tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38636827178387209762024-03-14T10:33:04.339-07:00Life and all that blah..Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-6100752131100681182012-02-12T10:16:00.000-08:002012-02-12T10:18:20.108-08:00Eternal ValentineWhenever someone placed in front of me, the very inevitable topic of destiny,<br />I would dismissively put it aside, reaffirming that it was just not my line of thinking<br /><br />Oh but why does life have its way of thrusting it’s immenseness on me?<br />When I thought all was lost, I started seeing a flicker of hope in the densest forests<br /><br />Having led a life where everything was distinguished as black and white<br />I began venturing into grey areas that just kept on getting darker<br /><br />Trying to find some bread for my soul, I ended up feeding the fear instead<br />Reaching for something higher only ended up speeding my descent into oblivion<br /><br />It took not one, but two attempts to break the vicious cycle I had confined myself to<br />When I was finally free, I decided to restart with a fresh outlook of transparency<br /><br />The burden feeling substantially lighter I decided to delve into deeper questions<br />Why this and why now? Was this is a test I had to endure for eternity?<br />Was this is redemption for my past misgivings or was it just life calling out to me?<br /><br />What this was I could not begin to describe<br />All I knew was that I had found my match<br /><br />The dew to my mornings, the burning flame to my nights<br />I had found the one who completed me, the one who would take me all the way <br /><br />Oh sweet love, let thy mystical spark always be alive<br />The passion that you have reignited, may it never die<br /><br />Because there is one thing if nothing else, that I have realised<br />There is hope for the bitter rest of us<br />There is life beyond despair<br />There is pleasure beyond pain<br /><br />This I have realised alas!<br />And now all I ask of you is, <br /><br />Be mine forever and for always, my eternal valentine<br />And I shall be here just as always…<br /> <br />-Your eternal valentineUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-47085801219720098422011-07-21T00:23:00.001-07:002011-07-21T00:24:45.916-07:00The Chosen OnePieces of Paper bearing my name certify my existence<br />But as I walk down the road won’t they get blown away?<br /><br />A mistaken identity is what I have lived with all this long<br />The charred remains of which I have left behind<br />Belief in the almighty was never my style of song<br />Now I kneel down and look above at the celestial sky<br /><br />A carefree presence with no footprints in the sand<br />Time and again I look at the girl down the lane<br />A reflection which makes me run away in dismay<br /><br />O how I yearn for the past of peaches and creams<br />Will I ever get a new tune that I can sing to the trees?<br /><br />The void in my vessel is but barely fulfilled by thee<br />What I need is a new me, for you and me<br /><br />Chiding you was a lost cause, <br />It was the devil’s workshop that I had begun<br />I will have to lift myself from the fire<br />And not give in to this cruel burning desire<br /><br />Oh why me, I ask again<br />But then I feel why not me<br />I am after all your protégé<br />I am your conquest<br />I am The Chosen OneUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-82736513613419438622011-07-09T09:57:00.000-07:002011-07-09T10:00:17.931-07:00Romancing the devilPlaying with the flames as I walk on hot coals <br />I am romancing the Devil <br />I am calling him to me<br /><br />The creatures of the night flee at his sight<br />The eerie calm running chills down my spine<br /><br />I see sparks streaming across the sky<br />An admonition of sorts that I cannot ignore<br />I plunge further into the darkness, oh I wonder why <br />A pain searing through my chest, going to my core<br /><br />‘Walk on silly child’, I reprimand myself<br />‘You have no place but here to call home’<br /> <br />A sense of no return drifts through me<br />I don’t see him but feel him caressing me<br /><br />I embrace the cold, I embrace the darkness <br />I embrace its curse in utter duress<br />I am romancing the Devil<br />The Devil inside me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-78394515042217668342011-07-05T01:13:00.000-07:002011-07-05T01:18:59.300-07:00My Malay TrystThe magical three- Tall, dark, handsome <br />Got personified by his presence<br />The day I had my Malay Tryst…<br /><br /><br />I was immersed in a contemptuous world of my own<br />Until he woke me to a paradise<br />A light piercing through the shadows of my past<br />His calmness soothing my spirit and mind<br /><br />A glaring voice resonated in my head<br />“Take my hand and let me free your soul<br />Let me take you to a place where the flowers are galore<br />An untamed adventure to the farthest lands<br />Rise sweet girl, rise above yourself”<br /><br />I was possessed, like a child running towards the swing<br />A quest I had etched out on the palm of my hand<br /><br />I was reaching out to the mystery he exuded<br />But all I could see was the twinkle in his eyes<br /><br />A new hope was born, I sprang back to life<br />I had finally found the yin of my yang<br />But just as soon as he had come, he vanished<br />Leaving me pining for the scent of his body<br /><br />My secret guide,my secret life<br />With whom my Malay tryst died.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-37145396032762434252011-06-25T07:04:00.000-07:002011-06-25T07:06:09.875-07:00GlideAs I walk by the familiar place, I stop to think <br />And watch moments pass away in disarray<br /><br />Plagued by the demons of the past and the dread of tomorrow<br />I failingly try to hold on to the sand in my fist<br /><br />Whatever is done cannot be undone<br />And the light at the end of the tunnel is nothing but a speck<br /><br />The feeling of being at home is simply a memory<br />I try to build a bigger and better place for you and me<br /><br />I hear a faint voice beckoning me<br />“The skeletons belong in the closet,<br /> The future is just an illusion.<br /> So don’t leap don’t dive,<br /> Just Glide”Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-17535574907777360862011-06-24T10:16:00.000-07:002011-06-24T10:17:56.325-07:00Second FiddleI wasn’t second fiddle to anybody, yet I got played<br />With no one to fault, it was planned, a self infliction <br /><br />I envy the unknown, the mystical being<br />Conspiring against the enemy, trying to find a purpose<br />Mending my ways towards a place I can find some peace of mind<br /><br />I know not myself, don’t remember the girl of yesteryears<br />Have I reached a different phase or is it just a full circle?<br /><br />I walk around trying to search for my soul<br />Is it something I left back somehow somewhere long ago?<br /><br />And what is this fight for, a noble conquest or simply short sightedness?<br /><br />Maybe this enemy is really just an ally<br />A mask I placed over my own fears<br />A blissfully unaware soul<br /><br />So what am I fighting for and against?<br />I am the enemy<br />I am the conspirator<br />I am the Trojan horseUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-48059694644452606532011-06-24T10:00:00.000-07:002011-06-24T10:04:09.459-07:00ContemplationYou seem to fulfill me, yet there is a void<br />I question not you but to the empty spaces in my room<br /> <br /><br />A chance meeting or so it seemed<br />I search for a pattern in this web called destiny<br /><br /> <br />You seem to illuminate my world, yet there is a blur<br />I tread along paths searching for an answer but none which lead up to you<br /><br /> <br />A secret fling it seemed like, an unspoken arrangement<br />A careless gush of wind, an unrestricted bond<br /><br /> <br />Still an insidious alliance lurks in the shadows<br />An eruption of sorts that will soon show its dreadful face<br /><br /> <br />I drown myself in contemplation, meanwhile.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-31681920693118624652009-09-11T22:25:00.000-07:002009-09-12T04:22:03.949-07:00My french connectionI was 13, a 'teenager' if you want to call it that. I get up one morning and say to my Ricky Martin poster "I have realised something <span style="font-style:italic;">chico</span>. The languages being 'taught' to me in school are not enabling me to decipher this highly complex world. I don't know how to break this to you but I have decided something, I am going to learn French."<br /><br /> After mustering all my courage and draping my only dupatta on the poster, I walk up to this temple hall like place one evening to meet up with this famous french professor I had heard about. <br /><br /> The temple hall was this rundown place which held karate classes in the evening and would moonlight as a french school on school nights. <br /><br /> I stand outside the temple hall. Around me a bunch of fresh-out-of-karate class 8 year olds are arguing with each other. They all look pumped up on sugar.<br /> First brat: I have a blue belt what about you?<br /> Second brat(with arrogance): I have a brown belt<br /> Third brat(with pride): I have a yellow belt<br /> First two brats: eee.. yellow yellow dirty fellow<br /> And they start kicking in the air..<br /><br /> "Enough", I say to myself and enter the temple hall. <br /><br /> I am welcomed with fresh foreign abuses "Sapajou"..."Batarde".. I look around. A tall man in his late forties is yelling at a 15 year old boy. "You rascal.. Why are you staring outside the window again and again? I am correcting your book here and you are more interested in the views of the outside world. Is your girlfriend waiting outside?" The frightened boy replies "No Sir". Sir goes on (ignoring his reply) "Well then ask her to lay out a mattress on the ground and sleep there. You are not getting out of here anytime soon."<br /> <br /> The boy (by now on the verge of collapse): Yes Sir<br /> Sir (just getting warmed up) : Shut up you rascal<br /><br /> And thus began my french connection...<br /><br />It was a roller coaster ride..<br />From getting my education in high level french abuses to watching Sir bang his fist on his desk which also housed a goldfish bowl (the goldfish never survived long enough much to Sir's astonishment)I saw it all.<br /><br />Around 50 teenagers occupied the temple hall taking candle sticks in their hands whenever the power was out and listened to Sir as he gave his own rendition of 'The Last Supper'.<br /><br />I baby sitted his dog, I trained the dog to chase some people around.. and I also learned French..<br /><br />In the end it turned out to be an enriching experience!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-84988492044388993102009-02-22T21:48:00.000-08:002009-02-23T07:11:53.598-08:00Chai Ho!My comments on the slumdog movie have been long overdue. Well I had reconsidered and came to the conclusion that I should save up my abuses for something more worthwhile. Alas..<br /><br />Flashback:<br />Its 10.30 am, Oscar Day (Well night for them of course)<br /> I hear a huge scream parading across my entire society. Being the 'updated' person that I am, I tune in to Star Movies where the Academy Awards was being telecasted. "Best Director-Danny Boyle"...."Best Film-Slumdog Millionaire". Switch Off. Switch on again. What about The Dark Knight?- Two oscars. It was as if they were compensatory awards-a tribute to the departed soul.<br /><br /> I move on to some of the news channels. Amidst all the celebrations I can still sense a feeling of confusion amongst the news reporters. I can imagine one of them thinking "8 oscars? Wow.I didn't even know that slumdog was nominated for so many. I knew we had a shot at Rahman. I mean why wouldn't we. His song 'Jai Ho' had become like an anthem for cheerleaders across the States. Brr...Brr.. I am supposed to be thinking postive things. Slumdog was brilliant. Never witnessed anything like it. I mean look at 'Jai Ho'. Rahman at his best. The lyrics especially 'Jai Ho, Jai ho, jai ho...'Brr.. Brr.. Think positive.. Raindrops and peaches and butterflies and lillies.. La la la la la la la".<br /><br /> Ok so that was my interpretation of their thoughts. It may not be one hundred percent accurate. But I know I was close. One reporter even went to the extent of saying "Don't you feel that Slumdog won because of its mass appeal and not because of its critical brilliance?"<br /><br /> Yeah so to all of you out there who are ready with your truck load of fire crackers and sweets, I know that deep down you didn't find the movie great either. But then you convince yourself by saying that if the people at the Oscars like it, then there must be something about it. So lets join the crowd.<br /><br /> Coz frankly the academy people dont know what they are doing half the time. I mean at a time when a brilliant movie like 'The Sixth Sense' was made, critical acclaim and commercial hit, the Academy people give away the award for best film to a ridiculously dumb movie 'American Beauty'. Why? Because the former was directed by an Indian and the latter by an American. Simliarly for 'Elizabeth' by Shekhar Kapoor and 'Namesake' by Mira Nair.<br /><br /> I have equal hatred for the Oscars in the States and the Filmfare in India. Both are just politically driven pieces of crap.<br /><br /> Personally I have nothing against slumdog. It was a decent movie. But the hype behind it was unjustifiable. We have seen better and made better. If slumdog got 8 oscars, 'Salaam Bombay' deserves 16.<br /><br />I'll end this episode with a few tips.<br /><br /><strong>How to make it big at the Oscars:</strong><br />1) Get a white man to direct or produce or both if you want to make your chances really high.<br />2) Show India in its poorest light. Slums, backward traditions, poverty, the works.<br />3) Get a person as brilliant as Rahman and make him compose catchy tracks like 'Jai Ho', 'Ringa Ringa', 'O Saya'.. In short songs with minimal lyrics so that the people there can comprehend it.<br />4) Release it in the States first, create the hype and then bring it to India.<br />5) Have atleast one Bollywood dance number.<br />6) The movie should be preferably in English and make sure the actors have a thick Indian accent. The way Russel Peters describes it.<br />7) ...<br /><br />I can go on with the list.. But you'll get a hang of it. Jus look outside your windows and breathe in the fresh slum air...MmmmmmmmmUnknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-9214475517596841592009-01-19T07:44:00.000-08:002009-02-04T04:50:17.184-08:00The Thai fundaEyes open<br />It is approximately 7 pm, Mumbai airport (International...hopefully)<br />Me: Why are we here so early?<br />Mom: Because the SOTC guy asked us to come at this time<br />Me: So where is he?<br />Mom: I have no idea. But lets just wait<br /><br />Two hours later still no sign of SOTC guy. Not that I cared. I could handle it myself. I was the porter for 6 odd bags until now. Immigration forms cannot be that heavy.<br />Some formalities later..Eyes shut<br /><br />Eyes open<br />I am walking through what is supposed to be an airport. But all I see are Persian carpets, tiffin boxes, more Persian carpets and lots of elderly people sitting on them. <br />Me: Where are we?<br />Mom: I told u not to drink so much of coffee…you are speaking gibberish<br /><br />Walk, some more walk and a whole lot of wait later…. I see the light...Big white birdie... with purple wings... More purple inside...Alas! Thai Airways- As Smooth as silk<br />Thai Air Hostess: Sawasdee<br />Me: Oh Hi…I need a blanket<br />TAH: (big smile) Uhh.. later.. later<br />Me: No now now<br />TAH: (small smile) Okkk<br /><br />Ahh!! Covered in purple warmth… Eyes shut<br /><br />Eyes open<br />Everybody’s asleep… Hmm....I guess the food’s gone…So how can I kill some time? <br />Options:<br />1. The inflight magazine<br />2. Duty free<br />3. Music<br />4. Big screen movie<br /><br />Option 4: Big screen movie: Nights in Rodanthe<br />Richard Gere and some white chick. I watch…and watch…Ok it is 3 in the night and they aren’t even doing anything. Wait they are doing something. Damn the hurricane... Oh wait they are back together... Damn Gere dies... THE END... Damn... I should have read the magazine.<br /><br /><br />The food’s gone, I was tortured by Richard Gere and the white chick and have lost on sleep. Great! Now the flight lands<br /><br />At the exit:<br />Thai Air Hostess: (big smile) Thank you<br />Me: yeah yeah<br /><br />DON’T ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARDS. IT TOOK ME TWO DAYS TO RECOVER MY LOST SLEEP. THE BLAND THAI FOOD DIDN’T HELP MUCH EITHER. <br /><br />As for Thai airways, I flew with them for another three times in those coming 10 days. I learnt to dress up more warmly, order for only Indian vegetarian and speak minimal English. They loved me so much that they threw in a complimentary Harry potter movie (or so I assumed). All in all it was a good experience! <br /><br />Thai Airways- As smooth as silk wormUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-18161287474294388732007-11-09T05:42:00.000-08:002009-01-19T07:44:22.026-08:00Goa- The Basics<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSsuBGTMYKbfOQ75TW5fWjMzKk6P3zW-OAht9UgtHe1Id3xkmu8M_jE8ttMaaAnGMfwjbCy4bVQF371DDZcjl7_Eku6yxKSu4_UuFTxGO_3usKj7xN1hpvTKzVPxJM_rQj9H-r86peSQ/s1600-h/DSC00150_edited.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSsuBGTMYKbfOQ75TW5fWjMzKk6P3zW-OAht9UgtHe1Id3xkmu8M_jE8ttMaaAnGMfwjbCy4bVQF371DDZcjl7_Eku6yxKSu4_UuFTxGO_3usKj7xN1hpvTKzVPxJM_rQj9H-r86peSQ/s320/DSC00150_edited.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131975410281377250" /></a><br />It isnt a newly discovered place or anything and most travellers think that they have got their Goan basics right.But thats true for a traveller and not a Goan resident. Normally when you think of Goa you think of the beaches, the flea markets, the booze and the nightlife. I thought of that as well before coming to this place. I have been to Goa before but back then I was at an age where I wasnt too excited about the above mentioned things. Now when I am of that age and do look forward to these things I ended up making the trip with my family (by family I mean just my mom).It was a I-wanna-go-there-and-now-no-matter-what thing. I was stressed out of my mind from my work life and it was the Diwali holidays. Being the not so festive family this combination worked well we headed out to Bodiem. Bodiem is a typical Goan village in North Goa (about 20 kms far from Mapusa) where my Mom's close friend stays and where we stayed as well for a short while. <br /> It is really something else drawing knowledge from the locals and basically assimilating into their culture. During our very short stay there I got myself acquainted with many of the village people. My Mom's best friend Mini (that is what she is known as in Goa. Her actual name is Meenakshi) likes to use terms such as 'The Village' and 'The Village People' which is quite funny knowing that many of the house owners are based in big cities and a considerable number of foreigners form part of this 'quaint'(as everyone calls it) village. Well techinally she is right with her usage of such terms and that is how I shall be referring to them as well.<br /> I got my first lesson on Goan basics on our drive from the airport to Bodiem. It was a 1 1/2 hr long drive and that did get me through to level 2 atleast. Mini and her sister-in-law were our teachers. For starters Goans do not pronounce the 'm' in most words. That is why Bodiem is pronounced as 'Bodee-ay' and Panjim is pronounced as 'Pannjee'.If you dont pronounce them as such people will know that you are an outsider. Secondly Goans love bombill. They eat it in all their meals. Thirdly Goans are not extremely proud of their bakeries contrary to popular belief. But they definitely love their patties. And finally foreigners are referred to as 'white people' here. Okay so what if they are referred to as that in many other places in the world? We are talking about Goa here. <br /> So thats all you will get in my Goan basics session otherwise I will have to charge. Once you get these right you are all ready to set off to Goa. Of course you need to know many other things before you actually do that. So go crazy in this crazier place but at the same time do get a taste of the rural side of Goa. Like they say, Its someplace else.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863682717838720976.post-22228226199487174392007-10-29T07:40:00.000-07:002007-11-10T09:02:04.344-08:00Creak-it -The Indian crazeNo matter what you just cant get enough of this game. My affection with the cricket spirit first started when I saw the movie Lagaan. Well obviously it was because of Aamir Khan that I went for the movie in the first place and not the game. I never really knew much about the game before that movie although I do have some distant memories of me sitting in my Granny's house as she watched a bunch of men dressed in white with some white goop smeared across their faces running around on a green ground and thousands of freaks surrounding them and screaming their guts out. Yeah you could guess that I was pretty confused back then. Well coming back to the period when I actually began to understand the madness I would say that this is a game of extremities. One second you are jamming the streets of Mumbai all the way from the airport to Wankhede stadium just to get a glimpse of the T20 champions and the next second you are burning effigies on the streets of these beloved cricket stars.<br /><br /> I remember the day of the Australia v/s India semi finals in the Twenty-twenty world cup. Everyone I spoke to that day was like "Oh its Australia man. Like that's impossible dude. Maybe if it were another team you know then we could have gone to the finals and played against Pakistan. Yeah that would have been cool. Like totally." After hearing so much of demotivating crap I sat to watch the match and my Mum was in the background saying "Arre you are really wasting your time. Go study for Bcom. That will make your life more meaningful." I told her off for bugging me which did upset her a little but nevertheless I saw her occasionally catching a few glimpses of the action.<br /><br /> Well destiny was in our favor and before anybody could digest what was happening we had won the world cup. Woohoo. And the Indian crickters became the glorified Gods once again. Companies were dying to woo these charming youngsters to promote their products. Page 3 was buzzing with news of alleged link-ups. I read this column inviting comments from celebs on Dhoni's bare actions post the victory in Johannesburg. Many women and even some men were like "Oo Mahi should really work on his abs". Give the guy a break. I thought that it was a very spur-of-the-moment thing and it really creates a sweet memory. He's a cricketer and not a plastic idol.<br /> Well, enough of me drooling over shirtless Dhoni. Coming back to the sport.... The world cup momentum was just subsiding when the India-Australia series began. We even got our older and experienced players on to the field and India felt more confident then ever. Mahi made a comment after winning the World Cup which I just remembered, (for those of you who are confused as to the lack of connectivity in this blog, I wrote it so boohoo) "This victory was repair work for the dismal exit of India from the World cup in West Indies." Repair work yes but not for long. The Aussies showed their aggressive side once again and beat us at most of the matches that were played. During this drama my boss who rarely talks about anything else but work couldn't help himself. He said "Only India is capable of winning back-to-back and then losing back-to-back."<br /><br /> The Indian fans were disappointed and the blame game started once again. Fearing contempt the Indian team had no option but to charge up all their energy and beat the Aussies at two matches. This made the already enthusiastic fans more enthusiastic and instances of racism and brash talk against the Aussies started. If any of you think that I'm siding the Australians that's not true. I'm just writing whatever I can remember from all the commotion that happened. The icing on the cake for the Indians was the T20 win which proved that the Indian cricket team was simply unbeatable in the 20 over format.<br /><br /> All's well that ends well. Dhoni's love life blossomed in the finale, Gambhir got a car, Sreesanth is going down South and as for me (not that anyone's asking) I'm just waiting for the India-Pakistan series to begin(God bless the Future Group) so that I can write more crap for you.<br /><br /> I will end this with what our Vice-Captain Yuvraj Singh (unfortunately not the captain according to his father) said in a recent interview "We cannot get overconfident after this series. Because if you look back at it, when India won it was always a close call between the two but whenever Australia won, it was a distant goal to be achieved"<br /><br /> So what if I modified some of his words. The thoughts are the same. Remember what Yuvi (the six sixes hitter and one crore getter) said!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0