Morning rises
Fresh and old
Dying to live
...
Pains forgotten
memory remains
Longing forever
colors for a palette
wiped with a dirty cloth
...
One drop
magnificently small
pearl in an ocean
Refreshing mint
Unbroken light passes
a new dream takes over
simplicity of the awe
complex in patterns
Breaking waves
within the self
reaching higher ground
Fairies descend
demons rise
souls collide
vibrations
...
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
25th August 2009 (Haiku)
Place.
Arambol
earth and sky
One
Party.
Mind traveling
rainbow of people
wandering at 162 bpm
...
Rubber souls
jagged rocks
heart skips a beat
Enfield.
Screaming winds
still of the night moon
fireflies whiz by
Life.
Time and self
footprints felt
being daft
...
Blank pages
door left open
traces of gold
...
Arambol
earth and sky
One
Party.
Mind traveling
rainbow of people
wandering at 162 bpm
...
Rubber souls
jagged rocks
heart skips a beat
Enfield.
Screaming winds
still of the night moon
fireflies whiz by
Life.
Time and self
footprints felt
being daft
...
Blank pages
door left open
traces of gold
...
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Time Check
I have often pondered on certain relationships and there peculiar occurrence. They can't really be classified under a regular name like let's say a friendship or something to that affect.The person just happens to be around and you are associated only due to the proximity you share. Beyond that there is really nothing concrete to write home about, either about the person or the relationship. The best part is that the person keeps popping in and out of your life and now with the communication age he's just a facebook message away.
All through kindergarten up to the fifth grade i used the, matador, school van to commute. This meant that all of us boys and girls, us and the girls from cjm, were in a cocooned and isolated circle away from the seniors. During this time a chap whose name I'll reserve for obvious reasons would travel with me to and from school everyday up to the second grade. We were in the same batch albeit in different classes. Our real interaction happened only in that matador. The memory i have from this pop-in number one is that i invariably would get into a fight with this chap and would beat the shit out of him in the morning. During the half hour recess at school he would gather a couple of his classmates who would find me and beat the shit out of me. Guess what i was doing when we were going back home?
Anyhow, time went by. I moved into the school bus and by the time i was in the sixth grade i had completely forgotten about this chap's existence. Growing up is always eventful and i had a fucking ball! In the ninth grade a 'moment of clarity' occurred. You see we had to choose between two vocational courses. One was the choice between Hindi and Sanskrit. Two was the choice between computer science and craft. Obviously computers but because of my Sanskrit teacher coaxing me into it, i made a stupid choice in Sanskrit. In hindsight it was one of the best things that happened to me. Two days into the new term and i was like fuck this shit man i need Hindi. I was given Hindi after a little running around but my class section had to be changed 'cause the current section, that i had grown up with, was now a Sanskrit only batch.
After six years i was sitting in exactly the same section as the chap! Pop-in number two. We hit it off like two long lost girlfriends - r u freaking kidding me?! Anyway the year was spent making new friends and breaking into the friendships that had existed from kindergarten. By the time the year was ending i was very confident that these boys should have happened to me a long time ago! The chap, no doubt, was lurking in the shadows all along.
A couple of weeks before our final exams were about to start, somehow, the chap decides that he is close enough to me for him to be able to invite me over to his house and spend the Saturday with him. I accepted with an ulterior motive - another classmate lived in the vicinity and i had to work towards making him my tennis partner and i knew we were gonna go and pay him a visit. Not a bad day overall and the only other person in the chap's house was his 80 year old grandma.
By the end of the end we were chilling on the computer - in what he had clearly told me was his room - playing games and the like. Here the chap acts real cool and brings out this 'office file' to show me. He had gone through the pains of cutting each page very carefully and then place them inside the plastic jackets of the file. Thus transforming the really dirty, and i mean really hardcore porn dirty, magazine into an innocuous looking file that he may be using for his schoolwork. Good job i say!
But you see me being me, i couldn't help controlling myself. At a very opportune moment the chap's grandma calls him away for some chore and he leaves telling me to bolt the door just in case. Excellent! I quickly pulled out a few very hardcore centerspreads and placed them along the length of the bed under the bed cover. A little while later i left and pretty much forgot about the whole thing.
One afternoon, a few days later, i get a call from a person who said i am the chap's grandma speaking, you know the one you met the other day and all that. The chap did such a sad job of imitating his grandma that even my dog could have told the difference through the phone. Anyway, this grandma goes on to tell about what a terrible thing i have done. I had no idea what she was talking about and she never once mentioned exactly what she was referring to. The next day was our final English paper. I met the chap outside the classroom just before the paper was to start in the morning. He looked like he needed to catch up on a weeks sleep! I was like what's wrong mate? He explained to me how the house was being painted, how the painters had shown his mother what was underneath the bed cover, how she had freaked out, how his dad had beaten him with his shoe, how his grandma nearly had a heart attack 'cause of the way he was beaten, how he hadn't been able to sleep for 5 nights and how he had not studied for today's paper.
I was like dude hang on, you had told me very clearly that the room was yours so very obviously the bed was yours in which you would go to sleep at night! It was also very cheap for you to have called me trying to imitate you grandma and giving me all that spiel! Finally i said to him chill out man - it's only an English exam!
All through kindergarten up to the fifth grade i used the, matador, school van to commute. This meant that all of us boys and girls, us and the girls from cjm, were in a cocooned and isolated circle away from the seniors. During this time a chap whose name I'll reserve for obvious reasons would travel with me to and from school everyday up to the second grade. We were in the same batch albeit in different classes. Our real interaction happened only in that matador. The memory i have from this pop-in number one is that i invariably would get into a fight with this chap and would beat the shit out of him in the morning. During the half hour recess at school he would gather a couple of his classmates who would find me and beat the shit out of me. Guess what i was doing when we were going back home?
Anyhow, time went by. I moved into the school bus and by the time i was in the sixth grade i had completely forgotten about this chap's existence. Growing up is always eventful and i had a fucking ball! In the ninth grade a 'moment of clarity' occurred. You see we had to choose between two vocational courses. One was the choice between Hindi and Sanskrit. Two was the choice between computer science and craft. Obviously computers but because of my Sanskrit teacher coaxing me into it, i made a stupid choice in Sanskrit. In hindsight it was one of the best things that happened to me. Two days into the new term and i was like fuck this shit man i need Hindi. I was given Hindi after a little running around but my class section had to be changed 'cause the current section, that i had grown up with, was now a Sanskrit only batch.
After six years i was sitting in exactly the same section as the chap! Pop-in number two. We hit it off like two long lost girlfriends - r u freaking kidding me?! Anyway the year was spent making new friends and breaking into the friendships that had existed from kindergarten. By the time the year was ending i was very confident that these boys should have happened to me a long time ago! The chap, no doubt, was lurking in the shadows all along.
A couple of weeks before our final exams were about to start, somehow, the chap decides that he is close enough to me for him to be able to invite me over to his house and spend the Saturday with him. I accepted with an ulterior motive - another classmate lived in the vicinity and i had to work towards making him my tennis partner and i knew we were gonna go and pay him a visit. Not a bad day overall and the only other person in the chap's house was his 80 year old grandma.
By the end of the end we were chilling on the computer - in what he had clearly told me was his room - playing games and the like. Here the chap acts real cool and brings out this 'office file' to show me. He had gone through the pains of cutting each page very carefully and then place them inside the plastic jackets of the file. Thus transforming the really dirty, and i mean really hardcore porn dirty, magazine into an innocuous looking file that he may be using for his schoolwork. Good job i say!
But you see me being me, i couldn't help controlling myself. At a very opportune moment the chap's grandma calls him away for some chore and he leaves telling me to bolt the door just in case. Excellent! I quickly pulled out a few very hardcore centerspreads and placed them along the length of the bed under the bed cover. A little while later i left and pretty much forgot about the whole thing.
One afternoon, a few days later, i get a call from a person who said i am the chap's grandma speaking, you know the one you met the other day and all that. The chap did such a sad job of imitating his grandma that even my dog could have told the difference through the phone. Anyway, this grandma goes on to tell about what a terrible thing i have done. I had no idea what she was talking about and she never once mentioned exactly what she was referring to. The next day was our final English paper. I met the chap outside the classroom just before the paper was to start in the morning. He looked like he needed to catch up on a weeks sleep! I was like what's wrong mate? He explained to me how the house was being painted, how the painters had shown his mother what was underneath the bed cover, how she had freaked out, how his dad had beaten him with his shoe, how his grandma nearly had a heart attack 'cause of the way he was beaten, how he hadn't been able to sleep for 5 nights and how he had not studied for today's paper.
I was like dude hang on, you had told me very clearly that the room was yours so very obviously the bed was yours in which you would go to sleep at night! It was also very cheap for you to have called me trying to imitate you grandma and giving me all that spiel! Finally i said to him chill out man - it's only an English exam!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Can you say 'lingerie'?
It's like i always say - the lot of us were put together at the same time and each had his/her own particular spot to fill, a role to play and for a reason.
A particular, or peculiar i should say, character was amongst us. Tall, 6'1", hefty (read plump), not really bad to look at with his short curly hair and affable little smile. All of us have forever wondered how he ever made it in the first place? He couldn't really converse in proper English - he would always trail off into Hindi. His written English was even worse. A disaster in the kitchen and a complete buffoon when it came to service. Not too bright either one would say but 'cause he was really a nice guy at heart, this alone made up for most his shortcomings. Also one he's your friend you can pretty much count on him for anything. Not too much of a drinker or a smoker when he first came in, things changed rapidly i would say.
I don't really have too many memories of him from back in 1st year except the fact that he pretty much taught me how to ride a bike, a borrowed one at that and whose handle i managed to break. Also he let me borrow his sandals for my vacation in Goa. My real deal didn't start with till like the end of 2nd year during our front office ojt for which we were deputed together. By this time our man was a full power pill popping, ganja smoking alcoholic. The local chemist round the corner had learnt the magic of pharma through him! He was thick with the one of the biggest ganja dealers in town and he had tabs running at at least 2 of neighborhood bars. The man was a walking intoxicant ready to give you the same experience.
One particular day our shifts collide and we were working together from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. The man decides that today is as good a day as any to get trashed at work. With low occupancy and no check-ins the day was perfect and a fresh delivery of beers had just been made! At 11 the man takes one of the travel desk cars down to the chemist shop and returns with an assortment of pharmaceuticals. I in the meantime have rolled a couple and a fellow trashee has the beers organized. The three of us go to the roof of the hotel and by 12.30 are way into wonderland. It's time to go back to work and i decide to take it easy and head to the business centre to chill. About ten minutes later the man joins me to chill as well. Right behind him walks in the general manager who looks directly into the man's eyes. Brilliant timing and the first question the gm asks, "why are your eyes red?". No answer. "Are you on drugs?". No answer. "Can you please follow me to my office right away?!". I believe he was suspended for a week. Not too much sweat for someone who had his first letter of suspension framed and put on his wall in his room in the hostel!
By the time 3rd year happened, the man, who was still in the same room in the hostel next to the bathroom, was a pukka pothead. I remember those days very clearly. At 8.45 i would barely be ready to go to college and our man in the meantime was all dressed and ready to light up his morning glory. I have bumped into him (read pulled into his room) one too many times with the request, "Jalanaa!".
A particular, or peculiar i should say, character was amongst us. Tall, 6'1", hefty (read plump), not really bad to look at with his short curly hair and affable little smile. All of us have forever wondered how he ever made it in the first place? He couldn't really converse in proper English - he would always trail off into Hindi. His written English was even worse. A disaster in the kitchen and a complete buffoon when it came to service. Not too bright either one would say but 'cause he was really a nice guy at heart, this alone made up for most his shortcomings. Also one he's your friend you can pretty much count on him for anything. Not too much of a drinker or a smoker when he first came in, things changed rapidly i would say.
I don't really have too many memories of him from back in 1st year except the fact that he pretty much taught me how to ride a bike, a borrowed one at that and whose handle i managed to break. Also he let me borrow his sandals for my vacation in Goa. My real deal didn't start with till like the end of 2nd year during our front office ojt for which we were deputed together. By this time our man was a full power pill popping, ganja smoking alcoholic. The local chemist round the corner had learnt the magic of pharma through him! He was thick with the one of the biggest ganja dealers in town and he had tabs running at at least 2 of neighborhood bars. The man was a walking intoxicant ready to give you the same experience.
One particular day our shifts collide and we were working together from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. The man decides that today is as good a day as any to get trashed at work. With low occupancy and no check-ins the day was perfect and a fresh delivery of beers had just been made! At 11 the man takes one of the travel desk cars down to the chemist shop and returns with an assortment of pharmaceuticals. I in the meantime have rolled a couple and a fellow trashee has the beers organized. The three of us go to the roof of the hotel and by 12.30 are way into wonderland. It's time to go back to work and i decide to take it easy and head to the business centre to chill. About ten minutes later the man joins me to chill as well. Right behind him walks in the general manager who looks directly into the man's eyes. Brilliant timing and the first question the gm asks, "why are your eyes red?". No answer. "Are you on drugs?". No answer. "Can you please follow me to my office right away?!". I believe he was suspended for a week. Not too much sweat for someone who had his first letter of suspension framed and put on his wall in his room in the hostel!
By the time 3rd year happened, the man, who was still in the same room in the hostel next to the bathroom, was a pukka pothead. I remember those days very clearly. At 8.45 i would barely be ready to go to college and our man in the meantime was all dressed and ready to light up his morning glory. I have bumped into him (read pulled into his room) one too many times with the request, "Jalanaa!".
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