Sunday, November 16, 2008

An extraordinary petition

Hello Sir/Ma’am,

I have heard you’re the President of this country and have a lot powers in matters regarding the safety of all your citizens. Hence I am writing this petition to you because my life is in grave danger. Every successive day brings along new threats.

Let me introduce myself to you so that you are better equipped to understand the gravity of the matter. I am a house lizard and my name is inconsequential. What is relevant is that through my personal experiences, I speak for the millions like me around the world. I have been living in this house ever since I remember. I have adorned the walls of this house ever since childhood and was happy to feed on the insects and roaches in the vicinity. We were a happy family of three brothers and two sisters. Now, I am the only one left alive. Two bothers of mine lost their lives due to food poisoning because they ate up a roach that had been killed by a pest control spray. One of my sisters was killed by the same spray when it was sprayed all over her by this monstrous human. She died an agonizing and undignified death. I mean, killing the prey and predator with the same insecticide is shameful! It has shattered our respect and honour. My youngest brother was flushed away when he went to take a bath and drowned. I didn’t even have the chance to perform his last rites and give him a proper funeral and my youngest sister was shot dead, quite literally. In fact, the same adolescent human who shot my sister is now after my life, armed with a shotgun that fires plastic pellets. Maybe the humans can bear the impact of those pellets but we lizards are fragile creatures. We just resemble dinosaurs and alligators but we are neither as fierce nor as strong as them. In fact, I was under attack last evening and the human shot my tail off! I was supposed to take my girlfriend out to dinner in the loft since it has a marvelous supply of roaches and a variety of other insects but this incident put me through immense embarrassment because not just the other lizards, but even the roaches and flies were laughing at me, even while running for their lives! It was disgusting, to say the least. I do not know what harm I have caused to these humans. Maybe they do not realize that I am their most natural pest control agent with no side effects and my absence shall see the rise of the creepy crawlies in this house. My brown skin compliments the beige walls of this house and to strike up a friendship with humans, I also tired making attractive designs my contorting my body into various shapes, but to no avail. My food supply is dwindling rapidly and I am writing to you from behind the tube light holder where I have been hiding for the last two days. Please send the air force, army, paramilitary forces or whatever else is required to bail me out of here and save my life. Post that, I plan to sue these humans and will be highly obliged if you help me with a few references.

I am really looking forward to a positive response because anything else will be fatal for me.

Thanking you,
Yours sincerely,

The Little House Lizard.

Saturday, November 01, 2008

WE the PEOPLE

In a few moments of idleness today, I was sitting and thinking. Here is what I figured. It may not be a splendid read but might just make sense if you think over it and ponder for a few moments in your spare time, but spare time is a rare commodity and I shall not be least surprised if you find none in your busy schedule.

Throughout my life, I have often heard the elders talking about how our generation is way too different from them and how we have an entirely different perspective of looking at things. We all know that nothing happens without a reason and behind this seemingly different behavioural pattern too there is an array of reasons. Times have changed and so have we as humans. Whether we have truly progressed or regressed is debatable but here are a few things that might be the reason for us being the way we are!

We have seen and experienced a lot in these short spans of lives. To begin with, we belong to the generation that saw the turn of the millennium in their adolescence. Back in 1999, I hardly remember a person who I did not hear talking about Y2K, the year 2000. Almost everyone was talking about how the world would come to a standstill because computers wouldn’t work and things like that. It has been eight years since the turn of the millennium and nothing happened because the problems were taken care of. We belong to the generation that has seen the rise of wars and terrorism like no generation before us. From Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran to Kargil, there has been war everywhere! Terror strikes all across the globe have made us doubt the existence of humanity at times but in the race of everyday life, we have put all of it behind us. We watch the news and forget it. A lot of us are living in alien cities without our families and resort to social networking sites to keep in touch with who we call friends. I must confess that I am one of those myself and I have the time tested excuse “I have no time”. So today, saying hello to a friend means punching out a few words on the keyboard because that’s the easiest way out. We are probably a little more selfish than our predecessors but I think it is just the survival instinct coming into play. In this world, we have to live! We have seen messengers of humanity like Mother Teresa and others leave this world and that spreading fear is fast becoming the prerequisite to gaining respect. The differences between having sex and making love are fast disappearing and the idea of asking someone out for coffee is slowly losing its shelf life. Cigarette and dope sales are shooting through the roof in spite of the fact that we all understand what the flip side is. Are we then headed towards self destruction? No, not quite. I think it is just our way of combating the stress life subjects us to. In fact, the kids now growing up are probably having a harder time because the number of kids playing in a park on any given evening is dwindling rapidly. Looks like it will not be long before they go extinct and the idea of having a good time jumping around in the evening while getting all messy will be no more than a fable. Our lifestyle and we as people are undergoing a metamorphosis, thanks to the pressure that life subjects us to.

What then is the solution? Do we just sit and wait till doomsday to arrive? No. Though, I don’t want to make this sound like a moral science lecture because I don’t think I am qualified enough to deliver one by any parameter but maybe what we can do is sit for a while everyday and go over everything that happened. Maybe we can say hello to the people we really care about just once in a day to let them know that we are thinking of them. Maybe we can take a look at the old photographs and revive the memories entombed in them. There are a lot of things we can do. They need not be of epic proportions. They can be small things because sometimes small things make huge differences. Some people might have an excuse that they don’t have time but remember, nobody has the twenty fifth hour in the day and yet some manage to do all this. So does it mean they are more efficient than the ones who just crib about the lack of time? Think about it if you have a moment.

Adios.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Jihad? Oh really?!

September 13, 2008. Five blasts ripped through Delhi, stunning everyone in addition to killing scores of people and injuring even more. Strategically placed at some of the most crowded spots of the city on a weekend, they were clearly designed to achieve maximum body count. All this was in addition to the three bombs that were diffused by the bomb squad.

To add to all this, the group Indian Mujahideen, which claimed responsibility for the blasts, had the audacity to send an e-mail to various agencies and claim that they did all this in the name of Allah and this was what they claimed to be jihad. I mean, get real people! Do these fanatical idiots actually think anyone in his or her right mind will believe such crappy claims?! Even before Delhi, they had targeted cities like Bangalore, Jaipur and Hyderabad. This is anything but a Holy War.
When a bomb goes off, it kills without discretion of any kind; be it race, gender, cast, creed and even religion. So much for religious motivation! These losers sound more like pseudo fanatics for whom killing is business, nothing personal. And these are the people who bring a bad name to all the people who have true faith in the same religion as these ********. Seriously, what are these buggers trying to achieve? Panic? If that is what they want then I suggest that they get the message loud and clear…we shall not chicken away from leading a normal life because we are not scared. What we will do is hunt each of them down and shoot them point blank. Taking silence to be timidity is the biggest sign of being an absolute jackass. Look, all of you “jihadis” out there, remember that we have a whole lot of people in this country who love living a normal life and if you mess around with the common man too much, you’re dead meat. Do not try to trigger a dormant volcano because the heat may be too much for you to take. Understand? What kind of cowards are these people who sneak a bomb into a place and scamper away? Little kids who have nothing whatsoever to do with any kind of a war died in these blasts or were seriously injured! I mean, these people are outright psychotic.

Trust me, the day people of this country mean business, you will have nowhere to hide. It’s just a question of time. Don’t push us too hard. You want war? We will give it to you but tell me, can you cowards face it? A lot of you, I am sure are Indians yourselves. You have grown up in these very cities that you’re now trying to destroy! What the F have you done with your conscience and humanity, you lousy buggers?! There could have been your friends, classmates, teachers and relatives among the people who died.

Get it straight. Either you mend your ways or we will do the honours for you and the day we lose our cool, we will hit you so hard at places that hurt that all of you will be reduced to mere crippled vegetables. Just for once, come up and face us if you have the you-know-what. We all await you.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Missing a heartbeat

Alive I am, yet, not quite full of life
Like everyone, I breathe too
Yet somewhere, I am missing a heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

The day passes, and night settles in
Yet another date on the calendar turns
But I still miss that heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

To think with my heart I am told
I am told to give my mind a rest
But how do I think with a missing heartbeat?
A heartbeat that’s you…

Somewhere in this heart, your name resonates
Calling out to you aloud, hoping you’d hear
But silence greets this missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

I sometimes wonder if I will live
One beat less than others do
Because I just can’t find that missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

Monday, September 08, 2008

Teachers...

In my nearly 24 years of existence, I have been through the regular grind of school and college and have seen a lot of teachers. This post is in their honour and may just read a little different from the regular gibberish that I write.

My dad has been on the move throughout his career and every change of city meant a change of place, a change of schools and a change of life. Every change of schools brought along new opportunities, new challenges and new teachers. To be very honest, I never had the chance to be in one school for too long. So I do not remember all my teachers and my apologies to the ones whose names I have forgotten, but the learning has stayed on with me and I thank them for that. In a way, moving base repeatedly is a disadvantage because it means getting used to the teaching patterns of different teachers but then, in a way is has had its own advantages because I got to know a lot of people from different parts of the country with varying mindsets and opinions.

Though, in India, Teachers’ Day is celebrated in honour of Dr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, one of the foremost teachers of he country and an ex-president of India but the true honour extends to every teacher throughout the world. I have come across various kinds of teachers in my life. In my student days, I met teachers who had faith in me and saw immense potential, teachers who told me I was good for nothing, teachers who tried bringing out the best in me my sheer encouragement and teachers who thought insults were the order of the day. I won’t deny that I didn’t like all my teachers. In fact, I immensely disliked some of them but they all added to my life in their own way.

For some reason, I have always had an affinity to my English teachers, except one. I guess somewhere it was the love for the language that made me perform better in their class. My chemistry with Chemistry wasn’t explosive but it wasn’t that bad either. History was something I always got muddled up with because I could never figure out who built what, who invaded which country and when, who was born when and definitely not who died when. Coming to Physics, we were always in harmonic motion and I actually liked the subject. Though, I remember, I could never understand back then that if light traveled in a straight line, then how light bulbs did and tubelights managed to light up a whole room! I could never quite get my linear equation right with Mathematics and I remember frowning at the very sight of that subject. But as I grew from school to college, the understanding increased a little.

Some of my teachers, I remember very clearly. I remember everything from their faces to their voices because they affected my life very deeply. Some for good and the others, well, no comments. Even today, there are people who teach me something I didn’t know and I guess this process of learning and teaching just goes on for everyone. Nevertheless, the base is built by the earliest of the teachers. Having said that, I remember my mom. She taught me a lot. And after all these years, she still hasn’t quite given up on her efforts to teach me. Amazing patience! Then of course, how can I forget this strange teacher called life?! It has been at it ever since I remember. Though I do not know how fruitful it has been.

In a nutshell, the process of learning and teaching are ceaseless and all of us keep jumping from one side to the other right from the cradle to the grave. The day one stops is the day one begins to wane. So keep learning, keep teaching and keep rocking.

Adios.

Monday, August 18, 2008

New age advertising

Print advertising, TVCs and now, the web. Advertising has been exploiting avenue after avenue to surge ahead and influence consumers’’ mindsets on a very large scale. Today, advertising on the internet is catching up like a wild fire. The reach is global and the costs are much lesser. It is true that the reach of internet is not as widespread as the reach of print but it is growing rapidly. However, for every creative person in this business, print is probably the most exciting and challenging medium but the fact is that it is a still medium where a person’s vision is limited to a motionless graphic. Television and internet on the other hand can show much more. Internet has an even bigger advantage because it is far more interactive than the good old television. Besides there are a zillion blogs like this which dedicate themselves entirely to advertise and create communities of consumers, which obviously gives every consumer a feeling of fraternity and hence impacts the brand to a significant extent.
From viral campaigns to brand related games, there is everything to hold a consumer’s interest and propel him or her towards the brand for the desired effect. The latest example of this from Indian advertising is the viral cum game for Center Fresh, a bubble gum. Though legends like Ogilvy, Bernbach and Leo Burnett will always adorn the hall of fame of advertising but the truth is, the business is not that simple any more. Numerous possibilities have opened up. Talking about possibilities, outdoor advertising is another form of advertising that has found new meaning in the recent years. More than creativity, advertising is now a game of innovation and finding new media.
There is not a single aspect of a person’s life that has not been touched by this business and the influence just keeps growing. Radio is another medium that is entering the world of advertising in a big way. Standard painted billboards have been replaced by LEDs and from bus shelters to roads to mammoth building, nothing has escaped the “Brand Invasion”. Question is, is it good or bad? The answer is simple. Looking at the bigger picture, it is definitely good because it gives the brands a bigger chance to expand and creates an inspirational value that is unmatched. Though yes, looking at it with a magnifying glass, there are certain short-lived difficulties on the way. Like pressure to innovate increases manifold and properties that are hired for advertising might be a nuisance to people until they get used to it. However, I guess, we should always look at the bigger picture and enjoy the expansion and intrusion of this business into our lives.
Adios.

HELP people...

Life is strange. I mean, there are so many things that one just has to do. There is this public image one has to maintain irrespective of what’s on a person’s mind and the other face is what the people close to a person know. Like right now, I am in a phase of life where I just want to run away from everything and be with myself but then, work demands attention too! Can’t compromise on that so have to work no matter what happens. The truth is, I miss Little T. A lot of people have asked me what her actual name is but sorry, nobody gets to know that. I just lost her without too much of a chance of a return and I am upset. Very upset. But then, things are not in my hand and she doesn’t look too keen on setting things right. I miss her. I really do. And if any of is reading this blog right now, please do me a favour, please pray on my behalf. I mean, I have tried everything under the Sun that can be called fair. And I really don’t want to play unfair when it comes to her because I will not be able to bear the guilt. And if there is an all pervading power, or God, or anything such as that, then that power isn’t responding to my pleas. Maybe He/She will respond to yours. I will be really obliged. Honestly, nobody has meant this much to me ever and I really miss her. Please help me out people. Please. You know, I have never really had anyone who could ever talk to her on my behalf and me doing it myself obviously sounded very cheap. She’s very angry with me and very upset. Really counting on everyone who reads this post. Thanks a ton!

Adios.

Friday, August 01, 2008

Funny hospitals

The intrusion of doctors and scalpels in my life seems to be ceaseless. And for that, I have visited plenty of hospitals and I must say that contrary to popular belief, I have found hospitals to be pretty funny and amusing. All that one has to have is an observant eye.

My recent visit to this hospital particularly brought out the funny aspect. To begin with, I was made to sit in a freaking wheel chair. As it is, the wheel chair, needless to say, was a little too small for me and second, I felt so bloody handicapped! Now, coming to think of it, having a chauffeur driven chair wasn’t all that bad. In fact, I told the guy to speed up as we approached the operation theatre and I made sounds like a speeding bike. People staring at me must have thought I was headed in for a brain surgery to fix the wiring inside. Some even looked at me sympathetically!

Then once I reached the cutting up room (a.k.a. OT), I was told to change into the hospital uniform which looked more like an ill fitting space suit! And once again, neither did they have a uniform nor shoes my size. Now, I looked hilarious!

Oh! And did I tell you about the weighing machine? There is this monstrous (in comparative terms) weighing machine put right in the middle of the hospital which looks like it had been originally made to weigh elephants. And some people who hopped on it in fact were pretty close in terms of their weight. The highest was a man who weighed 250 kgs! Sheesh…that’s 2 and a half quintals!

Now I shall come to what happened in the OT. To begin with, the stretcher was a little too small as usual. And to add to that, the doc was talking on the phone! I mean, come on, there should be some law against doctors talking on the phone in the middle of a damned surgery.

Another thing I have noticed is that sometimes, people really try to put up a sad face when at a hospital, no matter how serious the ailment is. Like even if people have come in for a cold and flu, they have an expression like they are suffering from a terminal disease. I on the other keep grinning even in the face of surgeries. But then, I am crazy I guess.

Anyway, I am pretty bored of writing now. So I am signing off.

Adios.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

A word of caution!

After all this while in the world of advertising, here are some observations:

First of all, every advertising agency should put a board of statutory warning outside their offices which reads: “People with any semblance of sanity, please do not step in”. Like those signboards which hold the owners responsible for their cars parked in the parking lot.

Just in case some “maverick” ignores the board and decides to enter, do not be surprised if you find a paper ball crashing into your head out of the blue. It’s probably the creative team indulging in paper ball warfare. (See?! That’s why one should pay heed to signboards!)
At saner times, you might just find the people playing cricket. So please be careful not to step into the “ground”.

Second, a sincere word of advice: please do not come in at lunch time because it will probably make you feel that all the refugees of the world have just migrated to India. Sometimes I think that maybe even the chicken on the plate probably curses its luck for having ended up on that plate! It is like a pack of wolves devouring a prey (damn! It reminds me of an account I am working on)! And people in advertising can be found eating at all times. Especially the creative lot. We call it “FOOD for THOUGHT”. When it comes to food, we forget all cast, creed and various other biases…

Third. Either carry ear muffs or be prepared to hear a volley of the choicest of abuses being hurled from all corners of the office. They may not be targeted at you but they will get into your ears nevertheless. And if you’re IN advertising, please keep quiet while you have parents and elders around because you never know what slips out! And…err…that may not be the most comfortable of situations.

There are a lot of other precautions as well but as long you keep these three rules in mind, you will not need the rest. If however, you ignore these rules, then you deserve what you get to hear and see. So I won’t tell you the other rules anyway. If you still have the guts to step in, welcome. And…all the best!

Adios.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Little conversations…

A lot of times I sit and think of you. Your face and that smile are crystal clear in my mind. A lot of times, things give me a feeling of déjà vu. I remember little conversations we had and how much difference they made.

There was one night when dad was here. He was sleeping and I was talking to you, standing on the terrace. I had asked you out but you hadn’t made a yet decision then. I was ranting on about how I dislike my parts of my past and how difficult it was for me to explain to you how much I love you. You patiently heard me out for 45 minutes. And then you spoke.

“You know what I feel like doing right now?” you asked.

“What?” I said

“I feel like coming there and giving you a big hug” you replied.

I felt like dropping everything and flying to you. That was one moment when I really wished I had wings…

Then there was my cousin’s wedding. I was at his place with celebration in the air. But no celebration in my life has ever been complete without you and neither will it ever be. So I called you. You sounded upset. You were crying. I could feel the tears in your voice.

“I will call you later” you said.

“No listen…one second…talk to me dear” I replied. I have always been persistent, haven’t I?

So after a while you started speaking. You broke down. I hated myself for being so far away from you. I wished I could run to you and hold you in my arms till those tears faded away and I wished I could make you smile. I didn’t know what to say so I let my heart speak. I heard all that you had to say with silence and then spoke. After about an hour, I heard you laugh. It felt wonderful. I could make my little princess laugh. You kept insisting that I should go back and have fun with the people here but for me, someone was far more important. It was you, my dear. Weddings happen all over the world everyday but I never want to see you cry. Even today, I wish I have the tears that belong to you while you take the smiles and joys from me. I will gladly trade the happiness in my life for the sadness in yours darling. That, I guess is love.

At the reception again, I called you. The place was teeming with people. Some I knew. Most, I didn’t. But without you I felt very lonely and out of place. Seemed like a part of me was missing. I told you about the incessant bugging of people and how I had to welcome people who were total strangers and how I had very conveniently been put in charge of food and beverages. You laughed at my inane descriptions and though I was making a total fool of myself, I loved it baby because it made you smile.

I remember when I had fever, you told me to tell the fever to go find someone else because I hated competition. I laughed. Inside me, I wanted to run to you and tell you that no matter what happens, I will never let you go away. I will hold you close and be with you. And no woman can ever be competition to the place you held in my life. You still hold that place my love.

I remember rushing to pay my phone bills so that I would talk to you a little more because being so far away from you, it was the only way I could feel your warmth beside me as I lay on the bed after a hard day. Today, time and again I feel like picking up the phone and dialing your number but I stop short of it because maybe you wouldn’t like to hear my voice now. Even today, I crave for those seemingly meaningless conversations that had so much meaning. My arms lie outstretched in the hope that I will have the chance to hold you in them again…

It is a hope. It is a bleak spot of light in the dark. But light, nevertheless. I love you and I will always be only yours…

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

When it rains cats and dogs…

Of late, it’s been pouring in this city. May be very soon, Delhi will be in competition with Venice. Anyway, that’s for later. Right now, let me talk of what’s more immediate.

First of all, it reminds me of little T. But coming to think of it, what doesn’t? So I shall not get into that either. So the question is, what on earth do I want to get into in this post? Good question. Read on…

Let me begin with the weather. It is the perfect setting for a steaming hot flask full of strong coffee with baked or fried snacks, dim lights, an engrossing book and soft music. Sounds like a utopian world, doesn’t it? I know. But then there is more to this utopia than meets the eye.

To begin with, when it rains this heavily, visibility is reduces almost to half and with traffic like Delhi, you better make sure your insurance policy is in place before you step out. The other thing is that bacteria grows in the rainy season and hence the garbage dumps give out an amazing fragrance that the human mind is not evolved enough to appreciate! Third, cars zooming past may, in perfect coordination with the puddles on the road, spray you with colours that will never fade from those wonderful clothes. Good idea. Next time when I have to colour my white shirt “earthy brown” I will simply wear it and stand next to a puddle in the rain. Yet another thing is that we all know water to be a force to reckon with. When it can cut through rocks, how do these man made roads stand before the rain? Result; bikes skid, cycles topple and cars fail to brake! And I almost forgot that the muck around can actually make you feel like you walking on a piece of soggy cake.

So much for criticism. Allow me to now get a little romantic. Little droplets of rain pattering away at the window panes, the Sun enveloped by the clouds and symphony played by the rain drops crashing against solid surfaces deepen the roots of laziness in a person. And if you have the right company, which idiot will want to step out? The smell of the wet earth and the greenery around are so intoxicating that there is every chance that a person just remains frozen for a while. After a shower, everything looks so washed and renewed!

Watching the kids play and splash in the rain while setting paper boats afloat gives me a feeling of déjà vu. Amidst all this, wonderful aroma rises from some kitchen and carried by the wet wind to my doorstep. Sometimes, I just feel like running out in the rain like the good old days. But I am stuck with work in office! Damn.

There are little earthen bowls placed on the terrace that collects the water during rains and later, birds that perch on the terrace drink out of those bowls. Rains are known to be all the more enticing to people in love. No wonder I am missing little T.

Oh!! The rains just got heavy again…and after having written all this about the rain, I just can’t sit here and not go and get drenched! So I am off. And considering it’s almost 3 at night, if you find this post a tad bit weird, dismiss it as a figment of imagination of an insane mind.

Adios.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Advantages and disadvantages of being tall…



Every coin has two sides. Good and bad. So does one’s height. Now, I stand six feet two inches above sea level so I haven’t quite had a chance of being short but I can sure tell you the sunny and cloudy aspects of being tall. Read on, if you please…

I shall begin with the disadvantages because the best (read advantages) should be saved for the last.

First, if a person is taller than the average height then he or she stands a good chance banging his or her head into objects dangling from the ceiling. Be it a wind-chime, a lamp or a bell in a temple. One goes clanking everywhere!

In fact, I hit my head so many times in the frame of the door of my house that my dad finally changed the frame itself!

Second, a taller frame means lesser availability of basic necessities like clothes and shoes because taller people are bound to have longer limbs. In fact, I remember, while in school, I went to buy canvas shoes for the sports classes and when I told him which size I wanted, the salesman just said one thing “Sir, the company doesn’t make shoes in such abnormal sizes”. I felt like an alien who was left behind by the spaceship!

Third, since tall people are easy to spot, they are very conveniently put to use as human watch towers, reference points and ladders. Whenever out in a group, if anyone strays away, I am invariably used as the reference and if I am found to be on my own, without the rest of the gang around, I am told to stick to the gang as it’s easy to spot me and hence the gang. Damn! I am tempted to file a complaint with the National Human Rights Commission!

Fourth, space is a constant constraint. Be it a car, a plane or a chair, nothing seems to have enough space. If I am in the front seat of a car, I have to push the seat back and unless it’s a really petite person sitting behind me, things seem cramped. In flights, I always have to ask the cabin crew to move me to a seat over the emergency exit and in my office, if I ever want to stretch my legs out, I have to be really careful lest I ram into someone standing right behind me because pushing the chair back means occupying more than half the space in the passage. Why can’t people just make things bigger to occupy extra large people like us?! Very unfair!

Fifth, it is difficult to hide. Countless times, I have wished that I was a little more compact so that I could just hide behind someone when people are looking for me. Especially those whom a want to avoid. Alas! I can’t!

Sixth, movement has to be extra careful because of the “far reaching effects” of the limbs. Two cases in point:

One day, I was standing beside my art partner, checking out the work that he was doing. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, he started hurling abuses at me. It was only after a few moments that I realized I was standing on his toes. And the other day, while paper-ball warfare was on in the office, I raised my leg in a mock kick to ward my art partner off. Unfortunately, I miscalculated the length and reach of my lower limbs and I struck him right…err…THERE. And he sank to the floor holding…err…THAT. My deepest condolences to his would be wife. The damage, I swear, was unintentional!

Seventh, being taller means having a larger frame and hence excess utilization of resources. For example, while a normal person can take a bath with two buckets of water, I need three. See? That’s two buckets of water wasted per day, considering I take a bath twice a day. So now calculate, how much wastage will that amount to, per year?! But it isn’t my fault, is it?!

Eighth, doctors say that taller people stand a higher chance of developing back problems at a later stage in life because of the longer spine. Wonderfully encouraging, must say!

Ninth, furniture is not made for such big people. And I mean furniture of any kind. Sometime back, when I had bruised my palm pretty bad and ended up with 32 stitches on them, there was one problem in addition to the fact that the blood wouldn’t stop. It was that I just wouldn’t fit into the damned stretcher that I was laid on! The lady who was giving me the stitches just said that it wasn’t her problem that I was bigger than the normal human size. Are the medical instruments’ companies listening?!

Tenth, at most times, people flatly refuse to walk alongside someone extra tall because they feel dwarfed. I am lucky that Little T and I never had that problem because she is tall too. Though, not abnormally tall. She is one person who looks wonderful with the height that she’s got. She is just perfect.

So, these were the disadvantages. Now, let me tell you of the advantages.

First, tall people get a better view of things in life. This statement is meant to be open ended so go ahead and make your own interpretations. Hehe…

Second, things can be reached for much more easily than for most people because all that tall people have to do is stretch their limbs out to the maximum.

Third, the ones who’re tall don’t have to worry about being left behind because in the rare case they are, all they have to do is take a few long strides to make up for the distance. Though I wish, every distance could be bridged just as easily…

Fourth, they do not have to worry about their hair being messed up because most people can’t look above their shoulders in any case. Now THAT is a real advantage I am talking about.

I wracked my brains a lot but couldn’t come up with more positive arguments. So that leaves the ratio of disadvantages to advantages at 10:4.

No wonder then, that it’s said that good things come in small packages. Though, I don’t complain about being tall. In fact I like it because people look up to me, quite literally.

If anyone has any more points to be added to the positives, please feel free to contribute because, honestly, I will be glad to include them!

Adios.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

One fine day in the winter of ’07…


I opened my eyes. It was 1 O’clock in the table clock. It was pretty late but considering we had gone to sleep at 5 in the morning, it had to be late. “Office!”, I thought but then decided not to go. I knew that once I went, I would be stuck there for quite a while and I had no intentions of staying away from you for so long.

I turned and looked at you. You were sleeping like a baby. I kissed you on the forehead and adjusted the sheet on you. You, in turn wrapped your arm around me, still asleep. I looked at you for a while and then slid my arm under your head so that it was resting on my shoulder and I lay down again. I lay like that for quite a while; holding you in my arms. I didn’t want to budge because I knew that being a light sleeper, it might have disturbed your sleep. But finally I had to get up to make some lunch for us because I knew you would be famished the moment you woke up. So I carefully picked your head up and put it on the pillow. You opened your eyes for a brief moment, smiled at me, muttered good morning and curled up and went back to sleep. I thought you were absolutely adorable. I mean…you were hot and sexy and all that but above all, you were adorable!

I went to the kitchen to figure out what to make for you. I set the rice and dal for khichadi in the pressure cooker and then set down to shell green peas for the omelette. Suddenly, you crept into the kitchen as noiselessly as you could and hugged me from behind. Though I had heard you come in, I pretended to be surprised because I loved to see that joy on your face, of having surprised me and having played a prank successfully. You asked me what I was doing and I told you. You pondered over it for a while, asking me if you could help. I asked you go and watch some TV because I wanted to pamper you. You were my little princess, after all! But adamant that you have always been, you refused. Instead, you sat on the kitchen counter and started popping the green peas into your mouth one by one. I told you what they were for so you dropped a few into my mouth as well and said we could peel more if we needed. I remember you were grinning. I loved that mischief in your eyes. Then, as if to prove a point, you started shelling the remaining green peas but gave up after a few. Patience was never your forte dear…

Then you went out of the kitchen and took me along, giving me the logic that for you, spending time with me was important. Not food. I followed you out. Seldom had a disagreed with you. Lunch finally happened a couple of hours later.

Then, in the evening you wanted to have your favourite orange stick so we walked down the road to the ice cream vendor and I remember the joy on your face. Then we took a stroll in the park in the compound and you held me tight when you saw a stray dog run towards you.

We came back home and suddenly, at midnight, I remembered that I needed to pick up groceries so I told you that I would just be back but you were insistent that you wanted to come along. We went to the nearest 24/7 and you hugged me and kissed me at the far end of the store. Then you started grinning again, like you had just achieved something huge. I fell in love with you yet again. We shopped and came back home. Then we had dinner and by then you were exhausted. So I patted you to sleep. I remember I even tried singing a lullaby. But what can I say, I suck at singing! So you tried singing yourself to sleep and you made sure that you sang with a nasal voice. I remember the song too. It was “bugging you”.

All your sleep had suddenly vanished. We talked into wee hours of the night and finally held each other and slept.

Such was that one fine day in the winter of ’07. Today, however, things are different and you want to have nothing to do with me. You have probably moved to newer goals in life and you have more important tasks to accomplish. But I always wanted to be there by your side…in joy and sorrow alike. You’re gone princess, but the memories linger on…fresh as ever. I still love you just as much as I did then. I will always love you.

There are so many things that I think I will never be able to tell you now. But I hope the best happens to you my love. God bless you darling. So long…

Saturday, May 24, 2008

A matchstick speaks



I am a little matchstick

Small yet defiant…

Calm with a fire deep within

All it takes is one stroke to set me alight.

Light a lamp, I can

To drive darkness away

Or bring everything down

Turn things into ashes.

You may carry me in your pocket

And forget my presence…

But with every spark…every flash…

I shall storm back into your mind.

Never belittle me as I shall

Leave a trail even as I burn…

Never hold me too close,

For it may leave you with a scar.

Value me you may not,

Because I am negligible,

But when you stumble in the dark…

Think of me, sure you will.

I am a little matchstick,

Small yet defiant…

I shall continue to burn

Ceaselessly…

Monday, May 19, 2008

au revoir darling

Life has come to a grinding halt. All cogs unanimously refuse to work. I stand and watch the clock tick by. Have suddenly lost so much that it seems difficult to believe. The biggest loss though, was losing you. Time and again, I feel like I am walking through a mist. In this dense fog, I seek you and your touch. A hand to assure me that you’re still by my side. Then I wake up. I am jolted back to reality. Regret is the first emotion that hits me. I wake up…look around and repent for everything that went wrong. I know I had plenty of chances but it when one hits rock bottom that one truly realizes that all that is needed is one last chance to prove oneself. But you refuse to let me have it. Don’t blame you my love…I don’t expect you to be as benevolent as God. But I am sorry.

Your memories lie undisturbed. Some in the closet and the others in my heart. They stay still, taking me back to those blissful days. I regret more that I threw it all away. I close my eyes and the mist clears because your face appears before me. The mist returns when I open my eyes. Why can’t I then close my eyes for good? At least it will take the mist away. I remember my friend’s burning pyre and envy him. He will no more have to bear the nasty jolts of life. Is death truly a better way out then? No. I won’t succumb. That’s my resolve because with life comes hope. There will be a faint glimmer that one day I will be able to hold your hand again. I will continue the way we had planned. Though no woman except you will ever be in the picture. I shall stand and hear the clock tick by. Like one piece of machinery next to another. Without you, my human side shall probably not last very long anyway princess. I read the note in my wallet and feel a sudden warmth envelope me. Though imaginary, your presence has warmth.

Your absence will pinch and burn throughout the time I am around and now that I look back, I realize I was very stupid to let you go. Worse, push you more. Today, we are poles apart. And you don’t want to take a single step this side but I shall continue trudging in the fog, in spite of falling and being bruised and hurt numerous times in the sole hope that finally I will come out of this fog to see you standing on the other side to say that you believed in me and I didn’t let you down. All it will take for the hurt to disappear is one hug from you to say that you’re still by my side. If that doesn’t happen, maybe I will lose myself in this mist like countless others. But I shall never stop seeking you because till am alive, the hope will linger. Till God decides to have mercy on me and be a little benevolent. As long as that doesn’t happen, life well. Be happy. I will always love you.

Au revoir little T

Thursday, May 15, 2008

thinking of my little princess...

I am standing on the terrace. Getting drenched in the rain and the storm. Reminiscing the moments with you. I remember that night when we spread out quilts there and I slept holding you in my arms. That patch still has your warmth in it. When I am lonely or upset, I go and sit there. It feels like I have you back in my arms. I remember the day that I had dozed off while you were here and you left me a note saying that you were leaving with a wish that I slept well and I ran to this terrace frantically to find you looking away into infinity and held you from behind. You were a little startled…and then you smiled. On the way down, your foot slipped on the slippery stairs and I held you again so that you didn’t fall. One thing I could never stand…still can’t…is to see you get hurt. A scratch on you is like a gash on me.

That day comes back to my mind when we did a Titanic, standing on this very terrace. Life was so complete! Then those nights, when while I spoke to you, an airplane flew overhead and I couldn’t hear you for a brief moment due to the noise. I despised the airplane because I had missed something that you had said. Even this house has a memory of yours in every corner. And without you, it will always remain a mere house…it will never be home. It has the floor that you walked on, the wardrobe that you leaned on and the mirrors that you saw your reflection in. I can still see your face in those mirrors when I look at them. Those days when I came back home and you welcomed me with a hug saying, “you must be cold”. Believe me dear, I never felt warmer in my life. These days when I come back home and unlock the door, I feel your absence every moment. When I cooked for you in the kitchen and you came and sat on the counter and started those pointless conversations which still seem to have so much meaning. If I told you to go back and rest, your only retort was, “I am here to spend time with you, not eat!”

This bed still lies here, the same one that we slept on, holding each other. Now I spend nights on it…absolutely sleepless. The wash room that we bathed in, the balcony that you stood in when you were upset and tears streamed down your eyes. You hugged me and I could feel your tears drop on my shirt. I held you tight to tell you that no matter what happens, I will stand by you till my last breath. So little was spoken, yet so much was said. My wardrobe still has a part reserved for you just like my life because if I ever have you back in my life, I want you to come back and see that everything is just as you left it. I have forgotten what life was like when you were not a part of it. Just seems like a frightening blur in the distance. Your memories on the other hand, are as fresh as ever. It has been a long time that I have been in love with you darling. And this love will never fade away.

It’s true that I have hurt you. Maybe beyond what words can undo, but I hope life gives me one last chance to tell you that you mean the world to me. You hate me now…and maybe you always will but my love for you will stay and grow stronger by the day. For me, to love you, a lifetime wouldn’t suffice because you mean a lot more than that. The world around me is teeming with people. But I feel frozen in the frame of time with your memories. Each one lies etched vividly in my mind. Life without you seems very incomplete. All I can say is that my love for you is true and I am ready to do anything humanly possible to make you believe that I regret what I did. I failed to understand you and fear that it might be too late to win you back but I hope…I hope I have one last shot at life. There are memories with you that are bitter, but I hope and pray I gave you enough memories to cherish that outlast the ones that are bitter. In case life refuses to offer me a chance, I just wish you have the best of everything and even my share of joy. I will be content with your share of sorrow. At least there will be something of yours that I shall have. The single gift you gave me always stays close to me because I am afraid of losing it just like I lost you…I still carry the little notes you wrote to me. I feel you through them. In those notes, I find your essence…your fragrance.

I have only two things to say to you little angel. First, that I love you with everything I have ever had. Second, that I am sorry…please forgive me. I shall wait for you just round the corner in case you decide to change your mind. You’re way too precious for me.

I shall be forever yours. Just yours.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

a scuffle in the heart...

You’re gone leaving a lingering hope

And my life moves on as it always did

But frozen I feel in the lanes of time

Without you by my side…

I breathe…I exist…I survive…

But the life is missing from within me…

I eat to keep my body going…

But the hunger has perished…

A lone candle of hope burns in my heart

Battling the strong winds that try blowing it out

Every cold response add an unseen wound

Every warm gesture looks like a silver lining

What will happen I do not know

I have a burning hope though

That back in my arms I shall have you one day

To show you that I mean it every time I say

“I love you my princess”…

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Bosses or asses?


(With anger, malice, sarcasm and grudge against all bosses.)

Ok. Post this post, I will not be surprised if I suddenly find myself in the “Physically able but unemployed youth” segment of the society. But at this point in time, I am really not bothered. In a way, I am past these worldly concerns. Let me then begin to rant about the species called “BOSSES” with a joke on the entire clan. Read the story…

Once, the various parts of the body were arguing about who should be the boss. The brain spoke up first, “I do all the thinking. I am the hub of all intellect. Hence I lay my claim to be the boss.”

Next, it was the heart, “I pump all the bloody blood! Without me, everything will perish. I should be the boss.”

While a verbal battle ensued between the different parts, the arse hole spoke up. “I should be the boss. The absolute authority”, it said. There was stunned silence for a second that the arse hole could even think of something so bizarre! When realization sank in, every part of the body was in splits. The arse hole gave everyone a very dirty look and shut itself for 3 days. Needless to say, the entire system went for a toss. Under immense pressure, the body gave in and the arse was made the boss.

Now, what’s the moral of the story? You don’t need brains to be a boss. Any arse hole will do. And I was so bugged in life that I actually went to my boss and told him this story. I still grin to myself when I reminisce the look on his face.

This clan follows no biases of any kind. Men, women, non men, non women, anyone in these shoes behaves in the same manner. A nice boss is probably as much of a figment of imagination as the existence of Atlantis. Everyone has heard fables of “good bosses” but few have probably experienced it first hand. And in this case seeing, indeed, is believing. Though I don’t know what genetic mutation people undergo by the time they become bosses but I pray I can avoid such a catastrophe in my life. I meant the mutation part. Let me now, for your benefit, classify the kinds of sub species that exist in this category.

Absolutely autocratic: It is the kind that believes that since they have spent reasonable time in the industry they’re in, they know EVERYTHING about it and hence their opinion is unchallengeable. They conveniently forget that due to the process of evolution, every successive generation is a tad faster and more capable. Let alone accepting it, they ignore even the possibility of such a thing!

Mistaken democrats: These are people who believe they’re extremely democratic whereas their democratic nature is as real as a mirage in a desert. They have an illusion that they give people a chance to express their opinion and work in their own way. It’s more like allowing one to stand in a one square foot area and say that there is enough space to play hopscotch! That, my friend, is the true face of these mistaken democrats.

Selective hearing: They are like a radio. One can hear them but never speak to them because for some godforsaken reason, sound just doesn’t seem to travel to their ears. Well, it maybe the vaccum in their heads that prevents the sounds from reaching the brain. They say what they have to, listen to nothing and then when things go wrong, they even forget that they said what they said!!

Excuse me: This kind has an excuse up their sleeve at any given point of time. Be it to avoid work or to make sure that they make life miserable for people working with them. These people fish for the first reason they can find to get out of office. It can range from “the neighbour’s dog being sick” to “no water from the municipal authorities”. I have seen a lot of this kind.

This is the brief segregation I could come up with. And more or less, most bosses can be put into any of these though there may be finer differences prevalent across the world. If you find any other points, feel free to add to this piece. And before my bosses find this document open on my computer, I shall scoot.

Adios.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Being corny…



(This is only for people above 18 years of age. Though you shouldn’t be reading this otherwise but it’s up to you to take the final call.)

Rub it…rub it.

Pull it and straighten it out.

Yeah…that’s the way. Now come on, shove it in! Slowly. Don’t rush.

THIS is how one makes a wire pass through a circular disc to make a spinning wheel. What were you thinking?

Is it a flaw with the listener’s twisted mind or is it the fault of the speaker that what’s said and what’s interpreted are poles apart? Sometimes, it is a genuine lack of realization that gives rise to such situations. Like: “all of us crash at his place nowadays because things get easier when we’re sleeping with each other regularly.”

In this case, the context was that five people of a workgroup stayed over at the guy’s place whose house was the closest to office so that it was easier to come in on time everyday. But to someone who isn’t aware of what the reference is, such a statement can sound rather suggestive. I have found myself in such situations countless times. This is what someone I knew had to say about how to clean the grime that accumulates between the batteries and the steel plate, in a torch, resulting in an incomplete circuit: “pull it out. Blow it. Shake it a little and stick it back in.”

Sounds strange. I know.

Being a writer makes it worse. One is supposed to have more than one interpretation to every line written. Over a period of time, it just happens that dual meanings begin to appear from every side…in every statement. And to make matters absolutely terrible, this tendency to be corny is contagious. So one not only ends up being infected…but passing it on as well! Though, sometimes, being a little corny adds to the charm of what’s written and interpreted. I remember having read this print as by Neil French, a copywriter par excellence. It was for a cigar brand called Cigarillos. It read “Gentlemen like their companions brown, long, slim and ideally horizontal.”

I agree that is very open ended but that’s where the charm of the line was!

My boss was heard telling a trainee recently that it was important for him to perform every single time otherwise people would find someone else. I agree. As Little T often tells me, “you have a twisted mind!” I agree. But then, it isn’t exactly my fault, is it? I mean, seriously, I would love to think straight. I mean, get the right interpretation.

Though there is no judgement that I am passing about being corny, it is sad when a very well interpreted statement is wasted on someone who’s a little dim in the head…or maybe isn’t as “corrupted”. Those winks, the sly grins and all that laughter with lips pursed is something that results in a little relaxation when the atmosphere is a little tense.

Even brands are not spared. One day, recently, when I had gone to meet my lifeline...Little T, we went shopping. I saw this amazing pair of shades for her. But then, she wanted to look around a little more so while trying on the different pairs, she noticed that one particular brand was called "Push and Shove"! Ok then. I wonder what to push and shove. Nevertheless, sounded strange. And after all this time, I guess I have brushed off on my little angel cause it was she who noticed the brand. A general request to all budding entrepreneurs...please don't have such weird names to your brands!! Sheesh!

All said and done, written and read, being corny or not is a matter of individual choice but if you want to think corny, go right ahead. There is nothing wrong about it.

Adios.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

The art of SARCASM


It is an art that’s as old as time itself. Probably. Say something with a totally straight face and imply something completely different. That’s the art of sarcasm.

I was out to watch a movie with friends and met an acquaintance at the multiplex. “So…how have you been? Here for a movie?” was the question put forth by Mr. Acquaintance. My absolutely poker faced answer was “No..no…I am here for the Liverpool versus Manchester United soccer match. Wonder why it hasn’t started yet.”

Well, it’s a different issue that my sarcasm was wasted on him cause he gave me a strange look and a stupid smile. I mean seriously, why do people ask questions like these?! Is it just a desperate attempt to begin and continue a conversation or is it that the person is genuinely dwarfed in the head? Sounds like an unsolved mystery to me.

While some people are born with this ancient art running in every vein, some others cultivate it over the years. To me, it comes naturally and absolutely effortlessly. Even my little princess…Little T excels at the art. Sadly, sometimes I have come across people on whom sarcasm has no effect cause they just don’t see the point! In fact, I remember this one incident very clearly. A guy I knew in college was one day seen wearing a parrot green full sleeve shirt with brown corduroy trousers. The day was scorching hot. While sitting together and killing time, someone commented that the temperatures had become intolerable due to the lack of trees in the vicinity. I being me, turned around, looked at the guy who had commented, pointed to the guy in the parrot green shirt and brown corduroy trousers and said “don’t worry, Abu’s around. Just stick a few twigs in to his hair and you will have all the soothing shade that you’re looking for!”

Sadly, everybody understood except the person who it was intended for. Damn!]

Then again, there is sarcasm and counter sarcasm. Now, that’s fun cause it’s like a battle of wits. This is generally what happens when Little T and I have a conversation at our sarcastic best! Such conversations are long and memorable. But if you’re expecting e narrate one here, sorry, that isn’t happening. There are a little too precious to be shared.

Well, the fact that the profession I am in demands me to be sarcastic at most times is just incidental. Then again, there are people who just can’t stand this brilliant art! Well, I am not really surprised cause not everybody can appreciate an art form! In fact, I guess just like we have institutions that specialize in teaching certain forms of art, there should be schools that train people in sarcasm as well. It will not only propagate the art but also equip people better to handle unforeseen situations. What say?

Adios.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Walking with a zombie



(Dedicated to my perennial inspiration)

As I have mentioned earlier, I work at a place where chaos is ubiquitous. Spending nights at office in an attempt to come up with ideas and finish work on tight deadlines has now become a part of life. This happened on just one such night.

Six of us were stuck in office, working. Suddenly, hunger struck us as the clock struck two in the morning. For normal human beings, it is a time to sleep so most hotels are shut. But near our office, there is a hotel that’s open till 6 in the morning. I guess they are just trying to cash in on our erratic timings. I being the hungriest of all, considering my insatiable appetite, volunteered to get the food packed. So I made a list of all that the people wanted to eat and set off.

Between the restaurant and my office, there is a narrow lane with a lone street lamp. As expected, most part of the broken street is deserted. As I was half way through, I heard somebody shout over my shoulder “boo”! Startled for a second, I turned around to see if it was a colleague of mine or a friend who just wanted to derive some joy out of scaring me. It turned out to be neither. Instead, it was a lanky, short chap who looked at me with a disappointed gaze. He was pale white with disheveled hair. “Damn! You were supposed to be scared dude! Now how will I go back and face my father and my fiancé?”

I must admit that I found it funny that a guy half my size in both length and width, dressed in a yellow shirt and baby pink cargoes thought that he could scare me. “who are you and what on earth made you think that you could scare me, wearing those strange clothes? I mean, come on buddy, look at your size at least!”, I said. To that, his reply was, “first of all, let me introduce myself. I am Zazu, the zombie. I have two elder brothers. Zozo and Zimzo, who will now laugh at me, thanks to you. Second, nobody, I repeat, nobody dares to call my clothes strange. They have been specially crafted by Zersache and Zorgio Zarmani. You know, I don’t wear anything that’s not designer. And the only two other designers I like are Zohit Zal and Z. Z. Zalaya. So you better not say anything against this attire of mine, you no-sense-of-fashion human.”

Now I was beginning to enjoy this. Not only did this crazy, puny guy have the guts to try and scare me, but he also thought he was a zombie! Whoa!

“So, you’re trying to tell me that you’re a zombie who’s out to scare people in the middle of the night, are you?”

“Absolutely!”

“Great. Prove to me that you’re what you claim to be”. This must be fun, I thought.

“I warn you, it will be very scary. VERY scary.”

“So that’s ok. That was your objective anyway, wasn’t it?”

“Ok. If you insist. Now, come on, here is my arm. Pull it.”

So I tugged at his arm and it actually came off! Pretty much like it does when you try to pull it off the plastic toys. Needless to say, that was pretty freaky. I was holding his arm in my hand while he stared at me, smiling. Must admit was a little scared but tried my best not to show it. “So, did I prove my point? Now, give that arm back to me so that I can put it back on.”

So I handed his arm back to him with absolute silence. He took it and screwed it back onto his shoulders like it had some grooves around it. He moved it to check the movement and once he was satisfied, he looked at me and smiled again. “What did you think? I am some random, crazy chap who painted his face white in the middle of the night?”

I was speechless. “So…where were you off to?”

“I was going to buy something to eat at this restaurant here.”

“Naah. Don’t. you get much better food a couple of kilometers up ahead.”

“How do you know so much about human food? You’re a freaking zombie!”

“I am indeed and I am glad I made you believe it but the truth is, that we zombies share a lot in common with you humans. Like the Zombieland anthem, for ages, has been this song by Cranberries called Zombie. Have you heard it?”

What was this thing? A zombie and that too, darfed? Of course I had heard the song! “Yes. I have heard that song many times”, I said. “Good song, isn’t it? Anyway now, if you want to get some real nice grub, I can give you a lift up to that other restaurant.”

No way! I wasn’t going to hitch a ride with a zombie! I know I am crazy but not completely over-the-top insane yet. I hadn’t realized that it had been quite a while since I met this Godforsaken creature, literally, and that’s when my art partner called. Heaving a sigh of relief, I picked up the phone though I didn’t really know what to say. I have a habit of pacing up and down while speaking on my mobile phone. So I walked away from him without realizing it and when I turned around, he was gone. A part of me was jumping out of my skin out of fear and the other part was happy that the thing was gone. I finished my conversation and hung up. Suddenly, Zaku sprang up from behind me again. Yikes!

“Here, these are the best dishes on the menu in the restaurant I mentioned. Since you were busy on the phone, I thought I would go and get some food. By the way, which service provider does your friend have?”

“He uses Airtel while I have Vodafone”, I said, staring at the food.

“Hmmm…Airtel…and Vodafone. Sound a lot like the services we have. Zairtel, Zodafone, Zidea and Zealiance!”

“Tell me something; all the names that you mentioned in all this while start with Z. What fetish to you zombies have with the letter Z?”

“Look, around 400 years ago, our council of elders, which is much like your Parliament, decreed that all names should start with Z and nothing else. We have followed the tradition all these years but now, we youngsters are trying to change the way zombies look at life.”

A zombie, talking about life? Paradoxical.

“Anyway, here is the food. Don’t worry, it’s on me. Just make sure that if you find my fiancé Zenne anywhere, tell her you were shit scared on seeing me. Can’t lose face in front of her, you know? She might just call the engagement off. I need to rush now. Have plenty of other humans to scare and make it home in the next couple of hours cause I have a date with Zenne at 7 in the morning. See you around”, and he disappeared.

I was sure I didn’t want to see him, his family or his fiancé…ever again. I stood there with the packet of food, wondering what to do. After pondering a little, I chucked the food into the trash can cause honestly, I didn’t have the courage to eat food sponsored by a zombie. I bought whatever I had to and walked back to the office. The journey back was thankfully eventless.

So, this was my little tête-à-tête with Zaku, the zombie. The thought still makes me wonder about all that happened.

Adios.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Grayscale's day out...


Two days after he turned a major, Grayscale, the crown prince of the chameleons decided go out into the world outside his royal abode and seek his destiny. Now, royal decisions can seldom be questioned. So against all his reservations, the minister of the chameleon kingdom, Dr. Spectrum, gave in. Princess Lizzy, Prince Grayscale’s beloved was worried and sad that in their already short lifespan, she would have to stay away from him for so long!

For Grayscale however, what was more important was that he came from one of the most reputed families of veiled chameleons and had to live up to his forefathers’ name. So the next day, he set out to explore the world. Princess Lizzy, with a heavy heart, had packed his favourite bugs in a little Tupperware box. She had hunted all day to find those bugs in the crevices and gaps. Now. Prince Grayscale’s palace was in a place that was self sufficient and hence he had never had much interaction with living beings and bugs outside that area.

Hopping from tree to tree and running across the ground, Grayscale reached the busiest part of the city. For a minute, he felt like he was dreaming. Strange monstrous creatures were walking only on their hind legs, there were strange shaped objects zooming by on the roads, there were no trees anywhere in the vicinity and all he could see were towering mountains that he heard the two legged creatures refer to as “buildings”. To begin with he was in awe of all that existed outside his palace, then that awe turned into fear and finally, panic that he was lost and wouldn’t be able to find his way home!
He was hungry and had already gobbled up all the bugs that he had brought along from home. He missed Lizzy and vowed never to leave her behind like that again. But that was for later. He had more important things that needed his attention like finding food and his way home. Food came first and hence he began his hunt. He scaled the buildings, checked every inch of the road and just when he was about to give in to the thought that he would die of starvation, he came across a few dead insects lying around a trash can. Little did he know that they had been killed by insect repellents and hence were not edible. Hunger had clouded his senses, he couldn’t even notice the difference in taste and just lapped them all up. As expected, shortly after that, his tummy started feeling weird. He could feel his stomach growl and realized that an upset digestive system was just around the corner. Just as he stopped for a second on the road to catch his breath, he was almost crushed by one those strange objects zooming past on circular limbs. He had heard the two legged monstrous creatures call them “cars”. The fumes that those objects emitted were toxic that it almost choked Grayscale, who had always been in the midst of nature. Wandering from place to place in an attempt to find his way home, he walked into an office. He could see just one thing all around. Madness. Then suddenly, one two legged creature said something to another two legged creature, within Grayscale’s earshot, about that office being an advertising agency. And then he figured the reason behind the chaos. Now, advertising is not an alien concept, even in the reptile kingdom. There too, they have print ads and television commercials about the companies selling the best packaged bugs, the best properties on tree tops (a human equivalent of a penthouse) and the best skin polishes to keep that scaly skin glistening!

Suddenly, a female two legged creature saw him and shrieked. Grayscale was petrified. Partly by her size, partly by the shrill voice and partly by the decibel level of the scream. He spotted a plant in a transparent container, kept atop a flat structure made out of wood (there were plenty of money plants in the office) so he leapt towards it in the desperation to protect himself. He made it to the tree and started looking around at the surroundings. Slowly, one by one, all the two legged creatures gathered around him as if he was some display piece in a museum! Except for that two legged creature who had screamed on seeing him because that creature had climbed up another flat wooden structure. Then one of creatures who had gathered around him, moved forward and grabbed him before he could escape. But instead of killing him, the creature stroked him and put him in a drawer and shut the drawer. Sitting in the darkness, he thought about his palace, Lizzy, the warnings of Dr. Spectrum and wondered whether he will ever be able to make it back home.

After what seemed an eternity, his captor opened the drawer and put an assortment of dead insects before him. Some of them were his favourites, like the mosquitoes, the beetles and the spiders that had to be eaten extremely carefully because of the high level of toxins. But at that time, he was plain homesick and wanted nothing more than get back to Lizzy, hug her and tell her he was sorry and that he would never leave her like that again. So he moved away from the insect spread and sat down. The creature looked at him for a while and then picked him up. Then the creature started speaking in a strange language and took him out into the porch. That female who had screamed on seeing him the first time, screamed again. His captor took him out into the open air and placed him on the parapet. Grayscale looked around and viola! He saw his palace. He realized that he had taken a full circle. He sprinted to the nearest tree he could find and raced home. There was a renewed energy in him at the thought that he was headed home finally! It had been a day that turned out to be a little too eventful. Prince Grayscale felt he had lived an entire lifetime in just that one day. But he was happy that he had explored so much of the world! Nobody had done it before him. Not that he intended to do it ever again, either.

Finally, he reached home after dodging three huge birds of prey who wanted to eat him up and one dog that wanted to make a yo-yo out of him. The moment he spotted Princess Lizzy, he ran up to her and took her into his arms. Her joy knew no bounds because after this long, he had almost given up hope that she would ever see him again. The kissed, sitting on the highest branch of the tree, under the moonlight and slept under the stars. The very next day, they got married by the chameleon marital laws and lived happily, tail in tail, for the rest of their lives…

This was the story of Prince Grayscale and his day out.

Monday, March 17, 2008

STOP!

हिंदू हो तो हिंदू बने रहो
मुस्लिम हो तो मुस्लमान
पर मज़हब की दौड़ में यह न भूलना
वतन तुम्हारा है हिंदुस्तान

इस मुल्क में पले बढे हो
इसकी लाज नीलाम न करना
किसी मज़हब ने नही सिखाया
बेगुनाह की हत्या करना

जिहादी मुस्लमान बताओ
क्या कभी रहीम ने राम को मारा है?
और कट्टर हिंदू तुम कहो
क्या कभी भगवान् ने अल्लाह को धुत्कारा है?

जब ऊपर्वालों में बैर नही
तो क्यों उनके बन्दे लड़ते हैं?
कुछ लोगों के कहने पे
क्यों आपस में लड़के मरते हैं?

इस हिंसा की आग में कहीं
जल न जाए हिंदुस्तान
झुलस न जाए सारे गुल
बंजर न हो यह गुलिस्तान

सदियों से सब यहीं बसे हैं
बन गए हैं इस वतन की पहचान
बिन मुस्लिम है आधा हिंदू
बिन हिंदू, अधूरा है मुस्लमान

धर्म मज़हब से ऊपर तुम हो
आख़िर एक इंसान
और तुम्हारा वतन येही है
यह है तुम्हारा हिंदुस्तान

(This was written in memory of all those who lost their lives in the Mumbai riots in 1993 and the Godhra carnage in 2002. May their souls rest in peace.)

reasons to blog

A blog. What is it? Is it an online diary? Is it a medium to let out surplus creativity? Is it an attempt at promoting one’s writing skills?

Such questions kept popping up in my mind due to the excessive time I had at hand to kill. For me, it is a little of all of the above but mostly it is a platform to write. Just that. If I have something that comes to my mind and I want to let it out through poetry or prose, I know what to do. People read it. Some may like it and some others may not but when I am putting up a post, that’s not the first thing on my mind. Being a copywriter by profession, I am judged the whole time on the basis of what I write and it is the source of my bread and butter. But when I write my blog, it is for myself. To let out everything that clogs my mind from time to time.

I have come across people who write it for a specific purpose and seek to accomplish something through it. And I have also come across people who’re like me. Little T is one of those. Then there are those who use their blog as a medium to earn a little extra cash. And those who make their blog a personal diary.

Honestly, I know this isn’t one of my best posts and I don’t even know why I am writing this. Maybe because I just felt like it. Anyway, I will not drag it too long. Whatever be the reason, writing serves as an excellent medium to let out everything that’s pent up inside.

So to all those who put up their posts without any particular purpose and without the fear of being judged, welcome to the club. Keep the good work flowing in. that, by the way, reminds me that of all the writers I have come across, little T stand head and shoulders above the rest. Abstract as it may sound sometimes, her posts have a much deeper meaning and she’s an excellent writer. Besides being my constant inspiration, she herself has an amazing ability to put things across rather simply. What can I say, it just one of the many things that make me love her so much. I look forward to reading her posts everyday…

You’re the best, princess. May everything nice happen to you.

Adios.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

confessions and memoirs

Before you start reading this, must tell you that this is an autobiographical account and so it might not make an “interesting read”.

The first crush I had was over a decade ago when I was 13. I don’t even remember her name now. It just faded away in the tides of time. People now tell me that I have a way with women but it is a result of conscious cultivation.

I was never the popular or happening kid in school. Always on the sidelines with very little interaction with girls. It was more cause the girls probably never found me interesting enough. Needless to say, I was always treated as a loser. So I set out to prove a point. When I was 14, I had my first taste of sex. Rather early, I agree but as I said, I had a point to prove. Over the years, things just went haywire…

Women stepped in and out of my life. In college, it was a status symbol. And I must confess that it felt good cause after all, I had worked a lot to reach that stage. All I had done was set out to tell people that I wasn’t a loser and stop. But that stop never happened. It was like the dam had crumbled before gushing waters and there was nothing that could stop it.

But deep inside, I was jealous of those who had true relationships because it only made me aware of how hollow I was. Then I had my first relationship. It was with a childhood friend. It was long distance and she could never manage to have that faith I guess because of the way she had seen talk to women. I tried making things work for a year and it just split. But I was 17 back then I got over it.

Then when I went to Symbiosis, my first intense relationship happened. We had our differences but most times I guess it was buried due to the physical intimacy. When I walked out of Symbiosis and into MICA, it so happened that a senior of that girl, who had asked her out earlier, asked her once again to be with him. She agreed. Simple reason. He had a great job and I didn’t. I felt cheated. I felt like I wasn’t cut out for serious relationships. So I went back to being what I was. For a very simple reason that I thought that was what I was the best at.

Then little T happened to me. I had known her for two years back then and had always related to her completely. We thought alike, we liked the same things, neither of us were over possessive and we had similar values. I mustered all my courage and asked her out, keeping nothing about me hidden from her. She agreed. Things were going great. But then suddenly she decided she didn’t want it. It came as a shock and I was clueless. I will not get into the details because it is only for me and her to know. I was heart broken. Lost faith in things. But somehow, this girl is so special that I haven’t been able to imagine life without her. I haven’t been able to move on and take an interest in other women. I can’t still call her my EX cause from my heart, I still love her beyond everything else. I always. I understand the reason behind her decision and though I think it was a little too early, but I had made a promise to her that I would stand by her through everything, no matter what. And I intend to live upto that promise. In that little time that we were together, she showed me a side of life that I was never aware of! She was...and still is...my strength and an unfaltering support.

I respect her decision but if I really have a way with women, I just hope it works on her. Even if it doesn’t work on other women, I really don’t care. It’s just a hope that she changes her decision and the magic works, just for one last time…on my little princess...

Adios.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The epitaph writer

(Once again…thank you little T for your inspiration)

There was once an epitaph writer. All he did in his torn down shack was carving epitaphs on tombstones. With his earnings, he barely managed two square meals a day but never did he complain. People barely saw much of him since he kept to himself at most times except for when the family of the dead sought his services. He lives in a corner of the cemetery, excommunicated from the world…almost.

But life had not always been like this. He had been a jolly young man. He had dreams, ambitions, and a beautiful woman who made life seem brighter every following day. That woman meant more to him than the breath in his body and for her, if humanly possible; he was ready to challenge even the divine. Their love was stronger than the mountains that encircled their little village and deeper than the fathomless sea that lay beyond those mountains. She was a beautiful damsel with auburn locks running down her shoulders and the eyes that would make the Sun seem like a bleak spot in the sky. Her laughter was like the gurgling brook that ran by his house and he looked forward to meeting her by the banks. She arrived every afternoon and stayed till the Sun sank below the horizon. They laughed together, sitting on the rocks nearby. They held hands and made love under the shade of the apple tree.

Life, though, had different plans. One day, she was diagnosed with an incurable disease. No doctor had ever witnessed such a case before. The epitaph writer was a rich young man. The sole heir to a grand fortune. He left no stone unturned to get her the best treatment. He spared nothing to bring her back from the clutches of death. As every moment passed, his love for her grew stronger, knowing that those were probably their last moments together. And the day she breathed her last, ailing, in his arms, she asked him for just one thing. She asked him to write the epitaph that would be inscribed on her tombstone because she wanted to feel close to him even after she had departed from the world of the mortals. It was her last wish and he, who hadnever denied the smallest of her demands, couldn’t bring himself to dishonour her last wish. So the day they buried her forever, the tombstone on her grave carried an epitaph written by him. In the beginning, he was angry with life. He despised the divine powers for having done this to him but as time wore on, he accepted the occurrence as a decision of destiny. His love for her, he knew, would never wane so he left his mansion and took up residence in the torn down shack in one corner of the cemetery. That way, he thought, he could stay close to her vicariously and through every epitaph he carved, he thought he was sending her the message that though life put them poles apart, in death they would be reunited.

It had been decades since she was dead but his love remained just as strong and when one day, they found him dead in his shack, he had his own epitaph carved on a block of stone. It said, “Here lies the epitaph writer who has finally been united with his princess. Though in death, but united nevertheless.”

reminiscing those days...

Gone are the days when I could stand and stare

The times when I could live without a care

It seems like that blissful era

Has disappeared in the sands of time

The meaning of life has changed over the years

All the seasons filled with joys and tears

Only I have remained in this evolving world

Everything around me, it seems, has vanished

The years of school and college

Those classes teeming with mischievous pupils

Nights of wandering aimlessly

Defying every convention put forth

But now, the tables have turned

Life has become a whirlwind which may carry me

I do not know to which unknown land

Today, life dictates the terms

I stand akin to a mute spectator

Waiting for the reins to be returned to me

So that I can gallop away

To the destination I desire

But such is the irony of destiny

That the more I thrash to rid myself of this quicksand

The more I sink in…

I am still sinking…

Monday, March 10, 2008

Sans you

(To my ubiquitous inspiration)

Answers I seek
To fathomless questions
Lost in the labyrinth of life
I scout for the way out

My curiosity resonates in my mind
Sparing not a second to breathe.
Claustrophobic I feel
Like locked in an attic without a key

My dreams are nothing but
Mere hazy pictures
My reality is nothing save
A surreal experience of existence

I ask God repeatedly
But the divine retort is complete silence
And in that deathly calm
I try hard to hear your voice

You have always held the solutions
To all those queries I have had
In your eyes I see
The infinite ocean come alive

In my darkest hour
Your presence lends light
You’re the silver lining
Around the opaque clouds

In the mirage of life
Only you’re the truth
A truth I want to embrace
And lose myself in

Sunday, March 02, 2008

Pictures




They envelop the barren walls
Looking at me in absolute silence
Reminding me of those moments
That lie etched in my mind

Those are moments they hold
Instants immortalized in time
Bringing alive the days of togetherness
Giving me the hope to live for

They say so much without a word
I can see them speak through your eyes
I can breathe your scent
Through your cascading hair

These little pictures
Form the collage of my life
A life that without you
Seems colourless and dull

So I clean these pictures daily
Don’t want them to get dusty
Cause when you do come back princess
I want to feel like the separation never happened!