IBS - Sab Ullu Ke Pattho Ke Liye!

Recruiters...Don't Judge Me Through this Article.. It's an Outburst of the Soul... PROFESSIONALISM THY Name's SALEEM :)

From the horniest of rascals to the coolest of dudes, from the sweetest of souls to the superlatives in self-centered individuals and from determined last gasp-mile long-brain fucked-studying marathons to 3 hours of farras, IBS had it all. One of the oddities when one piles-up a 600 strong bunch of maniacs together in one building is the experience of knowing (and I mean actually understanding!!) all those individuals in a span of a mere 18months! A lifetime’s learning in the span of a couple of hundred days.

Where everyday spent just had to bring in something new, like non-stop toppings on your favourite ice-cream cone, one after the other, ever day for 18months! Wouldn’t bet on slurping and smacking my lips on this thought though….all scoops weren’t all that sweet!

It would be safe to claim that I had come across and known the most number of people in the college, but this isn't the time or the way to weigh everyone on my scale (It wouldn’t matter anyways) and therefore got my nose rubbed to the ground more times than I would’ve liked or anticipated. Still no credit could be taken out of the hellova experience I had in the most unexpected of times.

Funny how I came to this place, attended the first day in complete formal attire and even specs to complement the look, and was never seen wearing the same ever again(even for presentations!!). Trust me when I say this, ”This could have been possible only in IBS”. I, like many others, got away with almost everything…some lectures, few lectures, no lectures..What College????

Right from writing a complete essay on BUM AGGARWAL right under his nose on the front bench, to setting the clock 15mins ahead, to smuggling samosas and pakoras in the running lecture, to being called a Criminal and a Terrorist by the teacher in-front of the whole class (and that while being the CR!), to bunking the college for one month straight to giving presentations in chappals, to FLIRTING ( special mention to Digvijay Gaur, Aditya Vikram Pandey, Raman Behl, Angad, Akshay Bhasin, Vinayak, Aniket, Aditya Vir Sharma, ADITYA Ghai, AKshay khanna..to name a few), to waking up in the morning and still not going to the college, to endless DAARU parties, to post-midnight hunger pangs, to drunken driving, to abusing absolutely anyone and everyone..WE DID IT ALL!

For many of us it was the perfect setting and for me, a learning curve. But I wouldn’t call it an entirely learning process because I still have trouble placing heads under the Assets and Liabilities side of a balance sheet. If 1st Sem accounts was crazy, then economics made me scared-shitless! Who in the right frame of mind wants to study economics? Leave alone like it. And the RUDE joke was people repeatedly reminding me How interesting and easy the subject was! Blah Blah Blah…A puny miserable rat’s ass, that’s what ECO was to me. No wonder I took 4 long hours garnishing my exteriors a day before the Final Eco exam.

Unlike everyone from the college, I loved those terrifying exam days, when the studious lied about studying nothing and the moronic rascals like us who didn’t know the syllabus, the books, the chapters and even the Teacher of the subject and still kidded about being prepared with all the subjects just to watch the other half shit in their pants and re-re-re-revise their course. We were the Direct Descendants of the DEVIL himself.

Everything we did, plan, study(or not), exchange notes, farras, Everything came down to just one plain fact, PLACEMENTS.

An 18 month Armageddon between Finance and Marketing culminating into Marketing-people joining banks and Finance-nerds being forced to sell bonds and insurances, that’s IBS for you and I wouldn’t like rubbing salt on the wounds of the 60 from the HR department, given that I’m still jobless! J

I’d need a supercomputer to calculate the number of times each and every member of this batch cursed the college and still had a lump in the throat and a teardrop waiting to fall off when we left this crazy place called IBS.. Here’s to you.. MWAAAH!!!

SPECIAL MENTION for all my Friends in IBS- ANUJ Arora, Vaibhav, Digvijay Gaur, Akshay Bhasin, Nitisha, Vidhi, Prerna, Shruti, Manvi, Gagan, Soni, G, Nilu, Shivi, Rhea, Priya, Adtya, Sheenam, Chandni, Bhavna, Swati, Pooja, Khushboo Luthra, KK, Amit, Aman, Rajesh, Karan Vir Chandok, Harshad, Jyoti Kochi, Aditya GHai, Manu Ghai, Akshay Khanna, Megha, Angad, Doctor, Uttama, Garima, Tanvi, Aditya Vir, Aniket, Vinayak, LAKSHMI, RIcha, Arleen, Deepankar, Deepika, Deepti, GO n ADi, Gulnar, Raunak, Kushal, Monisha, ROhan, Saumya, Silky, Spardha, Smriti!

Love U all!

The Speaking Tree

The Lost Symbol,Dan Brown, 38 pages young, its paper-back cover arched backwards, lies face down on my pillow, like an angry child, unwilling to show its face.

The light from the afternoon-lamp, filters through the prism window, enveloping everything in its reach. The book, the pillow, and a part of my foot.

Feels good!

In this confused February, stuck between blowing cold and piping hot, it surely is the best part of the day!

The odd sounds of screeching tyres talking to the road, running feet that most definitely belong to weekend-happy children and a constant buzz of wood getting leveled by a machine saw, keepmy ears alive and I chuckle, thinking that if I had been a Saint Bernard, my ears would’ve lazily hung up in the air for a moment and lost interest instantly.

During all the piped-down-semi-commotion, three things manage to fill my gaze. The prism window, the electricity wires (I’m on the 1^st floor of a rented flat), and the huge trees outside. I intentionally narrow my eyes to the top shelf, moving my head back and forth, in-tune with the sway of the tress, like candles being waved on a concert night. Happy times for these serene giants, bathing in the warm sun and chirping carelessly like teenage girls on a Saturday morning beach.

What must they may be talking about? I wonder, as I crane to watch more of the show. Reminding me of the painted-green lady, up on the stage on a karaoke show. The nonchalant singer intoxicated by the flawless combination of the rousing music and the elfish air. As if the trees were on opium, hands on shoulders, dancers on a hillybilly night, elephants swinging their trunks on an afternoon shower.

The collective breathing and sighing of the leafy mammoths was like tourists on top of the Eiffel Tower, awed by the sheer beauty and the pristine décor of the city.

Another chuckle inside my head took me to a vision of the typical Mumbai ‘chawls’ where middle aged mothers hang out of their balcony and bend their necks at impossible angles to get a sneak-peak at the neighbors below. The thought took me immediately back to the trees outside, watching me.

I momentarily felt them looking at me, right through my window, into the room. Might they too think the same when they smile and frown at me, hear me whispering and kissing, thinking of metaphors about this ‘urban ape’. Spying on me?

What if it kept a secret account of me? Hidden there somewhere in that long and inaccessible trunk, passing on signals to the heavens above, like mini transmitters for the Gods. No wonder they sway in all directions, taking into account everything happening around them, taking notes about whose being good, bad and downright dirty!!! This is like giving an all new direction and meaning to the fact of ‘Being Good to Trees and they in-turn Being Good to Us’. Must I smile back when I look at them?

I smile sheepishly...not at them...but at having this thought in my mind.

Joblessness can make a person paranoid too.

Now that’s a discovery!

Photo © - Wingu

Just a Goodbye :)

A string of doves

wave goodbyes into the silver horizon

becoming a noiseless fade

in the distant memory they fly

A music, preying on the senses

as it nears the last of a soulful melody

Vagrant spirit trickles down the throat

and burns away the weight of life

A smooth smoke dances with the air

as the stoned ship skips away from the shores

The desert's chessboard in the sand

and restless dunes lifting away to a destined place

The cold breath loses its sheen

with her name on the fogged glass

Lovers kiss a silent farewell

hearing sounds of the other's footsteps

till they round the corner

A momentary caress with the eyes

dissolves into the curve of the lips

Ecstasy

Its d glow.. Its Slow..

Smooth fire dat meets d lips..

Engulfs d mind.. Besieges d soul..

It burns ever so lightly.. Rises up..

Making figurines out of smoke..

Diamonds in swirls.. bends in the twirls..

The slightest of dabs.. into ash it turns!!

Late Night Smokers.. Ecstasy My Friends!

Jumping Jack Vacuum Head

Begin Reading this Piece Only after knowing that This was Written out of sickening boredom and ONLY if you're genuinely interested in tasting my words all over again Should You attempt this Inglorious Venture!!!

I really do want to pen down something this time that I sit down. Has been a while since my jarred and jammed mind, ever observant, ever critical and ever mesmerized, melted everything into words for me to re-read it so many times that it literally gets published onto my brain. My eyes have become a continuous assessor of everything around me(( well so is everyone else's )), but let me explain you how.

Well, being endowed with a gifted imagination is one thing, but it's crazy when it runs totally haywire and at times I wish my mind had two hands which could grab hold of these bubbles of thought running amuck (( chuckles in head )). Every-time I read a book or attend a lecture, look at mannequins with unkempt hair and twisted hands, or just stare into empty space (which I think has become a national past-time for men today), I visualize everything staring at me with those piercing eyes, like a psychiatrist at his patient, looking for signs of life and wonder. And I stare back, getting lost for moments together as I try to figure out what they maybe saying.

Even though I've been scribbling for quite sometime now, I still keep wondering as to how would the REAL writers, authors and poet might think!? HOW would THEY visualize reality and give them animated and incredible words that would awe and inspire their readers to travel from one word to the next. A concocted reality, a story that millions would relive in their wide-eyed dreams, just like I do. A restless being who often boards this ship to the flights of fancy, discovers new worlds in the smiles and tears of an unknown face and imagines how it would be to be that being. I am someone you would happily fall in love with and still wonder why I suddenly dropped out your life, only to be happily rediscovered again. As again now that You realize that I'm ranting about stuff that is completely unrelated to my earlier babble. Sometimes I find myself looking up at the ceiling or the sky and thoughts that rush to my head might be totally tangential to what I might be doing at the moment. A certified victim of day-dreaming, who enjoys every bit of the insanity that he spirals into. I once read somewhere, There is a pleasure in being Mad, something that only Madmen know of. I'm sure all of you know why I said this Now! :)

Cheers to Boredom

The Solitary Zephyr ... --- Penned Down by a dear dear friend.. WINGU

Seeking what it knew not it seeked;

A Solitary Zephyr found itself in Another.

Together, they Blew the Mists Away;

Watched and Wondered, the Shimmering Midnight Sky.

They spun a Web of Silken Spangled Dreams,

Sealing the Pact, whispered Promises of Forever.

Alas,Time & Change the only Constants, held there Sway,

One drifted Beyond; the Other Looked Away...

Me..

The Bitter Pill

Not really cut-out for living alone.. Am I?

One of those discoveries I’ve made lately that I’m not really happy or proud of. Wouldn’t want ne1 to switch places coz its kind f terribly terrible. Like a bowl full of marbles, my group of friends, can’t really hold on to any of them if they split. I imagine myself running in different directions, trying to rush and grab hold of them and make sense of it all in the crazy haste. Had always imagined myself being surrounded by people I love, which now is a rather crazy thought.

Make yourself as interesting as possible they said, coz you’ll be spending the most time of your life with yourself. God’s making me learn this the hard way! Kind of apologetic and pathetic in different ways. A mad rush it seems sometimes, trying to get past the loneliness and the self-pity. Ideas keep popping into my head from time to time, making me think of novel ways to run away from everything that ever mattered at any point of time. How dearly would I love to be selfish..again.

A flip in the definition of being good, that’s what I want to be. Surrounded by a sea of “Friends” (( My apology to all who come in-between these quotes )), I still find myself searching. Someone very dear told me once, “Saleem, in this life, in this world, nothing matters, but YOU, your own self. People may come and go, leaving impressions along the way, but at the end of it all, it’s you who’ll be accountable for everything that happened.” At this point in time, I wouldn’t call it a happy realization, rather an honest one. Like the lessons learned from the beating you got in childhood for being stupid and wrong, and realizing it now when you see someone do it, exactly like you did. How foolish were we, How foolish was I?

A serious question.. Is what I’m feeling right now..is this for real? Or just one of those passing contemplative thoughts that strike me when I’m restless and alone and stupid. Maybe.. maybe not. But it does have a concern. Of the direction I’m headed into. Its like finding yourself standing at the crossroads with no signs. You’re all to yourself and the decision may change the way you see life, the way you perceive things to be. Where everything dear ceases to matter, to exist. Like a bubble of trust that was waiting for that fateful pin to strike its fragile existence.

Friends have been my world, ever since I had them. The single-most important thing in my life, who rather admittedly, have taught me more than I could’ve ever accomplished to do myself. A rich journal of madness I’ve enjoyed over these years. Aped some, made-up some of them myself but in the end, always found myself falling short of everything I planned.

Plan…. Have never been the one to follow one and still I keep harping about it. Hardly practiced what I preached. How to Make Friends and Influence people, thought I was the walking text of the best-seller. Seems like a fluke now. My social circle was put to test in the last few months and I’m amazed how ridiculously it faired on the satisfaction scale. Divya once warned me, “Never Drink Alone and that too in sadness, it only makes it worse.” So I took to smoking. No blames on Divya, but my loneliness did it. People keep trying to mend my ways, but their consideration has begun to irritate me.

You know.. one of those moments when you try finding a reason where it doesn’t exist. That’s what I’v become. It’s time like these when I think.. Would it matter at all If I ceased to exist? How momentary the sadness, the feelings, the concern would be once Saleem-in-flesh-and-blood would no longer be?

I’m still to hit the high notes of life. But deep down, in the heart of hearts, I know it would be a déjà vu, of now, of what has happened and what will always be. It’s like stepping into the most beautiful of oceans, knowing you would ultimately drown.

Let me soak up the sun, enjoy till it lasts….it has already begun to fade.

VICE CITY CHRONICLES- PART ONE

Statutory Warning….- Many Lambs and Chickens were Consumed in this Chronicle! Vegetarians..Beware!

It’s like one of those Grand Theft Auto journeys that I lived over a passage of 4days. For the hardcore lovers of the game, there wasn’t any kniving, shooting, robbery or espionage involved. But still..loads and loads of unbridled((hehehe)), ‘throw your watch and schedule away’ kind f fun. Describing the moments in their amplitude would take daysss outta my schedule((yeah right!!)). But lemme give u a glimpse of the journey that had been waiting for ages to Unfold.

Vada pao, Juices, sea food..well of all kinds except the Lobster((I grew sick at the sight of it)), endless pints and cans f beers and breezers gargled down J and cartons f smoke were puffed away.

32 degree Celsius.. That’s what the Pilot announced when he was about to bring the plane to a screeching halt. Anuj, sittin besides me predicted a rainy weather all through the trip and 'Thank You God' for not listenin to his gibberish for once! Unlike most of my ‘deboards’ at tourist destinations, this one seemed a little less cheerful at our welcome. The air could almost stick to my face and the airport too wasn’t a pretty sight. At the back of our minds was the thought- Man! are we gonna get fucked if our room didn’t have any air-conditioning… Given the fact that we had rented a flat @Rs15..dats right Rs15 a day.. we were bound to feel circumspect at this ordeal that awaited us.

But guess what!! It was group-hug time as soon as we entered the SBOP holiday home flat. The sight of the air-conditioner was like a blessing.. and God tellin us.. Go on Boys.. Have some fun..I’l be waiting here for you whenever you come back, AC turned ON, with beer in the fridge..and Manchester United kickin some serious ass on EPSN.

So there.. the vacation was set into motion. Changed up into our holi-gear((yup..dats wat m callin it)) and strutted to the market outside to get something to eat.. Remember.. No Vegetable was plucked, cooked or hurt in any way on this trip! But mom’s constant calls reminded us of Navratras, so we had to sacrifice our urges to bite onto cooked flesh((Makes me sound like a cannibal.. but wat de hell!) and just for that day, go in for some veg-crap that half of the Veg-World feeds on.

**Now lemme just go on record to say that ever since this trip..I have discovered that I can sleep almost anywhere and at any given time. Kind f a You-Blink-You-Miss moment. Keeping Anuj and Vaibhav's irritation for the same aside, I had a gala time :) . Especially having that pre-sunset nap at Arjuna beach.. sittin in the shack, with a beer in one hand.. the open sea in my gape and droopy eyes.. Gotto tell u..it was my the memorable nap ever!

Alrite.. time for some NSP( nain-sukh-prapti). I mean FCUK! Where else in India do you find such hot chics from all over the globe..giving a damn about what they wore and what the bystanders saw. It was a treat for the eyes and the senses((I won’t go ne further than this..just to maintain the sanctity of this blog..hehe)) and Where else in India could you put on a vest and Nicks and drive around on an Avenger.. It sure did Feel like God!

As you must have realized by now..my trip to Goa was filled more with Exclamation Marks than full stops.. and that’s exactly how it was. The Sun, the sand, the water and the food.. and did I forget to mention the Women? :P

Even though I ended up getting the TAN of my life with temperatures pushin the mercury over and beyond to test my patience under the sun, but still I huffed and puffed on the burning sand and dived into the open sea. Wave after wave of salt and water pushed and bullied us around as we fought a never ending battle with bare hands, legs.. well Bare everythin except.. :P

VICE CITY CHRONICLES- PART 2

7 different alcohols, 6 different desserts, 5 different types of Meat and chics from 4 different countries sat with us..all in one Feast at the Baga Beach.. and ya One carton of Marlboro Lights too!

Friends had been screamin their chords dry, askin us to go to the Aguada fort(da DIl Chahta hai One)). And I cursed each and everyone of them all through the way up, until I saw what we had come to see. The ride through the unrelenting sun became totally worth it as the endless ocean was thrown into my eyes.. sheer viewing pleasure! and the wind seemed to come from a different planet altogether. I could harldy hold onto this urge to jump off the wall and into the sea(( I DID NOT.. a proof is Me Living to Pen this Down!)).

The best part of the trip was this. 8:30pm-10:30pm. Sports bar.. right next to DOntoPalliPucchiKUKU beach.. hehe! Beer, food, smoke and Live Football. God Bless Machade and Manchester United for making this an absolute cracker-jack trip.. the last minute winner took my breath away!

Now lemme describe both of my pals and my partners in fun there in goa.

Anuj, the connoisseur of everything that can be munched upon, the one who is invariably hungry all the time and has the knack of pointing towards the most unknown-yet-the-tastiest dish on the menu. Honestly, if it wasn’t for him, me and vaibhav wudnt have tried eatin all that we did end up eatin! He was also the Bargainer of our mini-group, apt at bringin prices down to a level at which I would shy away from making any kind of eye-contact with the shop-keeper..and then get surprised that we managed to get it at that price! Poor guy Anuj..always wanted to plan out our day…and nothing happened according to him..In-fact he seemed to have tickled ‘Rahu and Ketu’ at the wrong places on this trip coz he was totally outta luck! Met with an accident..made ladies fall(Literally)) wherever he went by, got hit on the injured leg ‘N’ number of times and could bathe in the sea just once before he met wid dat fateful accident. But all in all a great trip for him((tongue-in-cheek)..love u bro!

Now for the Main MAN on our trip, Vaibhav Wadhawan! I say MAIN MAN because the kind of fun we had OFF-the-beach couldn’t have been possible without him. He was the man who was completely messed up between wearing Sunglasses or Specs! But gotto give it to him for makin the right juggle! Only Me and Anuj know as to how we convinced him to go bare-chested in the sea and guaranteed him that he wudn’t get ogled at for sure.. hehe. This guy was in-charge of the baggage, the camera and my helmet..which I never wore throughout the trip and got challaned for it too! J

And much to my dismay, almost everytime Vaibhav forgot the Cybershot, but this is where my cellphone came in handy!

Lemme jump to the last eventful day there in goa. Brunch time and we happily gorged onto 3 different kinds f dishes((That was the order of the trip)). 2 Videsi Chics J came and sat at the next table and stared at us as we ate as if there was no tomorrow!

ME:- A SMILE…. ANUj...ANUj...Hey Man SHE just smiled at me.. Wat do I do Man??

Anuj:- Hehe hehe hehe.. I donno

ME:- Crap Man.. WHAT I DUnno? Should I talk to her? Maybe wave her a hello?

Vaibhav:- She SMILEd at u???????

ME:- SHUT UP Man… what should I do?

ME:- Shit.. fuck..shit ..fuck..SHIT!!! Do something U moron.. I FINALLY smiled back! :)

Back to the brunch.. Sheepishly!

Brunch ends.. and the Firangans go like… “Hey there.. u wasted so many Chips there in your food??”

ME:- Well u should’v joined us to help complete it!!

THEM:-- eeehe eehe eehee! ((stupid laughter))

ME:- How long hv u bn here?

KATE( the cute one ):- have been in India for the past 5 years on and off!

ME:- well.. it’s a shame that we guys are leaving for Delhi tonite!

KATE:- TONITE? Aawww..it sure is a shame!

Where r u from..bla bla bla… SHE gave me her cell-number and email-id in the end! J

THE END.

P.S- I clicked a pic f the AIR-CONDITIONER while going back.. My Best TRIp YET!

Waiting to Live.. Or Living to Die??

Tapping your feet in and out of the world, from dawn to dusk. Waiting for the night to sink into the pillow and longing for the dawn to smell the freshness of the cool breeze. Everything away from this is like words spoken in loneliness, lost in time. So why do something that gives work but not pleasure? That gives money but not satisfaction and that gives a fake smile, in a Reassurances to the self!

The days's work on autopilot becomes life's fantasy. Of numbers and figures and conversations that have to make sense experiencing pocket-sized euphoric explosions within, on every day's end. More like a few hours of rest on a seemingly endless journey.

Amazing how many dreams and aspirations are conjured by a boiling pot of boredom. A hopeless romantic cannot be bound by rules, just like a dreamer who can't be slaved by authority, benchmarks, people and places.

I am..

A traveller who believes in encompassing the world, in tasting new wine and hugging new souls, and making love while the world toils. Becomes a part of traditions that have remained unchanged for centuries and lazes on shores bathing for an eternity.

The earthy bed on my back and the sky in my gaze, audience to heards of wilderbeasts making a voyage through vast grasslands.

Some find passion in music, some live in numbers, few swear by adventure, I breath freedom... of the senses, of the body, of the soul.

Often do I have these out of the body experiences that take me to places and realms unknown, whenever I wish to take my being out of a sentence. Bound in ink like words in a book, countless pages scribbled with a plan.

I hate Plans. Life without a plan too has a purpose.

Plans lack excitement, the adrenalin that goes with it and the malleability of change. What I believe in, is a journey that begins in the dreams, qualifies into reality and makes many destinations along the way. In which you discover new strengths, cherish overcoming weaknesses, acquire new habits and indulge in harmless sins.

I too crave for my place in the sun and history, raking in millions in the process(definitely tongue-in-cheek). But giving me a plan would be like offering apples made of gold to a hungry man.

Life doesn't need to make sense where sense is not required. A paddle-less bike ride on a steep hill would always recieve a thumbs-down from the sane.

What is a life lived in complete sanity anyways? Like taking tiny-tots to an art exhibition of black & white. Both would be so so very dumb!

What I need is a simmering hot cup of coffee at 3 in the morning on a freezing mountain top or a chilled beer on a sand dune in the desert. And all this in the company of a dear friend makes life the adventure it should be and the joy it is meant to be.

Many a times I act on impulse but end up putting my call of excitement on hold..

Not this time.!!! :)

One Life

Breaths and murmurs in a horrific hurry

slipping into the oblivion of the past

The sounds of a cry lost forever

in the momentum of meaningless seconds

clouded by a growing pain

that engulfs the night into endlessness

Clogged, choked and numb, a heart,

buried in the sands of what once was!

The dried eyes on a known face

blindsighted by tears and blood

by something that screams silently

in the memory of a soul's demise

Walks silently off into the dark

run over like a stray, lies in anonymity,

Just like it had begun...

Life.

Thanx

goodbye

There she was, her hand extended in a mocking show of help, sneering at every possible attempt I made to reach for the tip of her fingers. Water trespassing its way to my brain, numbing the desperate lunges I made to avoid the inevitable. The apt way to say goodbye! I realized the futility of my efforts in the icy cold death in her eyes, which were savoring the moments of life slipping away from my grasp. Funny! Funny how I managed to smile as the rebel inside me saluted in victory! Thinking about everything that we were, together and apart, like a row to a boat and the wind to the sails. I knew how it felt when two souls lay, interwined, coalesced, completing the unity of the universe in two breathing lovers. And now when she took life off my body, like skin torn off the soul. How? How could someone in whom you’ve breathed love and for whom you’ve lay bare every emotion the real and the surreal world would allow for, stand there like someone who never felt, like someone who happened to pass by a freakish accident, and then silently walked off. Amidst the roaring of the waters and the deafness of my ears, I could hear her say, “It never was!” The dreams, the promises, the echoes of her voice when I woke up in the morning, her kisses which I felt over the phone, those moments when I looked at her, wonderstruck, not at her, but at myself, for loving her more than I was capable of. It never was! The apt way to say goodbye to something built and dipped in the blood of the heart, moment after moment, day after day, from dawn to dusk, and then see it crash to nothingness. Like a beautiful sculpture made to be razed. I made a final grasp and caught her hand, just for a second, making her mine. But then I let go, of her and of everything she was. I sink and drown but with a smile because after losing everything to her, she finally knew who’d won!

THE ANGRY BABOON

My infactuation with trouble! God has a way of making my life surprisingly exciting, ridiculously dull and terrifically inconvenient, all at the same time. Huffing and puffing my way towards a lecture which I despise as much as I despise the chessboard clothes of this pot-bellied dictator. The huge-ass professor, part-demented, part-genius, completely obnoxious. Two completely different yet very probable thoughts strike my restless neurons, either the man will chew away the microphone like a juicy sugarcane or will use it as a blunt weapon against my head… any moment now! MBA isn’t difficult, rather its times likes these when I have to clip my eyelashes to the forehead just to remain awake. This is what makes it feel like a bicycle-ride without a seat on. My ass is always on the line. Mathematics being my ‘favouritest’ subject in the whole wide world (the pun definitely intended), it adds to the deadly attraction, resembling what I felt in my younger days when I aimed at poking my finger in the electric socket. Post-lunch is never a good time to do absolutely anything but 4 hours with this Lord Voldermort reincarnation makes the session seem like a pleasant walk through the countryside. Anything that requires effort has been hugely undervalued in my life and therefore straining my delicate eardrums to listen to what I don’t even understand seems as much taxing as laughing at his non-sensical and dry jokes and cynicisms. I restrain myself from this undying desire to punch the nose off the man. He, who opens his mouth just enough for the words to struggle out of his non-existent throat and neck. And if it opened any further, he would increase the chances of getting blown up as a result of sucking up too much air! I wonder what a person like him would be if he wasn’t a professor. Maybe a comic side-kick in a b-grade Malayalam movie or a short-temepred stout constable in a remote police chowki in Uttar Pradesh! Like an old Saint Bernard, his bloodshot eyes are more of a musing than a threat as he ambles among the log-heads like a grim-reaper, waiting to pounce on anything that dares to move. His bark worse than his bite, they say! Hair jetting out of his ears like an extra pair of ugly wings of an even uglier dodo bird, which even the zoo would hesitate to have. Even though his body seems to comprise of various spare parts of funny looking animals, but the one ape he most resembles is surely the Baboon. Aah! Yes! The golden watch! More like a pimp accessory gone horribly wrong. I chuckle at the thought of him being a pimp, with a purple coloured hat with a peacock feather on top and a matching lustrous satin coat. His ‘associates’ would be hounded to death by his ‘calm and soothing’ demeanour. A smile as fresh as the molten lava guzzing out of an active volcano that has an undercurrent of warning stating “Smile with me or……!” He stumbles and rolls his way towards the white board and every time I anticipate him bumping ‘head and belly’ first into the board, to my great disappointment, he stops just in time to pierce the surface with the marker. It might require a couple of rhino tranquilizer shots to bring this stubborn ass down. Any contributions for the same are more than welcome!

The Pursuit of Happiness

Multi-coloured, yet pure, linear and lusturous...light passing through the prism, 'Passion', unbound, uncuffed, its very essence is in its unboundedness. Reflected and scattered in all days and deeds, taking forms, shapes, figures and roles on the theatrical stage of life. Its in the shivering strokes of a dying painter, the paint and the brush in delectable combination, yet replete with the pain of what life takes away with itself and the pleasure that death gives him. Passion: it never flows, rather rushes, it floods through the veins, every speck of life rises and rouses in anticipation and in submission to what it reaches out for. The indomitable spirit plays the hungry host, thirsty in the want of servitude towards that freedom, that makes him less a man and more than a human. Lapping up, the very thought of fulfillment of that faraway desire, the seeds of which are still buried in his hands, so much so as to vanish and re-write his lines. A desire that goes beyond the feel of the body. That build monuments for love and cuts hands for matchlesness. The lonely lover's passion he feels in the rising tides of the sea, the toiling farmer's passion in the lush-green field, from the sweat of his brow to the redness of his hands. El-loco-torro.... Torro Torro... It dozes its way, possessed by the blinding passion of the colour of the blood. Every muscle, every stride, each horn made to devour the obstacle, the Aim. And He, the master of elegance, passion flowing through his eyes, to the hands and into the red cloth, that now he waves in concealed amusement, at the futility of the beast's effort and in his surety of the climax. Passion. A passion, it exists in the synchronized rise and fall of heads, in service and in awe of the heaven's above, clinging to the hope that the messiah will rise again. By hands that give alms, heal wounds and slit throats, all in the passion of the religion and spirit. It holds the body and frees the soul, that spends hours, days and months together, putting mind to paper, ink to imagination and life to thoughts. He writes, draws, paints a kaleidoscope. Hunch-backed, wide-eyed , pale-skinned, symptomizing vain, yet seeks and finds the profound. Someone, a trillion revolutions afterwards, still seeks that extra mile in perfection, for perfection, not because they want him to be, but because He is. A passion in which the greatest waste is wasted ability, and the greatest sin is ignorance, a speech without a reason, a writing without a purpose, a walk without a destination and a failure without a fight. Passion finds home in success, but more so in the hypnotism of carrying on and trying....

About Us

The History Of Us

A journey of broken dreams

of insidious moments tattood on the glass of time

A constellation of the best and the worst

in creatures and man

A transcending jigsaw of Why and How

of the impotency of the mind getting weighed in gold

and desire impregnated by greed and loathe,

a love for sympathy but a hate for feel.

A world where tears, like shells and pearls,

are trickling and scattered on the face of the ocean

And the sands bear imprints of dragged feet

A place of silicon bodies and plastic hearts

love and lust, conjoined, yet souls apart.

The age of the survival of not just the fittest,

but the biggest, meanest and the soulless.

Its our choice

Our personal Hell to pay for

And its just boiling

Wait till it burns.......

A Life Less Lived

A vacuous chair rocks in melancholy

in a porch replete with stories untold

of the specious serenity in the days of yore

A pariah walks in a beheaded soul

wandering aloof with nomadic steps

a mirage in the unending search of a desert

to regain what was never his...

A wind blows over a blemished facade

the landscape smeared with rotting blood

It chants magical spells of her name

and feels the impressions of a faint touch

her fingers on the pale lips

morsels of smiles in the throes of memory

Each thought a vaunt

in the sweet deception of the self.....

A mournful sojourn crippled by Want

a want of emancipation by a banished spirit

now stretched out on the porch floor

condemned to the perdition of a life less lived...

Love me Leave me

Accompany me Abandon me

Mould me Melt me

Raise me Kill me......

An Amble Through The Vespers

Walking down the forgotten path through the trees enclosed in the mountains Not a living soul around but the nature's theatre, multihued, the kaleidoscope of life The sun kissed air gliding off the peaks laughing cheerfully as it flew past Me... I felt the nakedness, the complete vindication as every speck of life roused welcoming me into its humble abode I wasn't walking, not now, my feet and the pebbled trail, so tangential in relation.... I divorced myself off the city. The nature's orchestra, resplendent, in full swing exulting in the genesis of life in every moment Moors, now brimming, then overflowing with divine intervention, so blatant in plentitude, Almost obscene! The quixotic dipped in felicity extempore like a newborn, the nature became a raconteur My eyes witnessed the shying beauty, the sinuous brook, the flowers hanging lazily, as if in slumber for centuries together, only to be pampered by the caressing breeze A camaraderie of the genteel and the blithe like handwritten love-letters, consecrated to the acme of life The sky's hand held high in benediction this wandering mass, in the ablution of its spirit a bonhomie of countless souls, interwined, coalesced into One I felt my consanguinity with God, He walked with Me.

The Greatest Jackass of em' All !!!!!

At one he started running, at ten he began to crawl

milk wasn't good enough so he drank castrol

It was He, The Greatest Jackass of em' All

Got a girlfriend, a real moon tide

he thought he'd got her

but she took him for a ride

Named him Tommy, his dog Paul

All hail! The Greatest Jackass of em' All

Lovable, adorable, clean and all

Paul Paul even its painting on the wall

Now, frustrated, cranky, low in morale

decided that he'd be more like Paul

So he licked her face and made her fall

Oh My! The Greatest Jackass of em' All

She slapped his face and kicked his 'BA#%S'

he punched her back and turned it into a brawl

Who else.. but The Greatest Jackass of em' All

He said he was sorry and wrote her a sweet story

said he was the aaloo and she was the gobi

both of them together was always meant to be

mad in rage with fumes n all

She told him.. he was the The Greatest Jackass of em' All

He squeezed the bees and looked for honey

got bit a thousand times and thought it to be funny

said," luck's not my way, bhaari hai 'Shani'!

His acts hilarious, his persistence 'kamaal'

He sure is The Greatest Jackass of em' All

But he won a lottery and hit a jackpot

wealthy enough but still a crackpot

lost the money but refused to fail

opened Ebay and put his undies on sale

and ocean for a heart, but his brain too small

That was the story of The Greatest Jackass of em' All !!!!!