Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Cancer.

Spread across the vast woods, lay his scattered skeleton. The more they tried to limit it's spread, the more it penetrated slowly outwards; and with it spread the woods, unconquerable and all encompassing.
The village elders held their meeting. This spread is alarming. The woods have already encroached most of their farmland. Now it is headed towards their home, in a terrifying pace. The knew his vengeance; they knew the solution too. But, none of them uttered a word. 
The village elder stood up. With amazing nonchalance he took out his knife and slashed his own throat. Rest of the elders carried his still warm body to the edge of the woods. They buried him next to the last tree and by the next morning all the trees next to the edge had already started wilting.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Amnesia.

Tony was walking down the lane next to the post-office. Winding turning climbing falling. He was worried that he has forgotten something - something really important. He was still worried, while he was waiting for the taxi. He got the front row in the taxi - he was still forlorn and worried. He was thinking about that which he has forgotten. He was almost a zombie throughout the dinner. He went to his room and lay down on the bed, still worried. He did not remember falling asleep. He woke up the next morning with a bitter feeling that he has forgotten something. He brushed his teeth, ate his breakfast - trying to pick his brain to find out that which he has forgotten. He started walking down the lane next to the post-office. Winding turning climbing falling. He was worried that he has forgotten something - something really important.

The Crystal Sandal

Against all the odds, Cinderella won the prince's hand in the ball. The magic played tricks on her; stepmothers plotted against her; stepsisters hated her. In the end, she got the prince, for good.
She sat looking forward to the night and the consummation of their marriage. Prince came in, sat next to her and told her - "I love you more than anything. You are like a little sister to me. And yeah, I am gay."

Monday, November 12, 2012

Cui Bono.

We all have our existential crises and doubts. We all should have them at one point of time. Here or there? Or where?
Most of us had a cushioned past - the details were made out for us by someone else. We just need to step on to the train. Our life, education and career so far has been just hiking on someone else's shoulders. Then it hits you - and hits you hard. We are here and we are wondering if this is a rut that we are stuck in. We think hard. We aren't content with the glass and the water it contains. We are hungry but we aren't hungry enough. We are fools but not foolish enough.
We read about others who are better than us. We read about their adventures. But, we don't read about their failures. We don't notice the thousands of throws which didn't end up in the hoop but we are amazed and enticed by the beauty of the ones which did end up perfectly. We dream of perfection, but we don't strive for it. We blame the system but we forget the fact that it wasn't meant to be fair. It was meant to be causal. We forget the fact that the only rule in the universe is causality. The cruel and impartial rule of cause and effect. So perfect, yet so simple.

Reminds me of this quote from the Scoresese movie The Departed:

Ellerby: Cui Bono, who benefits?
Colin Sullivan
: Cui gives a shit. It's got a freakin' bow on it.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Ready to marry. Made to specs. 20% discount.

I have been seeing a lot of talk/discussion and all those creepy stuff about marriage, especially from the ladies. About the fact that how 'mallu' guys are when they are looking out for marriage; how pathetic they are; how they over-react; how big hypocrites they are - all those very important and exceedingly accurate things, as these lady friends see. This is not a post supporting the guys; this is not a retort from the rest of unmarried males. However, what this is, is a vague (and I'm sure vain) attempt at trying to find out why this is happening.
First of all, let me start with the fact (which might be a little tough to comprehend) that all men are not assholes. Hey  there, your dad is a member of the male fraternity too, isn't he? But I do agree that there are lots of asses out there who are, well asses. But the fact about asses is that it's all about presentation; see an ass is an ass is an ass. But you cover them up with nice clothing, show a bit hide a bit - and it becomes something to die for. Of course, me being a male chauvinistic asshole, I couldn't come up with a better analogy. But then I do believe its a good analogy, my point here being - what might look like Christmas might really be Halloween.
As for the guys asking this and that - honestly I don't understand that. Trust me, I have seen guys who were perfectly honorable and reasonable turn into proper assholes when the case of matrimony starts. (And I know people who are not assholes having a tough time finding a girl, and other people making a lot of off-hand comments about them. And if you are one of those people who makes all those snide remarks, then, Fuck you - till thy kingdom come).
I digress - the fact I was trying to put forward here is that, there are very reasonable people who suddenly flip when a search for a lady commences. And I, for the life of me, can't comprehend how. Then there is an urban legend that these reasonable people are taken to this place - not quite sure where exactly - a quaint little restaurant or maybe a shady alley and hit with a large stone (or a plasma gun which alters your personality, who knows) which  makes them bonkers and matri-ready, to be dished out in plastic boxes with all those bubble wraps by various .com sites. That's one hypothesis; there are many.
Then there is this thing which was earlier called happily ever after; now its called 'Blah'.

P.S. :- There is another theory that after marriage people go into a parallel universe inhabited only by married people. Not really sure of that either. I haven't got the entry pass yet - seems like it's a 'Couples only' joint :D

Thursday, October 25, 2012

(can't think of any appropriate title)

I saw a dog die today - a stray puppy, barely couple of months old. I was walking by to get a cup of tea. I saw this litter of 3-4 of them playing on the road. I remember thinking this could be dangerous for them. While walking back, after a few minutes I find one of them lying in the middle of the road, apparently hit by a vehicle, bleeding, dying. I didn't know what to do, but thought I should pick it up and put it by the sidewalk. There wasn't much blood, but I guess it broke it's neck. I took it and kept it by the sidewalk. I went and bought a bottle of water, but I somehow knew it would be dead by the time I was back. I was back and the puppy was dead (and warm). The mommy dog just came by and sniffed it; the rest of the litter were still playing around.
(Back then I was feeling so totally detached and unemotional about it. But now I feel strangely melancholic. Two months old maybe? Blah! Chicken we eat is barely a month old, aye?)

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Coward!

Rather not - but for how long! When I read about wanderlust and the deeds of the wonderfully travelled gentlemen and ladies, I truly feel restrained; caged in my own comforts and yet secretly yearning to wander.
And then I snap out and say - Blah! There is no better word for me.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Rain Romance and lost Hopes.

Watching Thoovanathumbikal. How beautiful it would be if it starts raining when you start thinking about somebody! Rain, romance and lost hopes.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Fantasy.

Do you know what could be more fantastic than saying that you are familiar to all the nook and cranny of this city, but a stranger to most other?  It is to tell that you are neither familiar with nor a stranger to this city and many many other cities.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Free.

Sometimes you gotta let go of things. Sometimes you gotta leave small comforts of life. These somethings might be a permanent roof, the comfort of a salary; even that lovely meal in a cozy restaurant. I remember a whole month when I used to go absolute mad for a few Parle G biscuits; for a simple thing as a fried banana; an evening movie in a cinema hall; some nice sleep! But now when I retrospect, those thirty days make one hell of a beautiful month!

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The best slice of the mango.

There is something strangely mystic about mango trees. Before you completely laugh me off, let me tell you that it is totally a personal feeling. For me, the tree which should be in my backyard should be a mango tree. The tree which should cast a shadow on my balcony should be a mango tree. And after a rain, when I occasionally clean my terrace, the leaves I should sweep out should be of a mango tree. It has nothing to do with the heavenly fruits that grow on them. It has nothing to do with the sweet smell a mango tree in full bloom evokes. Mango trees for me has nothing to do with sweet and shine. It has to do with the shade, the shadows and the feeling of lost love and lovers who ignored me and the lovers I have ignored. It has to do with loss, it has to do with nostalgia, it has to do with Hemingway, it has to do with the alleys that are always dark even in the noon sun, it has to do with all that is there to be taken and yet not taken.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Think damp.

Rain makes you think. And I have been thinking, for thinking's sake. What is it that would make me happy? Like, really happy? That would be one for a list, of course; and the list changes with time. There has always been one thing which has featured prominently and almost perpetually in that list - travel. Recently, I read an article which threw an idea in to me - Think hard, what was it that I wanted to do when I was 12 or 13 years of age? How much of it is feasible/legal now? Maybe I should wrack my brain and find an answer to that question; maybe that would answer most of my other questions.

Of forks in the road and not finding them.

They say everything comes with a price; they say everything happens for a reason - that everything is relative. But, is it really so? The choices exist only in the minds of the confused. For the ones who truly know what they want, everything is absolute. There are no choices. There is no need for a choice. The fork in the road does not exist for them. For, when they pounce upon the road, they never see any forks; they move ahead through the one and only path that exists before them. A vagabond seldom needs a map; neither does he bother about the signboards.

I started reading this book 'Chasing the monsoon' by Alexander Frater. The author travels with and along the path of the monsoon, in the Indian sub-continent; sometimes ahead, sometimes with and sometimes behind it. To embark on such a journey one must not just love the rains, one must truly belong to the rains.

As long as I remain confused, I will never be able to find the path. I will have to look for signboards. I will have to read the maps. I will have to follow. I shall never tread the absolute. I shall never be complete.

A Man, must not do what he must do; rather a Man must do what he wants to do.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Crash and Burn

There was a tall and fit one. There was another tall and fat one. And then there was a lean mean and obscene one. It was friday and they were coming back home after the school. They were pedalling hard, their bicycles and talking about some exam which they have to come and write on Saturday.The exam was not a compulsory one, yet somehow most of the students are writing it.
There is this small downhill path, then a valley and then an uphill on their way back home. The three of them decide to race without pedalling, balancing their weight forward, in the downhill route. One would think that the tall and fat one would easily be the first, given his weight. But when you are racing without pedalling, in a downhill path, it's the position of the rider that is most important; and also late braking. The latter being very tricky, since the downhill path curves down a bit and the braking has to be perfectly timed or else; well, that's what comes next in the story.
So the lean, mean and obscene one was waiting for the right moment to brake and little did he know that the right moment has already past. It didn't take him much to know that though. Crash and burn is what reminded him swiftly of the mistake.
He fell down the hill, like the stupid Jack and his bike came tumbling behind, like the stupid Jill. What happened next was all hazy. All the lean, mean and obscene one could remember was that he went to the house next to the valley to wash his face. His bike was in need of some serious repair. The three of them started pushing their bikes back home.
The next memory he has is being almost near his home. Whatever pushing shoving talking swearing has all been lost to him. And he tells his friends that 'Hey, I think I have lost my memory temporarily.' To which his friends respond that - 'Dude, you are telling this for the umpteenth time and we hope you get back what you have temporarily lost.'
It's been almost twelve years and he hasn't got back what he had lost temporarily. He still tries to remember (and fails inevitably) what had happened or the scenes in between the crash site and his home.

P.S.:- His friends also say that he recited all their phone-numbers, his registration number for the next day's exam, his date of birth and all kind of stuff in his attempt to prove that he hasn't had a total amnesia. But he denies all of that, still.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Heads it is!



More often, than not, these days, I tend to think a lot about my present point in life. I retrospect and see the last 3 to 4 years to have changed me a lot, as a person. Having said that, it is also true that I have remained in the same position mostly, to a point where I find myself lagging behind all my friends, who all started their careers with me. Many have moved up the ladder; many moved out of the country; many even left this career for another which satiates their soul more. Makes me wonder, why am I still stuck in this rut (that's a bit extreme, but right now I am in an extreme mood).

I know I am not stupid, I won't be boasting if I say I am quite intelligent too and for the things I am passionate about and have conviction, I really come out well above par. The problem, I believe, with me is that I tend to be complacent too soon, which isn't really good a thing.

I digress, so what is this current point of my life? This is the point where most of my friends, with whom I can relate to, are getting married. And they are getting married the Indian way, letting the family find a girl for them. A very dear friend of mine, with whom I can totally relate to (in his own words, we are two people who don't meet or talk frequently like thick friends, but can easily start the conversation from where we left off - which would have been like after 3 4 months) is getting married, and he found a girl the Indian way :)

I don't believe in destiny when it comes to relationships - the belief that there is a girl/boy for everyone somewhere blah-shit. Hell, I don't even believe in Destiny. For me, Destiny is a blind guy with the Cosmic log chained to his hand (er... Sandman porn, My bad!).
The point here being I feel stuck in the deepest ruts I have ever found, in all ways, personally, professionally and every fucking-ly!
I know I'll snap out of it - every one does.

Me and my friends recently moved to a new place, since our earlier landlord was selling the one which were staying. It must have fetched him 1.5 to 2 Crores of rupees for that house. He works in the software industry too, a manager or someone senior - 11 to 12 years of experience. I am quite sure he doesn't come from a filthy rich family - his dad used to be an engineer, old timer. Upper middle class family - must have bought the land back when Bangalore real estate was cheaper. Now he is a Crore-pathi. He hasn't done anything radical or extremely risky, but the timing was good and he was rewarded by a sniff of nice luck and chance.

Conversely, a couple of my friends stay in a rented apartment, and they say their landlord owns 45 flats in their apartment complex itself. He seems to be a young guy - late twenties or early thirties, I have been told. He comes from a community well known for their exploits in the real estate business. His dad must have taken a big risk, a calculated risk nevertheless, and has been rewarded, well and fair enough.

So one either need be lucky or be ready to take risks, isn't it? And since I don't expect lady luck to be rapping on my doors any time soon, it has to be the other way round for me, I reckon. And I am in a rather feisty mood to do something stupid, lately. I am sure the view down from the cliff will be much better than the view from the gutter, at least.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Raju and Radha.

All the time, while I was busy growing up reading Balarama and all the similar comics, I was of the idea that Raju and Radha were siblings. The fact that they don't show them in a house together with their folks wasn't enough for me. They were indeed siblings, all right? Even their names rhyme. I know Raju and Radha would never grow up, but if the unspeakable happen and they do grow up, I am sure now that they won't be shown together when Raju family and Radha family come together for weekend get-togethers with their respective families, but Raju with a mustache and glasses, starting to office and Radha coming and giving him his handkerchief, or perhaps even a goodbye kiss.
Maybe I should write a story about them, all right?

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Morpheus.

Started reading Sandman again - took up from where I left earlier. Morpheus, Master of Dreams. What a power now that would be - to control each and every dream of each and every living individual; manipulate him/her using his/her dreams! I wonder! I wonder all that could be; even that this could be a very long long dream. 

The Wrong Brother.

The initial idea was to jump off the window and start flapping the wings and maneuver away into the oblivion. But he felt that the trees were a bit tricky and calculations always ended uncertain. He did not want a speck of uncertainty anywhere. That's when he decided to use the tree itself as the solution. That fateful day he climbed up the tree and jumped off it wearing the wings and fell down and died flapping his wings on the ground. 
Mr.X, avid collector, art connoisseur and the da Vinci expert in the Town Council, died in a freak accident, falling of the balcony, his manager announced to the press. No one, including the press, was allowed inside the house. His relatives were unavailable for comment.  

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Deception.

Senses are deceptive they say. What about thoughts? Aren't they deceptive too? If one can't trust one's own senses, what more can anyone say of thoughts? So if thoughts and senses are both prone to deception, how would anyone know which one is deceptive? Or if both are deceptive? Or now the even lesser chance that both are trustworthy?

Sunday, April 1, 2012

I finished watching my first John Abraham movie. No, it's not of the handsome hunk who acts in the Bollywood movies, it's this late Malayalam director, who has way less muscles and way more beard. He has directed only 4 movies, all written by himself. The one I watched is 'Amma Ariyan'
The gist of the movie is the story of our protagonist Purushan, who on his way to meet his friend, before leaving to Delhi, chances upon the body of a person who had just recently committed suicide. He doesn't know who it is, but wanted to find who it is and tell his mother about his son's fate.
I have been hearing about John Abraham, for quite a while. His legend status, his mystique. The bearded nomad who came into the Malayalam movie scene, started the first independent cinema movement, directed just four movies and then passed on. His acts were blasphemy for the established directors and producers. Four movies - two national awards (one for best movie and one a special jury award) - one movie was enough to get me hooked. One down, three more to go.
John the saint, the legend, the 'Ottayan' of Malayalam movie, lives on.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Of Romance, Hemingway and Padmarajan.


Somehow the thought of romance came up today and I ended up defining romance, for me. And I think romance, for me is wanting; wanting more out of everything - out of life, out of time.


Letting go, wanting the next step in everything, to expect a turn in the road, and not knowing what lies ahead AND wanting to know it;
and going ahead to know it; its that feeling, its the same with love, sex, reading a book, going to a strange place - anything that can capture my mind.
Calling it a thrill would make it sound cheap. It's that feeling that one cannot put into words.
It's also that feeling of letting one thing go to get another; like sleeping the night to wake up fresh; leaving a city for another.
It's that continuous need to move, to evolve, to be infinite.
Thats romance for me - and inherently it's impossible to achieve; like finding a corner of a circle; like finding infinity.
If someone asks me to name one romantic book which I loved - I would say "For whom the bell tolls" by Hemingway. No, it doesn't have a happily ever after.
As for a romantic movie - that would be "Namukku Parkkan Munthirithoppukal" by Padmarajan. Now, that one has a happily ever after.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Vestibule.


At times you bleed,
like a thorn kissed by a finger;
like the knife dipped in ink.
At times you bleed,
like a heart fit for surrender.
Your mind is a shallow pit,
inconspicuous,
yet,
many a thought has tripped over you.
At times you bleed,
like you have always been bleeding.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Dreams.


They came for his dreams that night. He tried to be inconspicuous but they got through his defense. His eyes flashed for a second and then they were gone. And they left him - like a boat anchored in the middle of the sea, with no compass and no wind on its sail.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Pinafore.


That day, she wore a beautiful dress to the church, with red floral patterns. Everyone stared at her; it was not because she was stunningly beautiful, but because it was the first time anyone saw her in anything other than a pinafore dress; and she was sixty three years of age.
Maggie was so happy that day, Mama bought her a new frock. Needless to say, little Angela was furious, she still got her pinafore dress. Mama said - “Angie, you will also get a nice frock from Mama, when you turn sixteen too.”
However, Maggie’s happiness didn’t last much long, they found her body near the woods and she had been brutally raped. Everyone knew who did it, but he was untouchable.
Forty nine years later Angie wore her first frock to the church - for the funeral of the richest and most hated man in town.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Sulphur


How can they do that? How can they destroy an old house to build a newer one, which they think is gonna be better than the old one? How can they be so foolishly ignorant? How can they answer to the pull of nostalgia years later? How can they ever bring down a house only to raise a hoard of bitter sweet memories that is gonna haunt them years down the lane?

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Condoms.


All the little babies in the town once decided to go on strike. No more tantrums, no more giggles, no more of those cute baby things. That’s when they invented condoms.

Abracadabra.


Stuck inside a magician’s hat, once lived a little white bunny. All the kids loved him, but he hated it in there. IT was a clumsy place, but what he hated most was that he had to co-exist with a dozen doves, couple of thorny rose bushes and an egg or two among many other knick-knacks. He wanted to be surprised, like those kids were when they saw him. He wanted to run into those lovely looking bushes. He wanted to breathe fresh air.
He waited for his chance to escape. He was very patient and one day he escaped.
And off he ran and ran and ran. Then suddenly an even bigger hand picked him up - and he found himself slowly being raised out of an even bigger hat.