just an afterthought. Leaving his experiment incomplete and his baby directionless, Jinnah succumbed to TB today in 1948 as well. Lastly, we all know what happened in New York at the turn of the century and how 9/11 became a proper noun while terrorism, abstract. And tonight, i'm leaving for Ladakh. Got to admit it feels nice to include myself in an illustrious league of extraordinary gentlemen. Long live exaggerations! For the biographer's record, i've been in awe of that place (along with Tibet and Tawang) long before Aamir Khan made it a household name. It's supposed to be scenic—something i'll confirm when i reach there tomorrow—hopefully, that is. Though i'm visiting for work, being there won't be anything less than a wish come true. The only trouble is whether i'll be able to bring myself back home. 

Monday, September 9, 2013

Aim but don't shoot!

Ladies, pepper spray is overrated. According to recent studies, it won't work four out of 10 times and even if it does, your safety will depend purely on your ability to sprint. You can't afford to stay in the area where you've unleashed a pepper-heavy whiff. If you don't run, you'll end up falling into your own trap by sneezing in tandem with your assailant/s. So what you need to carry in your purse/clutch/whateverthatisyoucarrywithyou along with a pepper spray is a gun. A real one but unloaded. Nothing scares the shit out of a man like a pistol. It doesn't even have to be filled with bullets. All you need to do is posture. Imagine you're eve-teased or wolf-whistled or violated in any form by the public. Now imagine the reaction on the faces of those who attempted these aforementioned idiocies provided you're aiming a gun at them. You'll attract attention, yes, but you'll also help divert some to ground realities. Women are deemed effete because they've chosen the same. Our nation ain't anti-guns so i'm not really propagating anything unconstitutional. You can legally register and thus get a firm grip on reality. Moreover, when a messenger is bringing a bad news, it's OK to scare him.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

A touching story

I recently bought an Android embedded phone. It's a delight actually to see how amazing a piece of technology could behave. Even Graham Bell would have been surprised! At least i am. I knew that something incredible is going on on the cellphone front but my curiosity never got the best of me. I somehow managed to stay indifferent. To the point that i was the only with an outdated Nokia handset while my friends and colleagues shifted to QWERTY. In my defense, i was happier with the longer battery life of my poverty-stricken phone. Slowly but steadily, i could see the world falling for touchscreen and before i realized it, Android was in vogue. Everybody's fingers were seen tap dancing smoothly on the screen allowing fingertips to don the proverbial power. Awesome indeed. 
Well, i had progressed to QWERTY by then. No shit. I was content nonetheless. It wasn't like i didn't have the money. Just that i never felt the need to buy something fancy. 
This was before i finally bought something fancy. 
I took Tushar to shop and we ended up buying a phone none—let me repeat, NONE—have heard of. I sprang upon it because it perfectly matched my low budget. I brought it home but couldn't bring myself to give up on my old phone. As a result, i kept using it for 1.5 months more than intended before finally switching to the one with the influential touch. I'm still getting a hang of it. It's cool though to learn so much about apps. Speaking of which, WhatsApp has become a toy. It takes me back to the cyber café days of chatting with strangers. However, i'm not chatting as such. It's more of Hi-Byes and nobody on my gadget is a perfect stranger. Nice to be distracted by real people for a change.
Besides, there's no advantage, whatsoever, in being a Luddite. You just do one thing: suffer. The adage of ignorance being a bliss doesn't help either. That burden of holding a scepter which says TECHNOLOGICALLY CHALLENGED has no pride attached to it. I can say all this and much more because i am one of them. It's no surprise that electronics gave up on me before i could. Also, humankind needs smarterphones with higher touchscreen accuracy and lower charge wastage.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

For old times' sake

It was evident from the wrinkled face of that old man standing in the super-packed local that Harbour Line is the worst. It's worse for senior citizens. And the younger lot seldom stand up for what is right. They somehow remain seated. I don't know if that poor fella was expecting anybody to give up one of their seats but what i know for sure is—as expected—none did. 
Is shehar ne jaanwar bana diya hai hamein; aur humne ise chidiyaghar. 
I sincerely hope the grand/fathers of all those who overlooked him last night find someone kinder in their commutes. It's as if they couldn't keep their ass from touching a surface for even few minutes. Apparently, running is the only non-gymnastic function in which gluteal muscles get to work. Otherwise, all these internal organs are good at is expanding. 
For the dismal record, Mumbaikars run only after public transport. Makes sense when they over-credit themselves for finding a place to sit.
At times i wonder why isn't there a separate compartment for oldies, especially when there is one for the womenfolk and the disabled. Lastly, why not an Oldies Special in the line of Ladies Special?

Friday, September 6, 2013


Whoever you are, thanks for visiting this page. 
Turns out i've got nothing insignificant to share this time around. Been too occupied with saving the world and all that razzmatazz. Which is just another lousy excuse for not having anything to write on. Sometimes the wannabe writer in me behaves a bit like Pakistan. He's unsure whether he has failed already or is still failing. It's very similar to humanity taking a fall. You never know whether it's for real.
Better luck next time.
PS: Yeah, i love you too for being so dramatic.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Byproducts of progress

Crows, rats, owls, dogs and cats—wittingly or unwittingly—help in keeping our city clean. While facing starvation, they put their dignity aside and find the grub in garbage. Nothing astonishingly new in that. What's worth noting here is the rising number of filth and the decreasing number of bins. For what can't be explained, our urban planners (if there are any) don't count the need to put trash cans in adequate numbers at appropriate distance. Even a cleanliness-obsessed citizen would lose morale to such apathy. And believe me, he does. 
  Which brings us to the question: is littering an urban phenomena?
I've been to villages. Quite a lot of them, actually. And one thing is common to all of them. They are clean. You don't see vile polythene carriers strewn helter-skelter. On the other hand, there's hardly any wastage. Consumerism is low and practical minimalism, high. Yes, it can't be denied that lack of development is to be squarely blamed for the relative orderliness. But then, even small villages are slowly getting a hang of urbanity and the first sign of this change are the plastic bags half-buried on the side of the kaccha roads. 
  Which brings us to the illation: the culprit is not modernity but incompetence. 
We know how essential plastic has become in our day-to-day life. What we may not know is the potential danger it poses to our future generations (if there will be any). A replacement is going to be costly and by the time something comes up, the ugly polythene pile one witnesses while travelling in a local train will have turned uglier. At the same rate, the plastic bags will be fully buried on the rural roadsides.
  Which brings us to the remedy: it's high time crows, rats, owls, dogs and cats ate plastic!