She

Its 10 pm.

Isn't it time for her to sleep. Where is her mommy to tuck her in, to sing that lullaby?

Sleeping is a far cry from where I see her. She is buzzing, but she isn't who she seems to be. At a glance you feel she is wrapping up for the day and the next minute she is in business. She looks naked to me. At this hour, I would expect her to be in that state of splendor. Its common sense, people say.
But she seems to be begging to hide her sanity. The metal veils come and go, sounding like an almost well composed symphony to my sullen ears. It is like a momentary curtain on that gorgeous body of hers.

The stripes and the crossings on her body, skin of that that wretched animal from the Savannah, succeed in sheltering her femininity, but only at those strategic places. The Sparkling jewelery she is wearing glitters in an occasional yellow with streaks of red to add to that sensuous feel of the night.

She is still again. I do not know if its the chill of the late November winds or the fright of the next approaching client which benumbs her. The contours of her body curve gradually. Curvaceous! that is the word! They guarantee a celestial high and a infernal low every single time. To mortals and immortals alike.

I see her being tamed everyday. I have seen her on many a warm summer nights, on rainy evenings when the world locks themselves in. The rains tear her apart, but she doesn't seem to mind it, but somewhere for all of us it means looking forward months of misery. She can catch a cold, cant she?

She gets abused 7 days a week. It feels like she calls out to me all the time. She cries her heart out, but her screams get lost in the deafening silence that Mumbai is. There she lay in front of me, a symbol of transient beauty unmatched. She was told that it was her calling to bring worlds together. and like an innocent child of god she believed she could bring all those men together. Alas, those very men, raped her of her innocence.

Now she just pleads for a better life.


She is the 'Road' outside my home.

Pink Floyd - Animals (1977)

I have been ensconced to my bed for the past 48 hours.
Bad case of tonsillitis in a city scared to hell with a possible outbreak of Swine Flu, calls for tough measures. In my case it was an euphemistic house arrest.

The last time I was this irritated was when I was in 3rd grade and was quarantined at home for 3 whole days!

Three whole days of no 'hide-n-seek', 3 whole days of not getting a chance to tease Roh to a near certain death (one head strong fella that guy...he is still alive), 3 whole days of fresh air in the pre-Beyblade era.

And today, a part of me was happy that I could legitimately skip work, but a bigger part of me is ruing not being able to go out in the evening. arrgh!

Only they could see it coming. I wouldn't have expected anyone else to have that great a foresight. A metaphor for something impossible, it has translated today into windfall gains for the N-95 mask makers and the manufacturers of Hand Sanitizer.

Pigs on the wings (Part One) (Waters) 1:24

"If you didn't care what happened to me,
And I didn't care for you,
We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain
Occasionally glancing up through the rain.
Wondering which of the buggars to blame
And watching for pigs on the wing."

They knew it was coming!!

My only worry is that the next song on the album is "Dogs".

SELF

People are born Selfish. Did I hear you call me a 'cynic'?. But being selfish is being human, ain't it?
And a lot of it resonates from the instincts of survival. So why then is selfish person labeled in a derogatory manner. Every instant of your life is being spent trying to please your warped soul, either mundanely or subconsciously. At the end of this blog I will have posted it to satiate my guilt at some level. And I would have succeeded to a massive extent (since I belong to the lowest of the kind in the human guilt ladder). Selfishness flows from one event to another like Mamta Banerjee and her political manifesto.
But this talk is too intellectual. Coming to more mundane materialistic things, a lot of words and events have stemmed from the self related concept. These words are tied with the essence of selfishness.

'Justification' - Done to defend a well accepted act of retardness you just committed. It could include throwing a dog in the gutter, who bit you because you tried to harass him during his mid road meal.

'Sex' - it is the justification of the urge to excessively spend that which is refurnish-able.

'Beer' - it is sex with Malted Barley and Hops. And some more!

'Wine' - it is the beer of the French who thought 'grape' was French for barley.

Bandra Worli Sea Link - it is the caber(n)et performed to the gallery of the highest bidders in Mumbai

November 26, 2008 - the last pillar of a bridge to crumble which made the superfluously abused term 'Spirit of Mumbai' redundant.

Kheema Pav - a complete but never ending saga which unlike the previous one leaves you on a pleasant note. Eaten to forget about existence.

Drinking and Driving - the meat of discussion at gatherings so as to sound concerned or an anecdotal story of guts and glory. Ame, Llo, Meg and Pun will agree.

Tattoos - a Taboo. some say.

Like I said, the materialistic to the cardinal and the seemingly innocuous are all contained in the Self.

how to avoid being duped.

Get everything on paper. Everything!