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!

'Mega'

I was in two minds whether to go for the Megadeth Concert or not, in Bengaluroo. My first Mind was being rational. I was out of money, I had just returned from the Jungles of Tadoba. I had just spent a lot of money to see a Tiger. My second mind was simply being me. It didn't care about the financials. It didn't care about borrowing money. So as a student of Management, I made the most rational decision.

I went for the Concert!

It started with a 22 hour bus ride. This bus ride was different. It included having a exceptional control on ones bladder, like no other. It required one to eat lunch, dinner in 15 mins flat which included the time to place the order and wait for it. And finally it required immense mental strength to withstand any movie being played in the bus. Other than that, it was smooth ride.

Rah managed to drain out my Zune, even before we entered Karnataka. So I was left with no choice but to watch 'Aap ke Khatir'. It was a movie made to make people hate movies.

After sleeping like a contortionist, we reached Bengalooru at 7 in the morning. And we were taken for a ride right away. Thats one thing I have come to hate about Bengalooru. The rickwallahs seem to be more powerful than the traffic cops. Yeah....Quasi respect is shown to traffic guy, but the rickwallas run the show.

We got into a hotel. I refuse to use adjectives to describe it. Our haggling experts weren't good enough for the determined receptionist of this run down hotel near MG road.

Rah is still not accustomed to thinking logically and expected the service of a 5 star for nugatory room rate we paid. I believe he was in love with the receptionist. He'd call him up for everything. A brush, A toothpaste, a soap bar (A lux bar of specific variety for his skin is second best only to Om Puri's.) A breakfast at 'India Coffee House' prepared us for the onslaught that was the remaining 2 Pan Brothers.

It was time for Stixs, and rationality is smothered when it comes to beer. And this trip was no different. After a blissfull 4 hours of music accompanied by not so great beer, we were perfectly balanced for Mustaines of the world. Or so we thought. We entered the concert 15 mins before the legends took their place. While me, sag and vic decided to enjoy the show from the back, the rest had the alcohol acting in their favour, so they decided to enjoy it from the barricades.
So they began. Caught amidst the Holy Wars, it all seemed a blur. Sau, that bastard again, managed a plectrum of none other than Mustaine himself. We sniffed for one, post the concert, but there were too many losers and not enough plectrums.

A trip back to the hotel wasn't the best but no one complained, for they all knew there was some beer in the waiting at our palatially inadequate rooms. A biopsy of the concert followed. Vic tried to compare the Maidens to the Deths, but his deliberations were squished literally and physically. The next day was to bade goodbye to most of the fuckers...while me sau and sag decided to stick around. Cham suggested this neat place which serves wine. What wine, I hadn't a clue. But the Waiters were careful enough to remind the ladies of the glasses they had downed.

The journey back was in a sleeper coach, which I made complete use of. Slept for 18 of the 23 hours of the bus ride. Felt what it must have been for actors to play the part of a dead guy in a casket. (the mob movies). The sleep was interspersed with a verbal brawls, with none other than sag. Not much to say about the journey back, except I was smart enough to drain out the Zune for my own pleasure in the first 3 hours of the journey.

And so we arrived to the filth and open exhibition of excretal disposition.

One hell of a trip. Though Maiden was better.

I need....

I need a smoke. My hand moves towards the warm cup of tea as I sit in front of my lousy desktop. The key board is screwed, takes effort to punch in letters, so much so, that it derails my train of thought. In the background, 'Velvet Revolver' is belting out a classic on my outdated Winamp. A ruffled crow sits on the windowsill vigorously trying to get rid of the rain in his feathers. he looks at me with pity, I wonder why? Hes scavenged hard for slice of dead meat today, and there I lay, in front of him, sipping tea that tastes of everything but the effort that went into making it.

I need to do something. I look at the watch, its quarter past 12. I have practically wasted the entire morning. I have so much to do. My blogs been idle for a while, my drawer needs to be fumigated for the crap, which has been lying there for eons now. Life is moving fast.

I need to speak to someone. She hasn't called. She said she would. Maybe she's been busy. I need to give people their space. Everyone is not as wasted as I am. Or has my mobile battery died. Over the past months I have found solace amidst this seemingly mundane life in her and cricket. But then again, both of them don't go together.....kinda like the same poles. College life seems a blur, get up everyday at 6.40 am come back at 9.30 pm.....life's been good, except for the siesta I miss everyday . However, I do manage to sneak in some sleep in the college library.

I need to eat something. I think I will cook today. Haven't had kheema pav in a long time. Or should I place an order. Can't decide.

I need to change and do something about my "talking on the phone" manners. I can't seem to speak on the phone for more than 5 mins and 28 seconds. Don't know why. The moment I say those dreaded words " and tell me, hows life", I know I need to hang up. Some of them are pissed about this behavior of mine, however they have no clue how much crap they are being saved of. It makes me realize that people truly don't value good things in life.

I need to pause before I open my mouth and abuse. I might just end up regretting it for the rest of my life.

I am bored........I need a nap....

12/3

".....The trail was about a mountain of detonated RDX:
to our shame we reduced it to the level of unused gun."

- Bachi Karkaria