Psychofied!

Forever Never

2011-08-11T17:51:00.000+05:30

I have been lying to myself till now but now I know. I am never going to see you again or even get to talk to you again. And yet, I can't stop obsessing about you. How many years has it been now? Longer than the time we actually were with each other. I comb the internet looking for tidbits about you. How creepy! But I don't care. I have no pride. I read over and over again , the words you wrote to me. In my mind, I can hear your voice, sometimes angry, sometimes sad, sometimes singing, sometimes glad...

You don't want to hear from me. You told me that last year when I wanted to talk to you. And I know we can't have anything between us now. No way. I know. But still...Still...

Stupider and stupider

2011-04-27T16:04:00.000+05:30

I can feel it with every passing moment. I am losing my capacity to think straight. I have no new thoughts. Everything I think of, I have already thought of and discarded as nonsense. I have no new arguments. I am not learning anything new. When people ask me for advice, the only thing I feel like telling them is to give up and go to bed. There really is nothing else. There are no miracles, no breakthroughs and decidedly no sensational news.

What a shitty thing this life is!

Explanation

2011-02-04T18:43:00.000+05:30

What the hell! No posts for months! This is terribly shoddy of us! How dare we keep away from our followers? How can we just start something so big and leave it halfway? What could possibly be keeping us away? And at a time like this! Who do we think we bally well are, anyway? Do we think this is funny? What kind of people are we? Well of course you want an explanation! You deserve it! So, here it is.

Drop dead, wont you!

Dropping in a line to say hello

2010-10-07T11:54:00.001+05:30

Just checking to see if anyone's about.

Nope.

Well then it's business as usual.

Cheerio!

Life Sucks!

2010-08-15T15:14:00.000+05:30

A cucumber, a pickle, and a penis were all sitting around one day talking about how much their lives sucked. The cucumber said, "Man, my life sucks. Whenever I get big, fat, and juicy, someone cuts me up and puts me in a salad." So the pickle looks at him and says, "You think you have it bad? Whenever I get big, fat, and juicy, someone puts me in vinegar, puts spices on me, and sticks me in a jar." The penis glared at them both and said, "You guys think you have it rough? Whenever I get big, fat, and juicy, they put a rubber tarp over my head, stick me in a dark room, and bang my head against the wall until i throw up and pass out."

Expectations

2010-07-31T20:01:00.003+05:30

Recently read an article about how parents ruin their children's lives by expecting too much of them. True, but it isn't just about the parent-child relationship, it's true of any relationship. You expect too much from your friends and family, from life itself. Why? Why do you think you'll get it? What guarantee do you have that things will work out in your favour? Why should they? Why do you believe you deserve what you want?

I don't think one ever gets what they deserve. Who is to measure all that, anyway? Based on what? Who set these standards? Who made these rules?

As I see it, one ought not to expect anything, or better still, expect the worst. That way, if you don't get it, you're armed to handle the depression, but if you do, you're happy. That's what I call a convenient attitude. That's what keeps me going.

Ah! Pessimism!

The 5 Stages of Joy (Variation 1)

2010-06-14T20:26:00.006+05:30

Stage One: Acceptance
Woohoo!!! This is gonna be awesome!!

Stage Two: Depression
This is too good! Universe probably gave me cancer to balance things out!!

Stage Three: Bargaining
God please! Don't let this bite me in the ass!!

Stage Four: Anger
Damnit! What's the catch!!?! There is always a catch!!

Stage Five: Denial
Who am I kidding? This is just bad news in disguise!

A memory

2010-06-09T01:04:00.004+05:30

Even though he is my mother's cousin brother, he was more of an elder brother to me than an uncle. I say, was, because I am not allowed to communicate with him anymore. My mother and his father, her uncle, have had a fight. So nobody from our family talks to anybody from their family. And neither is willing to make up.

I had almost forgotten about them actually. I only remembered because of that gate with the chessboard pattern. I passed by it yesterday, and I remembered.

I was around 6 or 7 years old. We had asked a family friend who knew a good tailor to stitch me a frock and we just had to go pick it up. My elder brotherly uncle volunteered to take me to the family friend's house. He hadn't ever been there before, he didn't even know who they were. I claimed to know how to get there. And off we went.

Of course we lost the way. I knew we were on the right street, but I couldn't see their house anywhere on it. We drove past the gate with the chessboard pattern a hundred times. We even stopped and asked for directions. But the amount of confidence he had in me was made obvious when he didn't even bother to note down our family friend's phone number. So we couldn't call them and ask for the proper directions / address. As it turned out, their house was on the same street, just a little further ahead, a few houses after the chessboard patterned gate but we just didn't drive up till there.

On our way back home, we knew we'd be asked why we got so late. He said to me quietly, " Just tell everyone we stopped off at my friend's place. If they ask you his name, say, 'Vijay'." I nodded without really understanding that he was protecting me, masking my stupidity.

What am I to do with this shame now?

Comeback

2010-05-15T11:31:00.001+05:30

Apologies to whoever reads tis blog. I have not been able to update it for a while noe.

Life takes it toll on the virtual world. I have a lot say. The last few months have been probably the most important in my life with me standing at a crossroad.

I will share more over the course of next few weeks.

\m/

And you're wrong about that too!

2010-03-22T23:02:00.003+05:30

What? You thought you had choices? Decisions to make? So many options? Are you crazy?

There is nothing you can do but accept what happens to you. You can't control anything. Nothing, you hear me?

You are given a situation and apparently, different ways to go about it. WRONG! There is only one way to do it and you wont like it. Not one bit. But you have to do it. You just HAVE to. There's no way out, mister!

You can't fight it either. That's just a waste of time. Sheer waste.

So what should you do? Hello! Weren't you paying attention when I said you have to accept it? Okay, one more time then. You. Have. To. Accept. It.

There, I've said it.

Now go live your life.

Too late to apologize?

2010-02-26T21:46:00.003+05:30

My own dearest Psychofied,

Forgive me.

I am not one to mince words. And I am no good at flowery expressions. So I just said it outright. Can you forgive me?

I know I haven't been around for a long time. I am not going to vomit out lame excuses. The truth is, I wasn't around and that's that. But you were in good hands. Those of Psy's. And he took good care of you, didn't he? I knew he would. Does that sound like I took him for granted? I suppose it does. I suppose I did.

But this is an apology to you and not to him. I much prefer to face him in private. But I can't do that with you.

I expect no mercy. But would you hear me out? As tolerant as you have been of me, let me say some things to you.

When Psy and I first thought of having you, we thought it'd be all fun and games. I certainly didn't expect to take you very seriously. We were so excited to have something of our own, something that we would create and give shape to. We didn't think it through very well, we got carried away in our enthusiasm and just went ahead. But it didn't matter, because we were so happy just to have you!

All was hunky dory at first. Both of us were with you, every step of the way. And in came your uncle, Neuro. Remember those days?

And then I went and got caught up with the world and I neglected you. I did think of you and I did check on you from time to time but I didn't contribute to your growth. But that didn't stop you. You were doing fine without me. Ouch! That hurt!

I guess what I am trying to say is that I'm sorry I missed out. And I certainly wont let it happen again. You are a part of my life. A big part. And I was wrong to have forgotten that, even if temporarily. So, please, I am requesting you to find it in your heart to forgive a stupid woman for her mistakes. I will make it up to you. I will find a way.

What do you say?

Why I love her? What is it about her?

2010-01-26T21:36:00.015+05:30

I told her I would write this. So here goes:

She saved me from myself when I needed it the most.
She is fucking beautiful.
She has the most amazing eyes, ever.
She likes games.
There is a geek in her.
She totally gets my nerdy jokes.
Her voice is my favorite song.
She's the nicest person I know. Well, too nice in fact!
Her smile makes butterflies in a meadow look like a scene from a gore movie (Hostel II types).
She reminds me of all the good things that have happened to me in my life.
In all the madness that I live in, she's the only island of sanity that I have.
She love's me too, "in her own way"!
Though whatever little time we get to spend together, it's always mad and fun.
The first time we met, the first thing that happened - out of nowhere, this dude tuns up and tries to sell me condoms. And I'm like, "Not tonight mate!"
We both love daal and rice!
She's am amazing cook and I love food!
She loves being driven and I love driving.
She has her dumb blond moments and I find them funny and cute!
Just the thought of her, fills me with wonderful feelings.
She's one of the few people who totally understands me.
She's just like the Elvis Costello song "She"

She
May be the face I can't forget.
A trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay.
She may be the song that summer sings.
May be the chill that autumn brings.
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day.

She
May be the beauty or the beast.
May be the famine or the feast.
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell.
She may be the mirror of my dreams.
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell

She who always seems so happy in a crowd.
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry.
She may be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past.
That I remember till the day I die

She
May be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough and rainy years
Me I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is

She, she, oooohh she

It plays jokes

2009-12-11T19:51:00.002+05:30

Ok. My life is almost like a tragic comedy. No, wait. It IS a tragic comedy. The way it swings between ecstasy and near depression on a near periodic basis is, well, tragic and funny at the same time.

One post I am writing about how beautiful life is, blah blah, and in the very next I am ranting about all the sadness and the blues and stuff.

Looking back at it all, i can't help but take pity on myself for my state, but also can't help but laugh a little bit on the inside, again, for my state.

I wonder when this yo-yo will stop it's cycle.

It's been a while

2009-11-04T02:17:00.003+05:30

Indeed. It has been a while. But it hasn't been a while. Life has come full circle. Again. I am back where I started. Here. Nowhere.

History repeats. Numbness comes back. Feelings go away. But yet, one feels something. Despite being numb. Something hurts. Someplace.

Inspiration

2009-06-24T12:01:00.001+05:30

Failure in love is second best source of inspirations on the planet, right after falling in love.

You don't really care for music, do you?

2009-06-08T15:13:00.005+05:30

It's my favourite line, as of now. From the song "Hallelujah" - Rufus Wainwright of the Shrek soundtrack.

Thank you Mr. Drain Bamage for introducing me to this song.

What this line means to me -

Sometimes, I get bugged. I get bugged with everyone, everything, including music. (Shocking, eh? I can't figure that one out, myself.) I get so bugged, I stop caring. And that's when I tend to hurt people around me. But those who know me, wait. The others just misunderstand , which is perfectly understandable. Not their fault, is it? And this gives me food for soul searching. Why am I the way I am? Is it me or the circumstances? What can I do to not be like this? Do I want to change? Can't I accept myself this way? Can the world? Do I care?

Too many questions and no answers but that's what I'm depending on you for.

Over to you

The reason to be

2009-05-02T00:00:00.013+05:30

It's a sine function. This life. Goes up. Goes down. And then up again. People call it "the highs" and "the lows" of life. I call them crests and troughs. Makes the nerd in me smile.

For me, life was a constant high. But then when the low came, it was L.O.W. Here's the thing. When you're on a high wave, you can't think of what it would feel like to be on a low. Hell, you don't even entertain the thought of there ever being a low. Wherein, when stuck in a rut, we lose all hope. I believe it's human nature. We may hear a lot of stories about the persistence and perseverance of the human spirit. But honestly, we know better. These are far a few in between. The tendency of the majority of the people is to give up.

I have always flirted between giving up and persisting. I've had good enough reasons to lose all faith in humanity, the concept of love, the idea of truth and the reason to exist. But unknowingly, I kept hanging, by a thin wire. A wire so thin, even I failed to see it. I was under the assumption that this is it, there is no getting back up from this. I had hit rock bottom.

But then, at the risk of sounding clichéd, things changed. Not overnight though. Slowly. Gradually. The trough rose to become a crest. I rose again, with the help of that thin wire that had persisted, unknowingly. Had it been not that, I probably would've slipped into an abyss of no return.

It's good to be back. But the fear of slipping back lingers on, somewhere, inside me. It's this fear I guess, that make's me want to enjoy this feeling of ecstasy, for it might be transient. But I risk trifling the entire experience. It's like being in a conflict zone. Life has taught me otherwise. But there is this strange force that pulls me towards what most people would call as being a suicidal option. But it's my hearts calling. Though I am logician for most part, but this, has totally clean bowled it. My logic just can't figure this one out. As a matter of fact, I have stopped trying to figure it out. "Just go with the flow", like someone says.

For those reading this, most of you don't know me. Few do. Even fewer actually do. It's the people closest to me who might fail to understand, or accept, whatever is written here. For it's not what is expected of me. Even I didn’t expect this out of me. I am a hard headed person. Once my mind is made up about something, it’s made up. For something to come along and change my perspective, my opinion, my decision, so subtly, it has to be something special. More than special.

This one is for you.

Update

2009-04-29T20:32:00.001+05:30

You know you were born in the 80's in India when..
Facebook group created

Link

I remember

2009-04-25T11:17:00.002+05:30

I remember the days when mothers would use the mother dairy milk pack to wrap chapatis for lunch.

Just on a side note: I am planning to start a Facebook Group : You know you were born in the 80's in India when....

True Love?

2009-04-19T19:08:00.003+05:30

How would YOU go about defining it?

Try these for example :

1. Boy meets girl. They fall in love. They want to get married. Parents don't agree. They break up and marry other people but never really love their respective spouses, they continue to love each other forever, in turn ruining their family lives.

2. Boy meets girl. They fall in love. They get married. Parents are not happy but the couple is. In the beginning at least. Gradually, they start fighting but do not want to separate. They control each other too much thinking it is for the other's own good. They ruin their family life.

3.Boy meets girl. They have an arranged marriage. Parents are happy. The couple learns to live together and gradually develop some level of affection for each other. Then, the husband dies. The wife, heartbroken, lives the life of an ascetic. She ruins her family life.

So, what do you think? What is true love? Any or all or none of the above three?

25 things about me

2009-02-13T00:35:00.003+05:30

A meme going around on Facebook. Got tagged. Here is an extract of my post there.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you. To do this, go to notes (can be found underneath your name if you were tagged), then write new note, give it the same title & tag 25 friends.

I can write actually am inexhaustible list. But since I have to restrict myself to 25, I shall write the first things that crop up in my head.

1. I love music. This is actually an understatement.
2. I have smoked pot. I still do.
3. rd is the date of my birthday.
4. I love long drives. I have a need for speed.
5. I am very strong headed. Once my mind is made up, it’s difficult to move me from it.
6. I have many inherent contradictions.
7. I have loads of acquaintances, but a few friends.
8. Despite everything that I have been through in life, a part of me still wants to believe in the concept of love.
9. I’ve slept around with girls. Didn’t even know their names at times.
10. I have experimented with drugs and booze.
11. I have my rounds of guilt trips. Refer 9 and 10.
12. I love my family.
13. I have flunked more subjects than I have passed.
14. Counter Strike. Enough said.
15. I have been slapped by a girl. For passing an obscene comment. Which I did not.
16. I am not very religious. But I still go to temples. Not for me. But for people I care about.
17. I do not remember the last time I was truly happy in the past 2 years.
18. My job is awesome. But it sucks badly at times.
19. I do not need a lot, but I want everything.
20. I used to be very driven in life. Lost that drive somewhere down the line. Been struggling hard to find it again.
21. I almost OD’ed on cocaine once. I have seen the light.
22. I still believe that people are good. Life has taught me otherwise. Somehow I never learn.
23. I am still a good person at heart. Yeah, yeah. I know. Hard to believe. But it’s the truth.
24. I am earning half of what I deserve and one-fourth of what I spend.
25. Do I still love her? No. Do I still care about her? Yes. Always will.

Sounds more like a confessional. Damn."

It's a been long time

2009-02-10T12:46:00.002+05:30

It's been a long time since either of the 3 wackos supposed to run this blog have posted anything solid.

Last one by Neuroded was borne out of sheer angst and frustration and anger and disappointment. Tough times for him. Pray for him.

As for Madame' Folle, she is busy hunting for Chupakabra in the Gobi desert. She has a wild idea that despite it being a Latin American myth, chances of running into it are high in the Gobi. She refused to further elaborate on her hypothesis, as she belives it might cause widepsread panic. Hope she comes back triumphant.

As for me, I am one lazy mofo. I got not shit to do. And that includes blogging. Though I've had time at hand, many a times, I chose to while it away playing counter strike. No regrets at that though. A headshot over a few lines, any given fucking day.

Hope to see a comeback from at least one of us soon. I am not counting myself it. Dame Folle might post something.

And who is this post for anyways? Yeah. You got it. Our imaginary fan group.

You can tell me anything you want... I am here to listen

2009-01-07T08:11:00.003+05:30

FUCK ASS SHIT PISS... SON OF A GOD DAMNIT FICKING AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
and that is how i feel right now... someone please come over and punch me right in the gut... hang on, not one punch go for a bloody air raid.... hell i'll even fucking pay u....
dont worry i am not capable for hurting anyone else... so whoever decides to show up dont worry u'll be safe... i mean u could start by kicking me in the balls and then i am down like a motherfucker then even if i was capable of hurting u i wont be able to...
this next bit is the result of trusting someone else to be as strong as I, this is the product of my second biggest mistake...
first one was that i made a decision for u without telling u anything about it...
this second one is tht i trusted u to gain the knowledge and not change forever... u r only human i forgot, for which i am sorry... i wish the non-human in me was a little stronger... to have known better to have not been so week for u... to........... oh fuck it none of this matters anymore... read, fuck, forget... someone make me forget all i know... i want to lose the knowledge that there is someone out there that can end this pain forever but is afraid of me...

For those who cant follow my mindfuck the title preety much started all of this and this is where the actual post starts....

i had been dieing slowly but today a big piece broke off...
i was trying to make peace with the loss... the loss of hope...
then i saw the last thing hope left me before it disappeared...
a card, with words in it that i dont understand...
come back take this gift with you because it hurts being reminded of wht i have lost and will not get to c again...
funny enough tht wont help either... this is one piece of u that i have forever i just want it to not burn this hole inside me like it does...
i will follow everything you say, even to stay away...
but i ask u why did u smile at me before u told me to go away...
y did u tell me u care before letting go forever...
y didnt u stab me when u thought i was capable of hurting you...
y did u say i am allowed to be angry and i am allowed to be mean...
y did i listen to u...
y didnt i just be alone quite and lonely by myself where u couldnt hear all i said...
y did i say u were dead to me... cause ur death would lead to mine...
y did u make me talk...
cause u didnt want me to be alone in my time of need...
well then y did u leave me to b alone forever...
y am i here... i dont belong in this place...
i can do wht u cant... and thats y u punish me...
y didnt u just listen to me when i told u i was not here...
not all that is left is eternal loneliness, this shiver that wont go away even though the body is burning up...
oh well..... now that u r gone i wish for u all the happiness that could have been mine...
i wish upon me all the sorrows that are yours...
i trade eternal damnation for myself to gift u eternal happiness...

Second Law

2008-12-12T13:53:00.002+05:30

Ok today I discovered the Second Law of Sexual Dynamics (for males) from Questionable Content:

If you think a girl is attracted to you, you are wrong.

As a guy, we are incapable of judging female attraction.

"I", just missed it!

2008-11-27T22:02:00.004+05:30

Need I say more?

Stuck

2008-11-24T16:32:00.003+05:30

It is recurring phenomenon. A song would get stuck in my head. It would replay itself again and again. Not only in my head, it would be on my ipod, my car cd, my winamp playlist.

The songs I feel deeply connected to are usually the one to suffer this fate. As of now, the song I am stuck on is "Thousand Mile Wish" by Finger Eleven.
It's not an extremely amazing song, but there is something about it that touches a chord in me somewhere. Maybe it reminds me about a forgotten part of my life, or at least the part of my life I am trying in vain to forget, holding on tightly so that I can let go.

Forgive me if now I wear the face of worry
This time alone could never cause any doubt
But I’ve been cold too long
Such a strange time to find myself coming down as the rain
With all the holes my love,
To fill up from the middle
This storm could stay all night

So can you stay until we close our eyes
Til your dreams hold mine
Just stay until we know we tried one more time

Cause laughing lovers can overcome their closest demons
And they’ll go on and they won’t let go
They saw something that they know
Has never come so close
Can it stay here for us, for now?

Can it stay until we know ourselves?
I’m torn as I tell
You’re the story that I know and fell from
I’m so far into your story I don’t know why
We think we’re in control
When we lie between the lines

We’ll find a line to follow
It’s got to show real soon
Or we’ll never reach this high

We climb a little further
Cause there’s nothing we can’t get around together
Further gets colder until nothing was all that I saw around

So we stay until the ground
That we can’t come down from splits us away
Maybe stars know why we fall
I just wish they were thinking out loud
Oh, I could wish all night

The Video:

And we have another insane person

2008-11-16T21:36:00.002+05:30

Welcome neuroded
Another extremely psychologically handicapped person with the ability to break stuff by just looking at them. He broke my television set by just asking "Can this break?".

Be very beware.

Another one

2008-11-16T16:03:00.001+05:30

Okay.
This time I am in Hyderabad.
Working. On a Sunday. Client Side. Fuck it.

"Imagination is like a boner. You can't control it."

Hope Leaves

2008-11-12T23:27:00.001+05:30

For most people hope is something they hold on to. Hope is a motivation to keep moving on, to keep trying, cause they have the hope something good will happen. Hope of a better day, of happiness is what keeps me from living. As long as there is hope I cannot live because the one thing I need to live is the one thing I know I cant have yet this hope keeps coming back. What is the point of this hope? It is a reason to keep living; we need that don't we. This hope I need to live kills me from the inside. When Hope Leaves I come to life. When hope leaves life is pure chaos, There is no meaning, no definition, no structure just a drift of time. The best part of this drift is that there is no aim no conclusion, no results. It is almost a trance like state, where the world around either moves very fast and you remain in the same place or it stops moving. Is one better than the other, I wonder? Not sure if I'd call it better but, the stage where the world stops moving is rather dangerous, because then you can see and realize where you are and this trance can be broken. Broken trance is the problem with being in the trance in the first place, because now you realize that the world has moved from where it was and you are exactly where you were. Leaving a feeling of loneliness, desire and unfulfillment. This is why you entered the trance in the first place. So as I sit here, I am waiting for this hope to leave so I can go back to the trance in which the world moves so much faster than I, cause I don't want to understand or realize anyone, anything anymore.

Weed Epiphany

2008-10-13T14:10:00.003+05:30

I had an epiphany, so better note it down:

"Weed is smoked by angels...no wonder they're always high"

My Conversation

2008-09-23T15:57:00.005+05:30

Him : Yo!
Me : Yo! Sup?
Him : Nufin much. You tell.
Me : Same ol same ol.
Him : Damn I hate my job.
Me : Ha! Tell me about it!
Him : So what you doin here?
Me : Jus hanging out.
Him : Nice choice.
Me : Well I like to "hang out" at unconventional places.
Him : But it sucks for me though, have to be here all day.
Me : Yeah I understand, too much of something gets to u at a point.
Him : Btw, din see you around for a long time.
Me : Yeah was kinda busy with stuff, you know. Frankly, I really don't like coming here but people tell me it's a nice place, so I come now and then, usually accompanying my mates.
Him : But I don't see any of your mates with you today.
Me : I came alone today, for a change.
Him : What can I get you?
Me : A new life.
Him : (Laughs) You seriously are a joker. Seriously, what can I get you?
Me : No kidding man. New life please.
Him : Lol. You know I can't get you that. Not now at least, hehe.
Me : What typa shitty please is this? Why can't I ever get what I want!!
Him : Doesn't work that way, mate.
Me : Listen. I don't care how the fuck it works. It doesn't work for me, that's all I know and care about.
Him : Now now. Patience, boy.
Me : I have shown enough patience you know. I have been coming to this for so many years. Never got what I ordered. Instead I would get the absolute opposite of what I asked. Hell, I never complained before today, despite everything. I ordered for others many times, came through. But no, my order, you always have to fuck it up. No. Wait. I don't even know why we are having this conversation. You're not gonna listen anyways. Good bye. Have a nice day.

I stepped out of the temple. I so hate him.

If only

2008-09-15T11:01:00.002+05:30

If only I had paid more attention to him. If only I had been more aware of his activities. If only we had children, none of this would have happened.
But it's too late to sit and cry over spilt milk. What's done is done. All I have left is you, Cleo. You alone have always been faithful to me. Now, you are my family. That's a big burden. Even for a cat!
Don't look at me like that, Cleo. You know I don't think of you just as a cat. I love you much too much to think of you as anything less than my companion, my equal. Come here. you crazy fellow! There! You like it when I run my fingers through your luxuriant fur, don't you? It's therapeutic to me too.
How you stare at him, Cleo! Can't you look elsewhere? Or do you feel what I feel? I can't even bear to look at him anymore. Every time I do, all I see, is him and that other woman, doing things too disgusting to name. And do you know what he said to me, Cleo? He said it was my fault! That I had no passion in me, no fire, no warmth even! Why did he beg me to marry him, then? The stupid fool!
But I really liked him, Cleo. He was nice, quite nice to have around. But that must have been a facade. He was lying all the time, lying through his teeth and I was so blind to it all! What was he trying to get at, anyway? I don't have any money and I am not attractive. He must have been out to hurt my sentimentality. Yes, that's what it was. He saw someone pure and untouched and he just had to violate it. The bastard! Oh how I hate him, Cleo! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!
Oh I have scared you away now, Cleo. I am sorry. Come back here. Come back, I wont hurt you. Come back, Cleo! Alright I'll come to you, you stubborn thing. Get away from him, Cleo! Come here! Oh, I see! You know he wont hurt you, now. Is that it? How bright you are, Cleo! Of course he wont hurt you, he wont hurt anyone anymore.

I am a Dirty Guy

2008-08-30T20:20:00.004+05:30

You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. But now computer has acquired the same personality. And Windows was telling me that. I mean..WTF man!

OMG!! It has A.I.!!! It found out about the porn on my hard disk!! Anti-Porn Windows XP has arrived!!

Fill in the blank

2008-08-27T13:02:00.003+05:30

I have been struggling for quite a while as to what to write about whereas my worse half has been churning it out by the dozens. It becomes difficult to write at times. Either you find nothing to write about, or there is too much to write about. My dilemma is uneek. I have a case of both issues. I have nothing to write about yet there is so much to tell. Every time I decide something to write, by the time I actually start to write, there is nothing to write. It's different from the writer's block that I tend to have at times.

Now this is what I am talking about. By the time I start writing this second para...nada! The entire thought process is broken! Damn I need some inspiration!!

Letting Go...

2008-08-21T12:33:00.001+05:30

How do you let go of someone you have known for years? How do you say goodbye? How do you stop yourself from thinking of calling them and then realize you can't, not anymore? How do you stop the pain? How do you forget?

My grandfather died 4 years ago. My paternal grandfather. My only grandfather. We weren’t all that close - by which I mean that I didn’t make him kiss my boo-boo to make it all better and I didn’t ever ask him for money to buy toffees and neither did I ever rant and rave to him about how my parents never understood me. But I spent a considerable amount of time competing with him. You see, he lived in fast forward motion. And by that I mean he ate, talked and walked very, very fast. So whenever we visited my grandparents or vice versa, I would spend all my free time trying to finish my meals before he did or talk as fast he did or try and outrun him as he walked. He always laughed at me because I was the only one in the family who tried to beat him at everything – the others couldn’t be bothered with such childish antics.

He was a short man, short and thin. Not an ounce of fat on him. If you saw him for the first time what would register would be a large forehead, his beetle black eyes, a nose that curved exactly like an eagle’s beak, straight thin lips and a nicely rounded chin. Although his straight white hair never really grew beyond his collar, he went for a haircut religiously every fortnight. A place for everything and everything in its place – was his motto. It has been passed on only to my father, sadly, of all his children and so on to me and thankfully, I rarely ever lose anything.

I troubled him a lot. He’d be praying quietly early in the morning and I’d sneak into the room and rub the holy vermillion mark off of his forehead (I’d get yelled at by my father, but I couldn’t stop myself from doing it over and over again.) And whenever he settled down for his afternoon nap I’d whisk out my keyboard and play on it, as if possessed. In the evening he would want to teach me a devotional song or something and I would squirm out of his grasp to go and play with my friends / cousins. But right after that and just before dark, all of us would go for a walk – my grandfather and I leading the pack. We hardly talked, mainly because I was huffing and puffing along while he walked at his usual 1000 m/min. He always walked to wherever he wanted to go, unless it was from one city to another. Not that he shunned public transport systems or that he loved walking so much, it was just a habit of his.

He died peacefully, without any pain, at the age of 88. He had been married to my grandmother for 75 years. They had never been apart in all those years.

He didn’t ever lose his temper – not with me, not with anyone. He was witty but simple and just plain nice. He was the one who opened and maintained a bank account in my name where he deposited all the money I’d get from my relatives on special occasions. And after he died, I dreamt about him often, I still do. And in all of them he seems unhappy, disturbed and almost childishly upset. I stopped telling my family about this when they started to look at me strangely and with a little too much sympathy.

I am trying to remember more about him so I can hold on to those memories. I don’t want to let go. I won’t let go.

Is it too late...?

2008-08-06T20:58:00.016+05:30

To M and N for the time in 1992, when I refused to play with you brothers even though you both had set up a tent just for me and asked me really nicely too. I was rude and mean.

To H, when I hated you for betraying me way back in 1994 after you said we were best friends. I should have cursed you.

To late Mrs. V. , you were only being fair when you cut marks off of my math test when I didn't bring my notebook in 1997. I didn't think so then and I wish I could have spoken to you about it before you passed away in 1999.

To A, A and A - you girls were responsible for ensuring that I made no friends in the school. You didn't know me, and you still don't. And if you aren't already dead, you soon will be.

To C, I judged you in 2001 before I ever got to know you and now that I am getting to, I realize you were going through a lot back then. So although, most of the times, I want to strangle you, I can now see the funny bit in you.

To S, for having fought with you a week ago. You were the closest thing I ever had to a best friend and you are the only girl I admire and respect more than I do myself. Please talk to me again!

To Psycho, I never should have met you.

I am sorry.

The Metal People

2008-08-03T10:15:00.001+05:30

\m/
Yes. I am a metal head. I listen to every "grotesque" band you so very detest. I revel in the music that can make you spill your guts. Yes. I am a metal head.

But let me point out, I am not the metal head you will picture me as - tattooed, high, pierced, bad ass. Those metal heads you see are just one of us. My initiation into the heavier from of music was quite early. When kids in my class were still listening to Gupt, I had was listening to my first alternative rock band - Limp Bizkit 3 Dollar Bill.

The differentiation between the various heavy genres at times is very vague. Though alternative rock (NuRock) is totally different from alternative metal. Goth, melo, death, core, doom, technical, progressive, funk, etc etc; metal has lots of sub genres.

But basically the people listening to them are the same, though some may prefer one sub genre over others.

So, here is my classification:

1. The Moshers
These are the "niggers". Those rowdy fucktards who are here to make an impression by emulating the retards from Ursa Minor.
If you don't have a clue what mosher/moshing is about, check here and here.
These are the most hated, yet most entertaining of the lot. Sometimes when the on stage action is lacking, these are the dudes who provide the comic relief. It's amusing to see them piss their own pants and brag about it. Give it up for, Moshers!

2. Headbangers
These were born with a purpose. To bang their heads. That's it. No complications. Have music, will bang head. Usually they come with semi long and long hair, which are usually tied at the beginning of a concert. But at some point during the duration of the musical exercise (this point varies for each person), in logo pe mata aa jati hai. They would, all of a sudden, release the rubber band, and pow. Off they go. Some lazy ass would remain at their places. But the ardent headbangers will actually walk up to the speakers and bang in front of it. As if the speakers will really appreciate it. But please note, these are the hardcore fans. Say anything demeaning about metal, and they will be on you like shit on Velcro, "Shut the fuck up you bitch! No one says that about Shavo!". Touche.

3. Connoisseur
This is the band to which I belong. We are subtle in our expression for our love for metal. We can be spotted standing right behind the moshers, with one arm crossed and the other on the chin, moving our head slightly with the music. Occasionally, some of us might choose to head bang as well. We are the biggest critics as well. "Dude, the drummers sucks so much, even I could do a better job", "Where the fuck did they find this retarded vocalist", "Did you hear the riffs on that one?? SUCKED", "And I was thinking Bhayanak Maut was to play tonight, these bands suck", etc etc. One more interesting point is here, this lot also has the drifters. People, who usually listen to pop music (Britney, Enrique et al), but end up at a rock/metal concert (somehow many think it's cool), and act as if they have a Ph.D. in death (I know a few who actually read wikipedia before going to a concert). But anyways, rock on brothers and their sisters! \m/

4. Wankers
These are those bunch of ass wipes who are just to check the metal chicks out (whatever few are there). These are easy to spot. Their musical gyroscope has orientation problems which hampers them in locating the stage. They end up with their back towards the stage, facing the crowd. Also, some of them are dressed in club wear, so they end up looking like gays in that crowd. Good amusing lot though.

There are several other minority groups (like the band groupies, those who want to become groupies, the ex-groupies, the people who had nothing else to do, etc.). But these are the four major IMHO. If you don't concur, go back to listening to Britney.

Mother dear.

2008-07-28T10:40:00.003+05:30

Mothers! Them glorified creations, revered equal to (and sometimes greater than) the Lord Almighty. Who understands them? Mine is one of a kind, though. If you met her you’d never believe my stories and I won’t ever be able to open my mouth again. But you won’t (meet her, that is) and I shall (open my mouth, that is).

She is a living paradox, this one, always contradicting herself. And when I point it out to her, she gives me this look that makes me feel like the village idiot. Take the time when I came back home from school one day ( 2^nd std) and declared that I hated this classmate of mine because she had a huge purplish blotch covering her left eye and part of her cheek and that made her look ugly. My mother thinks “Lecture Time! Ta daaa!” and then proceeds to objurgate me with, it’s what is INSIDE that matters than what is on the OUTSIDE. Beauty is only skin deep and one should never judge a book by the cover and what kind of a person was I to like only good looking people? What if I had green hair and 50 teeth? Did that mean I was a bad person? Blah blah blah…you get the idea. So, after 5 hours of listening to her ranting, I feel like I’ve had a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. (Refer The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy) (Or you can Google it, of course.) (And I didn’t know that the way I felt that day was the same as having a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster but, now I do. So, read on. It gets weirder.) And sure enough I felt terrible about it and very conscientiously, was nice to that girl afterward. Fast forward a week and we’re out buying vegetables at the local market. My mother refuses to buy vegetables from any person that doesn’t fulfill all of the following criteria. Mind you, all of them:

Must be wheatish complexioned or fair.
Must have eyes, nose and mouth in the designated positions on the face.
Must have well aligned white teeth and all 32 of them.
Must smile in a decent and friendly way.
Must resemble, to some extent, Dilip Kumar or Dharmendra – if a man, and Hema Malini or Vyjayanthi Mala – if a woman.

“But mummy!” I squeak. “Hmm?” says my mother busily scanning the area for her ideal vegetable seller. “But mummy, you said, it doesn’t matter what the person looks like. So why can’t we buy vegetables from anyone? It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t look good, we have to see if he is selling good vegetables and not rotten ones, no?” I say, feeling very lofty. She gives me The Look (No, not the Roxette one). “Rubbish! Who told you that? Appearance is everything. If you look good, everything about you is good. Remember that always. If you grow up to be beautiful, you’ll be happy, everything will work out well for you. And if you don’t, well, we’ll just have to start saving up for plastic surgery.” she rattles off as she gives me a good jiggle as if to shake stupid ideas out of my head. I should have protested but all that died within me even before they reached my throat. I was terrified of my mother!

See what I mean? Not yet, huh? This next one should help.

I come back home from school, crying. (4^th std) A boy called me fat and when I didn’t respond, pushed me so hard that I fell and hurt myself. My mother – “Don’t get me involved in all this. You should handle your school stuff yourself. If he touches you again, hit him right back. You have to stand up for yourself. Be strong! Shush child, stop crying now!” The very next day, I bring back a note from my teacher for my parents, saying I hit a boy in class for no reason. I explain to my parents that I hit him (that @#^%&$*! of a boy) because he had been talking about me to the others and was laughing at me (He got his due, didn't he?). My mother – “Oh My God! How can you just hit someone like that? It doesn’t become a decent girl to be so violent! Next time please just come and tell me. I will talk to the child’s parents and your teacher and make sure nothing of that sort happens again. Always come and tell mummy. What were you thinking anyway? Trying to be a heroine, are you?”

Get the drift? Good. Here’s one more. Just to drive the point home.

Graduate College. Break between 1^st and 2^nd semester. I live in the girls’ hostel. My parents have come down to see me. My mother is dewy eyed at seeing her daughter so grown up and ready to order her food all by herself. She says, her voice shaking a little, with emotion, “Don’t ever try anything new without your parents. You are living alone now. There will be a lot of things you will be tempted to try. Like alcohol or smoking or drugs. Talk to us about it. Ok? Promise? Promise me!” “Yes mummy. I promise. May I order a mocktail for myself before dinner?” I ask, puppy-eyed. My mother nearly has an apoplectic seizure. “NO! Of course not! How dare you disrespect your parents this way? How did you just open your mouth and ask this of us? Mocktail, indeed! Your daughter is going to turn into a hopeless alcoholic!” (This to my father, who suffers from Selective Deafness Syndrome) “This would never have happened if we hadn’t let her stay all by herself. Her friends must have put her up to this. That’s it! I’ve had enough. I am moving here and she’s going to stay with me. Oh I will never be able to show my face in public ever again! What will people say? You will never talk about all this! Do you understand, young lady? Never! NEVER, you hear? Dispel such sickening thoughts from your mind. From now on, you will eat, drink and breathe only your studies. Pah!” “A mocktail is non-alcoholic, madam.” slips in the waiter. What remained of him afterward, is another story.

No wonder I have turned out to be the way I am.

I love you mummy!

Dude! Can I borrow you car??

2008-07-25T14:22:00.002+05:30

Dude 1: Hey man..I need to borrow your car.

Dude 2: Wha? Wa Happnd?

Dude 1: Man I have been checking your car out for some time man. Looks so fine. Just wanna take a look under the hood, u know, see what it's got and then take for a ride.

Dude 2: Aite man. I usually don't let any1 use mah car man. But since ur mah best bud, take for a ride. But dude! Be gentle man, she's delicate.

Dude 1: Dun wry dude, I'll treat her as my own car.

Dude 2: See ya

Dude 1: Ur the man..

Now just for fun, replace car by girl, and read again.

So Fucking Cute

2008-07-23T16:09:00.003+05:30

She: *Sigh*
He: Uh?
She: Say something nice?
He: You're so cute, baby seals and puppy dogs send each other cards of you.
She: Awwwww. You need a BJ?

And they lived happily ever after. At least for next 30 minutes. He did.

DJ Psych

2008-07-22T12:35:00.004+05:30

There are just two passions I have : gaming and music (besides humping).

People know me as a ardent music listener and a hardcore gamer.

Here is what most people don't know. I am a trained DJ. I got trained log back, after my 12th and did a few odd gigs now and then. But then academic career and stuff...blah blah. So I couldn't pursue it any more. Well, now that I have a few bucks in my pocket, Ive decided to invest in it.

I am launching a new site - www.dj-psych.com

This will be the home site of my radio portal - www.psychradio.in (this will be up in some time).

Now here's the plan.

I'm gonna invite by buddy DJ friends to broadcast through my online radio, and also upcoming DJ's, to promote themselves.
Time slot's would be allocated and displayed. There would be a request page wherein the listeners can request the songs they want to listen.

Plus it's my way of reaching out to people with the music I like, I hear and I play. Most people remain stuck in a particular genre and never explore.
On this radio, expect everything - Trance, House, Hip-Hop, Rock, Punk, Metal, Death, UK Punjabi, Pop (yes that too), Filmy, Ambient, Psychedelic, Down Tempo, Indie etc etc.

Right now I play for 3 hours every night, from 10:30 PM to 1:30 AM.
Link to streaming radio : http://38.96.148.62:6532/listen.pls
Open link with Winamp/iTunes

Updates to come soon.

Why Am I here?

2008-07-18T12:24:00.002+05:30

The quintessential question that has bogged philosophers and drunks alike for centuries. The answer, as evasive as ever. In the daily grind of life, we barely find time to ponder about the most important things; those direct questions about life we don't have an answer to, for we never strive to look for them.

Fortunately (or unfortunately I guess), certain events in my life have forced me to think about it. Anyways, I was a deep thinker from the beginning. I would stare at stars in the night sky and wonder how small we are, how inconsequential our own existence is, how disposable we are, if we look beyond the realms of our planet, into the universe (I had more knowledge about universe than a normal kid due my deep interest in cosmology).

It's a scary experience to dig deep into you. It's not what you find, it's what you don't. On the inside, we are all empty. No desires, no worries.Nothing. Zilch. And the eerie calmness that comes from this nothingness is what scares me. For it leaves me devoid of everything : all emotions, all ambitions, all hopes. People say dig deep down inside to find motivation. But if you dig deeper; there's nothing. In the long night walks I took alone, in the utter silence and calmness of the night, I took a shovel and dug deep; so deep that coming out is no longer an option. Yet, here I am, writing this blog entry. Why? Frankly, I don't care. But mere existence has to be supplemented by certain activities to make one living, or at least appear living.

Before closing, once again, why am I here?

Pass the gene, you bitch, why else. AKA , fucking.

Remember to forget

2008-07-15T21:30:00.009+05:30

She was introduced to him, one afternoon, at the club she frequented. He was there as a guest of one of the members. She looked into his eyes, daring him to stare back. She had that unnerving habit. Most people were distracted by her formidable front and those who managed to raise their eyes further up to look at her face almost always turned away, scorched by her steady gaze. But he looked right back into her eyes with those intense, Al Pacino eyes and he smiled. “Hmm…one of those decent ones.” she thought. Someone was saying something about ordering lunch and asked how many preferred vegetarian food. She raised her arm as usual thinking she was always the only one and was mildly surprised to see him raise his arm too. A fellow vegetarian! Imagine that! Why did that make her so happy? Did it? Why else was she grinning back at him, then? Because he was smiling at her. Yes, but there was no need to look so eager, was there? He'd think she was a retard. Since when did she care what others thought, anyway? No, not others. Just him. Snap out of it! She got caught up with arranging lunch and discussing her role for the forthcoming sessions with others.

She’d been stealing glances at him all afternoon; those luscious locks of crinkly, jet black hair; that coy, little smile; those broad shoulders; that 2 day old stubble that was almost a beard… Was she as desperate as she sounded? No! Stop it! “It’s just because he’s new. I am probably bored of looking at the same old faces. That’s what it is. Silly of me to think I am really interested! Ha! Me? Interested in some guy just because he looked me in the eye and didn’t avert his gaze? I don’t even like guys with long hair or who aren’t clean shaven. So why did I like this one? Who said I liked him? I did. I just did! Oh my God! Take it back, you!” The meeting ended and someone was offering to drop her back home. She was never going to see him again anyway. She gathered up her things, relieved at the thought of going home and away from this… this person who disturbed her. She didn’t like questioning or doubting herself. Things would go right back to normal now, anyhow. She confirmed the date for when the group would meet next. She bid them goodbye and walked out quickly, clutching her bag to herself.

That night, as she slept, she forced herself to remember all that she’d burnt into her memory. “Remember!” she commanded herself, “Remember the pain! Remember the humiliation! Remember what was done to you. Remember what happened the first time. Remember what you vowed. You are strong. You can withstand anything. You have no urges, no attachments and no expectations. You live for yourself. You think for yourself. You are complete and you are perfect the way you are. You don’t need anyone. Always remember the pain…the pain…the pain…”

His eyes bore into hers. And as he looked into her eyes, he reached out to touch her face. She didn’t flinch as she expected herself to. His hands felt warm against her cold skin. His thumb caressed her cheek and those eyes hypnotized her. She couldn’t look away. She dared not blink. His eyes made love to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. His touched her lips with his thumb. She could taste the saltiness of his skin, wanting to bite him. His hands moved down the sides of her face, down to her throat. Suddenly, his face cracked and the skin fell off in bits as another face emerged. His hands grew tighter around her neck as she recognized this new face as an old one. She tried to scream but he was already choking her. “Please don’t! Don’t hurt me! I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever you want!” she wanted to beg but of course she could only utter choked groans. She tried to look at him and plead with her eyes and all she saw was maddening rage splashed on his face. She screamed and opened her eyes to blinding darkness. She was in her bed. That wasn’t real, she had been dreaming. Just a dream. She got up and switched on all the lights in the house. Then she drank some water. Just a dream, she kept telling herself, trying to calm down. It was 3 am. She walked around the house, checking behind doors, under the dining table, inside the bathroom. Nothing. Not even an ant. It was just a dream. She was safe. Safe? Ha! She didn’t believe a word of that nonsense but she couldn’t bring herself to think anymore. So she sat and watched TV till it was time for her to get ready for work.

Later that day, the questions came tumbling back to haunt her again. How could she have dreamt that this guy would turn into that man? Man? No, monster. Why did she still have nightmares about that fiend? It had been 3 years and she still wasn’t over it. She must have lost it because she believed that this one wasn’t like that hoodlum. How, in heaven’s name, did she know? She just did. And that was that. She smiled at having triumphed over herself.

She was back at the club. Her eyes searched for him as soon as she stepped in and was extremely disappointed at not having found him. But she already knew that he wouldn’t be there. She tried to get involved in the proceedings of the meeting but her heart wasn’t in it. One of the oldest members called for everyone’s attention. He began lecturing on the quality of the work they were coming up with – it wasn’t good enough. Especially hers. She looked up to see everyone looking at her, incredulous. She didn’t know how to react. Perhaps she was bad and didn’t know it. She didn’t have anyone else’s work to compare it with! But people had told her she was doing well. She accepted the old man’s accusations and managed to say that she would try and do better. He moved on to other people. She was still very confused. Then, the lady in charge of the project, spoke, “To hell with the world! If anyone tells me that we aren’t doing a good enough job, I am simply going to say to them, ‘Tough Luck!’ I am proud of all of you and we don’t care about meeting any standards. We set our own standards.” Such unconditional support! She felt like the lady had said all this just for her. She couldn’t hold back her tears. No one had ever been this empathizing. When she turned away from the group to hide her tears, she saw him. He was looking at her. She walked away and locked herself in the bathroom.

When she emerged 10 minutes later, red nosed and puffy eyed, he was right outside, waiting for her. “You okay?” he asked her. She nodded, pleased and embarrassed. “Maybe we should step out for a bit. The fresh air will do you good.” he said. She nodded again. He walked half a step behind her as they headed towards the door and then held it open for her. She was impressed. She’d never known anyone so well-mannered. They walked side by side, a foot apart and looking at nothing in particular with not a word spoken between them. She felt the need to explain herself but his presence was so comforting that he made her feel like he understood. She wondered whether his hands were as warm as she had dreamed and not watching her step, slipped. He made no move to touch her but offered his hand. She steadied herself and threw him an infinitesimal smile to convey that she was okay and looked away. There was a bookshop right up ahead and he asked her if they didn’t mind going there. She loved books. So did he, he said. “Never mind his hands, his smile is warm enough for me.” she thought. They spent over two hours in the store, discussing authors, favorite books, recommending a few good ones to each other, poking fun at incredulous titles, testing each other, learning about the other’s tastes, exploring each other’s minds.

The more they talked, the more they realized how similar they were. Not just in terms of likes and dislikes, but also opinions, thoughts and feelings. They shared philosophies and criticisms, ambitions and desires, even favorite languages and numbers! They were incredulous at first, how could two people from such different backgrounds, with nothing in common, be so alike? They were almost like twins, no, like clones.

They met everyday from then on. It became harder for her to hold herself back. How could she? He wrote her poetry, he sang to her, he took her on long walks and still made no move to touch her. She was swept off her feet. He made her feel like a woman, a beautiful woman, a desirable woman even. She knew he was the one. Did he feel the same way? She dared not breach the subject for fear of driving him away. That evening, she invited a couple of her friends over, wanting to introduce him to them. The introductions over, one of her girlfriends asked, “So, what are you two? Like a couple or something?” Before she could open her mouth to reply, he put his arm around her shoulders and said, “Yes. We are a couple.”

They made love that night. She cried afterward. He worried that he had hurt her but she assured him that it wasn’t so. She was crying because he had been so gentle with her, because she felt fragile and cherished, because it was perfect.

The next morning she declared that he should meet her parents and she would like to meet his. Without missing a beat he said, “Great! I can’t wait! How about this weekend? We could drive down to meet your parents and meanwhile I’ll talk to my parents and find out when would be convenient for them. Okay?” She felt her heart would burst for joy.

He was late. They were supposed to have met at 7 pm at the bookshop where they had their first “date”. And he was always extremely punctual, to the second. It was unusual that he was not on time, but she knew he would come. She saw an old couple walk by, squabbling. She smiled and thought to herself, “How cute! We are going to grow old together, just like that couple, but we won’t squabble. Never ever!” And she sat down to wait.

You are too young to understand

2008-07-05T20:04:00.005+05:30

What in heaven's name is that supposed to mean? What's age got to do with anything? Unless you are a 50 year old trying to explain the meaning of life to a 5 year old. No, actually, that would work too, if explained using words within the grasp of a 5 year old. Almost impossible, but not completely so. I'm assuming of course that a 50 year old would want to share such a philosophy with a 5 year old and that the latter will have the patience to sit around that long while the former ponders on exactly the right words to use and that both wont have better things to do.
Alright, so why is an age difference, no matter how large or small, of any consequence? You wouldn't even stop to think to make friends with someone within a 3 year gap either way, would you? But the moment you realize someone's 5 years too old or too young, "No way I'm going to be FRIENDS with someone that old and / or young!" Why? Are we afraid? Why are we afraid? Maybe we think they wont understand us. Or do we think we wont understand them?
I think the problem is that we are already convinced that we are too complicated to be understood and that nobody will ever even begin to comprehend what we say. But, maybe, if we try to say it in their language, they will understand! Perhaps, you must first want to be understood, and then if you try talking even to a complete stranger in a foreign country under the worst weather conditions, you will be understood. I believe so.
Now let's assume someone really doesn't understand you, in spite of your best efforts. Where then lies the problem, you ask? With them! They don't want to understand you! Simple? Yes. True? Yes. Then why didn't anyone ever think of this before me? - Because there is no belief in simplicity anymore.
Having said all of this, I must admit, very shamefully that I did once think that age mattered, whether I wanted to get into a relationship with that person, whether I wanted to be friends or even hold a conversation. How then, did this change? I learned the hard way. But learn, I did and so here's my lesson. I am a convert. Thank you, world!

The most beautiful word!

2008-07-03T14:31:00.004+05:30

One need not go searching for one's long forgotten, and by now, in complete tatters, dictionary. It's a simple word. Quite unexpected of me, really! To use or accept simple words at all! But I can't help it! The word commands respect, demands it! And so I obey.
I bow to thee, o great word! You are most stupendously brilliant and when you shine forth in all your glory, the masses can not help but be in awe of you! Can anyone be as magnificent as you? Not even close!
Alright, enough build up, I say. So here's the word. Drum roll please. NO!
That's it. That's the word. "No".
No, I am not kidding you. No, I am not out of my mind. No, this is not funny in the least.
I shall prove every statement I have made by giving you a few examples.

1. "What am I asking for? Make an extra copy of the assignment! Do it for me, please! Can't you do even this much for me? Are you or are you not my best friend?"
If (sigh!), I repeat at the risk of repeating myself, if the answer to this could have been "No.", nobody would be punished for doing another's work and nobody's friend would fail because he/she didn't know what the bleeding hell the assignments were about.

2. "Sweetie, I love you darling! You look so beautiful today! I just want to hug you. Can't we go somewhere private? I just want to show you how much I love you. This is true love! Don't you trust me?"
The answer should have been, "Bugger off, you stinking beast! All you bloody want is an easy lay. I don't buy your honey coated, charcoal words for one minute! Drop dead, twonk and rot in hell!" but a simple "No" would have worked too.

3. "My dear child, how can you be so selfish? You think only of yourself. Don't you ever think of what this will do to us? We have sacrificed so much for you and we are only asking you this in return and that too for your happiness! Everybody says he's good. Would we ever do anything to harm you? Don't you think you owe this to us?"
Now this is a tough one but can be handled by an emphatic "NO!" which would translate to "Yes, I'm selfish. I love myself, I know what makes me happy and I want that which makes me happy. I owe you, sure, but if that's all my life is going to be about, I wont ever live for me. You brought me into this world because you wanted me. Please don't blame me for all that you did. If you didn't want to do it, if you regret it now, you probably shouldn't have done it in the first place. If you had me just because you wanted something from me, you are wrong. Yes, you are wrong. I hope you will be happy because I am happy and not the other way around."

I rest my case.

Alert : We have another psycho on board!

2008-07-02T20:02:00.002+05:30

We have a co-author on board this blog now. Introducing Dame Folle, meaning Crazy Lady in French. She's not French, but yes, she's crazy. Crazy enough to co-author the blog. Or try nonetheless. Anyways, you'll get to know her overtime I guess.

PS : if you notice, in the header, "my" is now "our".

I make things better

2008-07-02T20:01:00.002+05:30

Unlike false claims by some electronic co., I do make things better, specifically, this blog.
I am Psycho The Great's disciple, and have been initiated into co-authoring this blog. You will probably want to say that I'm better than him but I request you all to kindly not let this hit him too hard. So what if I'm too good for him? So what if I'm way more brilliant than he'll ever be? So what if I think he's a little better than the gunk lying at the bottom of my kitchen sink? He's my Guru!
To summarize : Gird your loins, I'm here!

Office and Blogging

2008-07-01T14:39:00.002+05:30

I have come to realise that the best place to blog is from the office. Nowhere else does my creativity hit new highs than in the confines of the office walls. Most of the office times goes into "meetings". Jokingly, my CEO told me during his tenure as CEO at IBM, they used to joke around calling it "I Be in Meeting". It's a challenge nonetheless, with my CTO and Practice Head sitting right over my heads. But yet I manage to do it. I wonder from where most people blog from....?

A Slow Day

2008-06-28T18:42:00.004+05:30

Saturday, June the 28th, 2008. This has been a slow day. Got up early today, as you can tell by the blog entries below this. I was already up and scribbling before 7 A.M. Last night was supposed to be a booze party, but tiredness from work had gotten to me and I dozed off to sleep early.

There has been nothing much to do today. It's been raining bitches and hoes all day, with the electricity also playing Sanjay Dutt [I'm in, I'm out (of jail)] all day long. Thank god I stocked up some stuff to eat last night, otherwise it would've been really difficult to go out in weather like this.

Besides filling up the blog, I've had time to watch a few episodes of House. The doc reminds me of myself: a pure cynic and sarcastic bastard, but a genius nonetheless. Finally finished "A Painted House" by John Grisham. This book took me over two weeks. That's the longest time a book this size has taken. Usually they don't last beyond one night. I found the plot of this one very tiring and boring. But well it's done. And I started reading "The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Universe"....again. This must be my 40th read of the book. It's one of my favorite's.

I wonder what my day would've been had it not been raining. Honestly, not one bit differnt. It's month end, and I'm broke. Can't afford to go out this weekend. But at least I can put the blame on the rains.

After all, isn't that what we all do? Put the blame on others for all things miserable in our life.

Manju broke up with Pradeep Lergaon

2008-06-28T08:35:00.003+05:30

Got it in change from a grocery store near my office after purchasing a bottle of Minute Maid. Girls are just bitches. But this dude was wanking miser. 5 rupee note??!!

No prizes for guessing who's not getting laid anymore.

Living By Myself

2008-06-28T07:22:00.001+05:30

I miss my home. Though when home, I was never in it; still I miss it. I miss knowing that someone is waiting. I miss knowing I'll get a knuckle sandwich (exaggeration) from my mom if I turn up too late. I miss my dad staring at me when I sit at the computer playing Counter Strike for hours and hours. I miss all the restrictions (whatever little there were) put on me. The rebel in me needs chains, to break free.

No rules = No fun, at least for me.

Choices

2008-06-28T07:06:00.001+05:30

Our life is a sum total of the choices we make. Most of us struggle with them for most part of our life. And the struggle is between making the right choice and the wrong choice. But what we fail to realise is that it never is a question of right or wrong. We all have an in built capacity to differentiate between right and wrong (though some of us may choose to ignore it). The real question is making the easy or difficult choice.

We map the right choice to the easy choice. And that's how most of us live. No wonder majority of the people are fucked up. The easiest way out, leads to the nearest pit. Life is about making the difficult choices. But life is also about making the easy choices, getting screwed and learning from it.

But I made the hard choices and got screwed. Maybe I should've chosen the easy way out.

This is my inverted reality.

Friend in need...indeed

2008-06-27T11:08:00.001+05:30

The more out of your way you go to help someone, the harder you will fall. That 's today's reality.

My friend needed a room to bang a hooker. I lent him mine. The landlord saw it. I got my ass whooped.

Welcome to my world.