year of Pritam

AWAARAPAN	To phir aao
	Tera mera rishta
	Mahiya
BHUL BHULAIYA	Labon ko
	Title track
DARLING	Saathiya
GOAL	Billo rani
JAB WE MET	Aao Milo Chalo
	Mauja Hi Mauja
	Tumse Hi
	Yeh Ishq Haaye
JUST MARRIED	Gudgudee
KYA LOVE STORY HAI	Gumsum Hai Dil Mera
	It's Rocking
NAQAAB	Ek din teri raahon
RAQEEB	Jaane kaise
METRO	Alvida
	Baatein Kuchh Ankahee
	In Dinon
	O Meri Jaan
	Rishtey

premonitions

i write this as i listen to songs;

so this one has to be lyrical [:P]


"moments long gone, never leave me.
of us, the rain, and the coolest things around.

of simple sounds like the wind and the whistle.
of sweet breaks from the laughter marathons.

when feelings of the gut couldn't make it to the head.
when all that mattered was chocolate, cricket and sunday."


achcha ye suno ab:


achaar ka tel aloo ke chokhe mein daal ke raat ki roti ke saath khaana
nayi pencil sharpner mein daal ke kaafi der tak ghumaana

aisa kuch bachche jaisa karne ka aaj bhi mann to hota hai par kya karein; jeena bhi to hai .[:)]

RE:writing the year '07

It was too much to keep to myself, so I chose to blog.
its always been a pleasure letting others know;
a weak cause, but strong content. [:P]

lets just breeze through the months and pick:
a thought, a day, an event, a something that stayed till today [:)]


jan : All I remember is,
JLL wale batchmates, GKK wales, and Rames
the new bed in my room at azad, kgp;
the walk in the fog to eggies;

feb : Council of Archituktuk[:P]
Frappachino at Nescafe
14th ; the rose at billoos and the drunk santra [:)]
the weeks without a bath

mar : bankruptcy
holi, juniors, the cheddis
dept. of A&RP; the key #17
the taxi trips to kolkata @ Rs. 300-1200 a day

april : fear of leaving,
the purdue news, the stanford news
the start of an end at the shot of love
the final endsems; the final early morning chai; the way that girl looked at us( immu nd
me) on our bike trip to the cheddis

may: the night when i cried making the video
the next night when they sang and said goodbye
the night i had alcohol and danced at orkos, the last dance with us
my last chance to be close to her, and she looked beautiful @ harrys, awesome on the
pulsar and gorgeous @ swagat [:P]
the bbyes
the uncertainity
the udhaaari
hasita, park, tsc, odomos

june: ghar, kgp, ghar, kolkata
the fights with dad coz he didnt have the money and i didn't have a job
the visa
the bank


july: the bank
nari @ himadri's
........
mitro @ kolkata, achcha aadmi hai

aug: i went to delhi to catch the flight, had no money for tuition fees, as if sala kismat pe kutte ne moot diya tha, sachin came, we had beer, i waited. Suddenly, things cleared out, papa and mummy came and i had the money..it always come down to fucking money in His fucking world, so i hate it and i want to wait for the day when i burn a hundred dollar bill to light my cigar in my fucking huge library
I came to purdue
God came back to life, i got a life; and some money to start with

sep: i started missing people, things, even open windows
i realized she had gone by now
the bus, the lake and the amrikan accent

oct : padhai likhai, friends online, music offline
rumi, sachin, nari, immu, hasita, venky
the beer called Heineken

nov: padhai likhai
the Maria in my office who picked me in her car [:P] she will be back for the new yr bash
the weeks when i forgot everything about everyone and went to college everyday, came
back, cooked, worked on assignments, did everything that deserves no more than what i
have written

dec: exams,
exams over,
jab we met,
kittu di,
snow, sun, ice,
its fucking cold out here
i am bored
help me out
ek dhang ka indian ladka ya ladki dilaa do agle ek saal ke liye yahan..kaam chalaa lenge[:P]

thats it....................................................
i'm done with this yr

are YOU ?


next blog: new yr premonitions

on trying to make a comeback

to what?

myself: having so much yet missing the essentials, being sad, thoughtful, retrospective and everything else of that kind

my songs: feelings of bereavement, pain, fate and love, listening to them so many times that the songs take over, make me sad, sometimes cry. why make them so powerful!

my blog: letting out feelings? or making them and then faking them through words which do nothing but always tell the reader that i am a narcissist.

she is right; all answers that are preceded by a pause, are followed by silence, coz they have nothing worthwhile in them.

i used my share of the pause, and now I don't want to answer, don't want to come back.
So don't even try asking me a question, i will run away instead, like always.

on not writing

Coz



I AM tooo BUSY to feel & write what i feel

on what it takes to be just happy.

items of happiness

beer
girls
aliens on xbox
smoking pot
sexy girls
music
lap-dance
bike
pizza
fridays
birthday
phone calls
work
sleep
movies
neighbors
shops
birds
rain
the moon
solitude
fuck words
bathtub
fights
big tv
small tv
barbecue
india
cricket
photographs
chats
bus
jeans
credit card
US of A

All of them are at arms reach.
All but one.
A HUG.
thats all i need
to be just happy.

songs for now: saawariya
the story of saawariya is based on a short story -White Nights. do read this one. its beautiful!

on a BREAK

i

need

a



B R E A K

on wasted words

note: this blog is recommended for the fellow archi-kgpians , to take a break from the lazy midsem nights.




analyze this:

going thru ur album makes me feel
u r a
narcissist
everyone else on orkut is
but u r a dandy, a metro-sexual living in KGP
dont take the last one as a complement



& this:

know sweet heart.....i totally am a narcissist. and am going public. i would acknowledge a testi from from u ripping me apart. :P

a metrosexual.....that i still am trying to, no drive for it in such a place.

and am a foookin archi :P Hahahahha.... but i really am confused how far i hv to go this way.....





take a break............................



dodge this:

until u r outta of kgp
until you become unorgasmic when it comes to colors and aesthetics and architecture
until you come to know the whole world is run by Excel and owned by Microsoft
and that all we r is monkeys
some are rich monkeys with more bananas
so they try ridiculously diff things
and end up being nothing more than monkeys


& this:

cho chaad, and u thot ppl were thinking otherwis about u.

u neednt say we already know what a monkey u r

and so am i...but sad part u aint ne whr close to my league......way below...........hahahahahahaha





don't think for a while..................................



the final blow:

ur league?
u mean the grp that wanders about
fookin, licking and eating lices from each others hairs

i belong to the league whr
every monkey has a pc
and a car
and believe me everyday is so much fun
coz even if u show u r intelligent and all
u end up missing the peepot and wet the carpet
but does not give up on using either



& the slam:

my league......which wanders about hooking up with ne femme, we wish too.

instead of running from continent to continent and still ending up just licking desi lices. that too whos knows from which part of the body.

instead of bull shitting.....ooops monkey pottying all day before a loaned pc and carpooling with some more potheads.


who wins the conversation?

I.........................

COZ' I OWN THIS BLOG.

on the strange...something

No
It wasn't nostalgia. Neither was it solitude. or any particular feeling, for that matter.
It was just a s t r a n g e something that crawled under my skin and reached my head.

it happened today, this evening.
and it sure was something.
It was cold and dark and awfully silent.
I felt like I was nowhere

it was Jason's house i stood in front of.
but i could see many more in the neighborhood
with children in some
& the old in few
and televisions running some shows in the rest.

I felt like being a part of
a slow life

a quiet dream

like home sweet home

then a cat mewed, a dog barked, a squirrel ran past my legs

Jason took some time to come out
with him came the whiff of air that carried the smell that his house has
just like my home
but it didn't make me miss home

Rather,
it made me feel as if i knew this would happen to me,
a deja vu.

and then we went out and ate at some place like a normal Saturday.

but I liked the strange something that went into my head while I stood there in front of Jason's house today.
the smell, the silence & the sight
of nothing in particular
that tickled my senses
& filled my head
with the strange something.

on making the two worlds meet

like the two sides of black hole
like the two bread slices with cream
like the grounded mind & flying soul
like what it was till now and what it had never been

i make the two worlds meet


i push the earphones into my ears
& care no more
coz i make the two worlds meet

i like it today
i can completely forget tomorrow(its a saturday)
and sing along:

wo bheege pal

and you know what: they have all the windows open today at my place this evening.

on a restless thursday

i had always thought of an alternate universe as an old and repeated concept.
But the whole idea now seems new again
coz i think i have started spending a couple of hours living in it everyday.

these hours include the ones i spent talking (to sachin, rumi,friends, her & ghar)
and the hours i keep thinking about what i said and what they said and what was it all about.

the rest of it are the few hours spent with music

well!
the fact that all of my alternate universe is voices,
makes me define my universe as a black hole
and since black holes always lead to the other side
it takes me back to the real world,
the one that has days and nights, where you breathe & smell.

coming backto it makes me restless
just like today,
on a thursday

.....a pic every week from now on

and this one too

Tere Sawaalon ke wo jawab

on giving up

I G I V E U P.

COZ' IT'S OFTEN THE EASIEST OF THINGS TO DO.

((varun kishore))


the song this week:
Woh Bheege Pal

on nothing in particular

Hi all! "How's you doing today? You seem to have had a great weekend didn't you. Mine was not too bad. Hey don't forget to pass by tomorrow for the free pizza at noon. Cya around!"

a literary exhibit of the average good samaritan. They are always good and I have to play nice, always nice, coz only then I can be one of them.

I see good people at so many places. I see them

@ walmart
@ office
@ bus stop
@ Mc D
@ peepot (the guy peeing next to me always smiles. Why cant he mind his own small business at the peepot.

Hadn't my life been limited to only these places, they would have been everywhere, standing there with the ever so good smile, pissing me off. I know its not a bad thing to expect from a stranger,
but its strange.

And the best part is that if I dont respond exactly the way they do it, they think I am not a good man, they have discontent in their eyes, I can see that for sure.
Or they might think......just an Indian, new to the place.

What they are to me, is not real,
Just a smile, a seal.
To be true, they can't dare.
Why can't they be what they really are.

So I get back to my world, rather my universe(I call it my universe to make it sound large and interesting and thought provoking), back to the voices, back to me.

....on feeling good at 6

Let me give you a bit of the history attached with the story, before the story itself. What I feel now is happiness in some way, but it ain't exactly that. I should say I am into emotions, good emotions, so much so as to write about it.

Yesterday, It all started with a knock on my door. It was 6 am then. I had completely forgotten I had to go to a site visit to assist a fellow research assistant. So, I end up sitting next to him in the car in the next 5 minues (i missed on some of the morning essentials though[:P]) & after a while I fall asleep again, trapped in the seat belt.
The next 5 hrs are spent installing cameras, taking readings, photographs, talking to truck drivers & to my fellow researcher. He asks me if I have/had a girlfriend, coz he misses his, who he thinks has now moved on with someone else. The loading bay(our site) left me dirty, tired and just the bit ready for the trip back to the university for classes.

Classes from 12 am to 7 pm(its one of my busiest class schedules this week), with a few intermittent breaks, enough for a snack or two & then the desperate walk/run for the bus. On the bus, as usual, I see faces, a retarded guy talking funny to girls, houses made of wood, the green lake on 52 & the sky still lighted.
By the time, I reach my apartment, all that is on my mind is food. Luckily I had some left from yesterday. When done with eating, I sit on my chair, turn my computer on and ..........
i don't remember what happened next, coz i slept. Sometime in the night I dragged myself to the bed. I drooled(I know that for sure).

At 5 this morning, an hr & a half ago, I woke up, coz I was thirsty like hell.
At 5:05, I check my computer and I see her message: " hey

u thr??

are u thr??

or sleeping??"
It comes to me like a flash of light, I dreamt of her last night. The next half hr. its me, her[actually its just her voice :( ] & the voice lag that keeps interrupting the normal course of talk. She has been doing a lot of work this week, had been busy like hell, was very tired to go to work today & she missed me for all the obvious reasons( I know everyone of them)
Its 5:35, when we are done. I chance to see a few missed calls on my cell, its dad from last night. What a timing.
But I call Mom. She is happy today, not crying like usual on the phone. She talks about family, friends, foes[:P], funny things happening with Dad.....I talk about how busy I was, how I managed to cook something, some culinary tips from her. And I end up saying I miss you & I make her cry before saying bye.(God! I hate myself every time I do this.)
Its 6 and I feel like the most complete person on earth. I make people miss me & I make them cry. I feel super powerful.
And then before I could even think, I knew I was crying. I didn't cry when I was talking to her or to Her. I couldn't cry then coz I know I am not made that way.

So I sit to write down, to let it out, coz I think its too much work for the eyes alone..............................
I feel better now.

Its 6:00 & I remember all I missed doing yesterday, So I better be going.[:)]

GOOD EVENING INDIA !

on chocolate, girls & evenings

I was thinking of all the possible links when it comes to chocolate, girls & evenings.
I tried some:
# an evening with loads of girls around you, as intoxicating as chocolate in your system.
# girls eating chocolate bar while they chat with you at the bus stop this evening.
# the chocolate colored skin of an indian girl you touch not so accidentally, waiting for the bus this evening.


THE MOST PROBABLE ONE:
you eat your chocolate.
the girls have fun with their boyfriends.
the evening sucks, while you wait for the f***ing bus.


I am good at imagining things
coz it makes dealing with
evenings, easy;
the fact that there are no girls available for you, easier;
& addiction to chocolate, the easiest.

I am sure taking the easiest path.
What about you? [:P]

....on songs that are with me.... (for now)

they make it so easy for me to keep being me.
they squeeze my universe to my desk & my bathroom.
they help me stay away from whatever is rational, essential & normal.

on Abhi nahi aanaa

this one makes it so effortless for me to give a damn about anything (until i realize i live in a happy world)

on Tere Naina

this one makes it easy for me to stay awake through the weekend nights (until my first floor neighbors stop their usual weekend gala)

on Zara zara

this one brings back warmth, passion, love and what not (all that was borrowed & now taken back)

on Can't take my eyes off you

this one is for times when I miss being one of them ( )

for all other times I have HIMES BHAI..........[:P]
lets rock!

.....on YOU

there's still light outside my window.
there's wind, chillier now and there are birds & squirrels & the vanishing green.
In here there's me, there's music and there's no you.

sometimes i feel:

what if,
you never were real,
then you would always be my dream.
you would still make me want to find your face around.
you would still make me want to close my eyes to see you smile.
still make me write stories where you always ended up being mine.

what if,
i forgot you once & for all
and found the new you
start getting in love all over again
make stupid mistakes like before
try to know you inside out
& discover myself all over again.

there is this song, it takes me away from all that is real:

"she asks love not to make its way into her heart yet
wait! a bit more.
& when it does arrive ,she asks it to be slow,
to lose its way occasionally, to stumble on sweet nothings,
come to her like the slow wind.
don't wake her up yet, be her dream for a while.
she wants to feel love by waiting for it, dieing every moment for it."

I wish it happened to me. I would wait a little more, get a little more of that feeling in here.
I miss the pain in my heart.
that,which i dont feel anymore,
neither the pain nor the heart.............

courtsey:
"अभी नही आना, सजना|
थोडा मरने दे, इंतज़ार करने दे |"

"अभी ना जगाओ , बने रहो सपना,
अभी तो मैं चाहूँ आस लगाए रखना|
अभी नही आना, सजना|"

by : Sona Mohapatra

on a tuesday

/start counting::

#1. a ZERO credit class at 8 in the morning.

#2. a bus you just missed to catch.

#3. a hitch hiker's role you play for a while.

#4. a ridiculously chilly classroom that makes you want to pee in no time.

#5. a dumbass who asks a ridiculous quesion to extend the class by 5 full minutes.

#6. a dustbin close to your table in the RA office used by all passers by.

#7. a $2 meal at MacD that ends being a snack.

#8. a 2 hr lecture on programming where all i can do is nod in false approval of wisdom.

#9. a 3 hr gap before my TA work starts, till then i blog.

#0. a day, that keeps adding minuses to my total SUCK-o-METER.

on strangers

Yesterday at around 7 in the evening, a strange thought came to me.
I had not opened the window in my room ever since i arrived. why? coz i didn't need to, they had the aircon. on, all the time.( !***ing global warmers!)

but then i did open it. A warm breeze came in (nothing philosophical about it coz it happens all the time due to the temperature and pressure differences inside and outside) and i realised i should have done this by now. Not that I could see anything new outside. But it felt strange i hadn't done that by now. All the air in my room till today had been from the vent up there on the wall. All sounds from outside were blocked. All smell had been a mix of socks , shoes, deo, books, furniture and myself.
While I was in a fix, my roommate passed by and said-"Dude! what are u upto? the ac's on!" I said sorry and shut it down.
it seems an open window is a strange thing for him.

on CPM

CPM noun; vendor management (:P)

#1

****
They show me a black screen, with stupid white moving dots. They want me to believe the dots are trucks[:P] carrying excavated earth.
Simulation in construction process

_/---\_
O ....O



#2

Stocks, debentures, IPO, mergers, Inc., ........
They say small time entrepreneurs make up the highest percentage of players in the mad construction race working at as low as 3-4% profit and high risk of defaulting. This is lesser than what a bank pays you for a keeping a bank account.
This sucks



#3

Economy, owner/client, design-build, confrontation, dirt, politics, inflation....
They told me Zimbabwe is now facing a 4000 % inflation rate, so an apple costs 100 ZWD there. They added zeroes to the numbers on the existing currency notes! HILARIOUS.......dangerous!


CPM confusingly peculiar meaning .....of vendor management [:()]

on a rainy day

It rains a lot here and when it does, you tend to go back down the memory lanes coz thats all you can do. With Atif's "kuch iss tarah" in my ears, my soul goes out and drenches itself. It ain't enough for the dry Me.
I had a class today and it felt like its all the same. I yawned seven times, screeched my chair once, nodded each time the prof had her eyes on me and always kept track of the time left for the lecture to be over. The professor is a she, infact she was a DASA at IIT bombay. She told us that she came to purdue at a time when we were probably in our diapers. She is a Christian and she made this clear to us, i don't know why. But I like her. She is motherly in some ways. And she is an indian.

I will be working now the whole of this semester with a lawyer who comes every tuesday to purdue and teaches some legal shit.

My airtime for the cell has crossed 500 min. for this month and this shows how much i spend on voices, of people that were once too close to me to ever care to call them.

I wait to get into the bus everyday and when i get into the bus i wait to get down. I guess everyone is like this. You go carzy to get into stuff and crazier to get out. Do u get it? I couldn't. So I walked today and kept looking at every bus that passed by, didnt get in. Just kept looking at the people in them,then imagined how I would look sitting there.

I so want to cry today, may be watch a movie or listen to a song or going down the memory lane to a chapter in life. I come back to remembering coz thats all I can do.
But like sachin says-" its hard to let go!" its harder to stop recalling moments. I might need to add a few memorable ones. But without you, I can't.

So i wrote this comment to one of sachin's blog:
"you will have your salary in green
your bike in black
your beer in yellow
but you will miss a few
who color ur life in blue
one i'm sure is she
& the other of course is me."

till today

Till today I had been struggling. I had to fly away & then land in this place to feel indian. And they made me feel that by inviting me to the independence day celebration. Sachin says I should go. A senior says it feels odd when others watch you chanting the- jan gana man. But who cares for glares. the only problem is, I need to get up at 6 in the morning. This is where patriotism dies down. I will try my best like all these years at KGP.

The carpet everywhere in my apartment, the toilet/bath, the washer/dryer & the room heater are new to me. But essentially I am the same. I still like eating and listening to himesh's nasal splendor. I might pick up an accent only to make others understand me better. The place is a second KGP far away from city life. But it has all the ingredients of a cool place. A walmart, macDs, subways & too many bars make it cooler. And of course girls of varying color, size & smell.[:P]

Classes start next week, so I spend most of my time chatting with sachinwa (He has gone crazier. he send me this: http://www.thakurkainteqam.com/)

baaki sab theek hai!

a couple of days away from life!

i came back to kgp for a couple of days. i had to. the place gives me peace and perhaps thoughts. the last month at home with all the fuss about leaving has been real shit. i realized how lonely i feel at home. & i lack the courage to tell them - "let me breathe. let me be me. "
here @ kgp i take deep breaths.its like coming back to life. i have spent the last two days sleeping with doors and windows opened, at the TSC again and a couple of drinks down my throat to bring back memories.[:)]
i want to come back to this place and may be die here, in the green air. i dont know what is going to become of me. as august comes closer i am uncertain if my next journey starts? even if it does is it really my journey? got a chance to see nammo singh on the webcam. she loks beautiful than ever. she is doing fine, only that she misses me, wants me to meet her before i leave. she fears, may be feels subconsciously, that it might end. needs me to tell her: i am with her. i am not myself these days, how can i be hers.
all my friends are doing good.i am happy for them. i came back to harris too and sat down alone for a while. all i needed was a cup of tea and a friend. i had none. as i go back home i realize how important is love, friends and life once you are here in kgp. and when you go back its just life. i guess i am growing up or may be thinking a bit too much, taking it a bit too seriously. but i like it.
hoping to go through such psycho sessions more often and preferably with a friend[:)]
miss you

an article for the dep. magazine

a r c h i

well i promised her(the magazine secy) i would complete one before i leave for home.
but i had no clue to what would it actually be?
architecture?? naah! may be i should write on something I am good at..but then it wont find a place in the magazine, hence a waste of talent!
may be i can put down in a few true words how i feel about everything that were the last five years. i call it the plunder years. Learning architecture made me realize the real study starts once you are out of college. I can very well say that because I learned stuff only when i saw them, the structures, the building systems and the processes happening and not when they were in print. Books never fascinated me, but the photographs in them did. they inspired me. I recall the day when i was told that designing a space needs pure logic, a case study and a touch of you. well the touch of me was what i had been loking for until i found out it was too late. I graduated. and it is now that i realize that there are many like me who suffer this lack of identity in their work. may be it was the lack of a few courses on the basic architectural theories, the various schools of thought(if they ever existed), their history and impact. Out of the odd 60 subjects taught to us most of which started with the basics and ended when the end sems came, i could have afforded a few which would give me my identity as an architect.

on a lighter note about life here, i could have been a sportsperson.you must know how it feels to be a part of the basketball team.it feels gr8. or may be i could have learned to play the guitar, stretched a few chords until i was noticed, girls around me(would have felt great).what if i could learn swimming, my evenings would be glorious then; instead of the lonely walks or the sweet nothings at tikkas with friends.
well this is the part i call fantasy, but the real me, the real world around me was full of like minded archi guys. we talked a lot, so there was confusion but there was a lot of merry making too. those were the days when we had so much to do, so much to speak about almost everything knowing the fact we actually knew little. even now i have no clue to what architecture is..ask me to define it and i will have to think a lot and try hard not to use those fillers, words which mean nothing but are used only to convince you that you are dealing with something complex.

Then with time we grew into what we are today, still confused, still trying to know of things about life and architecture. the only difference is that we are no more together.so it will be hard to find patient listeners or for that matter, active protestors.
Another thought, a selfish one, people might even call it ugly but its true. I shall put it this way: first a question to my fellow depmates; dont you find it hard to connect with people outside kgp? dont you think we are no more normal or appreciative of the ways of junta outside this place. has this place changed us so much? and then a question to everybody else: why this awe? are we odd?
sometime back i got an answer to my question. when in life you find out that your near and dear ones are the others we just talked about, and that you will live with them happily ever after, you will come out of it. afterall 5 yrs in a life of 75(i aim to live long like the other architects)wouldn't make much of a difference. but it already has. although i feel just like we adapted ourselves to this place our alma mater, we would to life too. no worries!

best of luck to all my depmates.
make a difference to everything you can because i know we have things in common.[:)]

on leaving....

i am going away, not to the unknown land you may think of but to a place on earth i know all about and this makes the whole affair so unspecial. but what makes me philosophical is the thought of leaving the place i am right now at. from day one i knew i have to leave someday. i saw all the colors of life but it was mostly green for the last half decade. I put on a lot of weight, grew darker circles under the eyes, ended up with a head with lesser hair on it and lost too many things to count, but none as painful as the place itself. how will i connect to people other than those who lived with me here? and exactly how will i be able to fulfill the little desires like- staying up late, counting the stars, running behind stray dogs, climbing trees, sipping tea on the railway track, feeling the wind in my hair and sometimes even into my head and so many things that have been life for me here.
may be i now need a purpose in life, a thought that will never leave me or my head.A purpose.

The GUM

It cost a rupee. It was chewed upon until it lost all its juices. When the taste got bitter, It was thrown out of the mouth like a catapult on the burning asphalt. It waited its destiny until I stepped on it. It got stuck under the sole of my sandal. What a shame! But as useless as it can get, it now has a purpose in life, to make its presence felt through the uncomfort caused to the foot and thus to the man who wears it.
What we see here is classic example of revival, a plot displaying optimism at its best. All one has to do is to wait and wait for the right foot trying to force you down into dust, until you cling to it and make him regret for his move. What follows next totally depends on how well the gum can do what it does best. Whether it has lost flavor or elasticity or the adhesive character does not cause much of a hindrance to its aim and destiny.
If I told you that you were as wasted as the chewed gum, you could well answer me back referring to my blog.
Years ago, while still a kid, I got into a similar situation and like any other curious kid, I tried getting rid of the thing. So I sat down until I realized the best way to do it is to leave the sandal upside down, facing the sun for a long time so that the gum dried and would no more stick to the sole.
Now, I know, how it happened, more importantly why it happened; leaving aside the logical reasons, all I can say is that as soon as the gum realizes having won over the suppressing sole, it gives way. This last fight leaves it drained, devoid of all its powers and capabilities until it sees its end. It never cared what the world thought. But I know that the Gum always was a Winner.

a short story

When GOD got DRUNK

Let’s say, God got a bit too drunk at the New Earth Party and ended up being late to office the next day. Since there was no one to ask him why, he decides, he would punish himself for his tardiness. Centuries pass by until one day he realizes it’s time to penalize himself.
So he exchanges souls with a drunkard on earth for a day. Now if the story was about the drunk in God’s boots, it would not turn out be interesting enough. I mean how creative can you get with a drunkard at the God’s desk looking down at the world. From the top he would see thousands of people banging into each other, quarreling, making love, competing for a place, moving hurriedly as if all that mattered was covering maximum ground each day. In the whole process, some would cry, die, laugh or starve. He would never enjoy this and probably look for alcohol in desk’s drawer.

But what’s interesting is how God survives his day on earth. Only he knows that he is not the inebriate anymore. He would probably hate his body; look for money in his pocket to get a hair cut. So like any other broke drunkard, he would beg for a few pennies. What a waste of talent.[:P]
And now as the day passes by, his body demands food and may be alcohol in some form or the other. Since God decided to be a good man, he stops a gentleman hurrying to catch the bus and says,” O Son of Adam! I am the Almighty you pray to each Sunday at the church. You can do some good by helping me get food; for I have sinned and have to stay in this body for a day.”
The man says” Ah! I hear that everyday. Here, take the penny and go get drunk. And for your information I am not a catholic.”God realizes its time the world ended and they had another party up there- THE HAPPY NEW EARTH PARTY.

16

THE QUORUM for A HAPPY LIFE



How many people do I need around to lead a happy life? They say - You need a Dad, and a Mom all through your growing years, a girl friend in the years of trial and errors at love and life, a dog(I count it as a near and dear one) to play with when you have a home of your own, a nurse to look after you when you are old and wasted, and of course your family(wife and son) at your death bed.
Apart from this I need a few more people. I would love to have a cook, who would make me great food everyday, a gardener for my green grass, cacti and flowers, a doctor to take care of ailments that keep coming back. I figured out that I need three friends in life, three close friends to be more precise. This may sound funny, but I would need one for playing golf with, one to share my dinner and wine with and the third to talk to in my library over issues interesting and intellectual.
I can also afford to have a teacher all throughout my life, whom I could refer to in times of confusion, illusion and deadlocks, also a student to teach whatever life taught me, to make him learn from my mistakes.
I always dreamt of having a secret relationship of which the world has no idea. You know the kind I am talking about, of which you are not so proud, could well be a pain in the ass for the rest of the life. But may be when I have everything else, I can try having this someone.

And this I guess sums up the total number of people I need, without thinking of the fact that I will be needed back by many. For a happy life I will have to make sure my contribution in their lives is a positive one and they end up dying happy like me.

The poor kid's tiffin box

THE HAPPY & THE HURT


You know it when You are happy.
When the red is redder and smiles are wider!
When its green in the heart and blue in the head!
You feel great! Infact felt never better!

But its true that the Hurt live in the same world as you.
See the same red, only duller this time
Carry the same smile, for the sake of the Happy few
They try hiding the agony, they know its not glorious.

Its like the kid who tries hiding his tiffin box from others He knows its not as tasteful and desirable as the others’.
Its like the ugly soar on the knee you hide from others but spend hours staring at it when alone.

Why does the Hurt like solitude?
Why does the Happy want the world to know ?

Try thinking about this.
The Happy few tell the world, the happy story. And who exactly are the listeners, the sad souls.
The Hurt hide it from the happy world of others, because they know their story is like the poor kid’s tiffin box.

second life

2nd

I am the second child of my parents. I always stood second in my class. The only bicycle I had was a second hand. It was the second try at IITJEE that got me through. Even in college I am far second to the Dep.Topper. While taking the GRE , It was only at my second trial I managed to get a not so respectable score. I am the second boyfriend of my girlfriend. I am trying for the second time to go the United States.
So where are my firsts?
During my first kiss, the only thing that came to my mind was that I am the second guy she is kissing. My first computer made sure that my second semester was ruined academically. The second room I have shifted to in my hostel is filthier than the first. The first time I talked about the girl in my life to my Dad, both of us were threatened. [:P]

Even the guy who stands third in my rating system would take me as mostly harmless. So how unimportant is being a second. It always keeps me in a fix to decide which school of thought I should belong to. It’s like the famous glass of water scenario; call it half filled or half empty. I find myself perfectly normal. But it is tough to decide which side to get closer to. I can’t bear to be a second at everything I do. And believe me this has seriously affected my psyche. I underrate myself at academics and overrate myself at love. I create a misbalance of opportunities served and the successes made. I am still waiting at my first successful First. May be I have to wait till my second life. [:P]

Hi!

“See you tomorrow
Take care
Bye!”

How cold a parting would it be had I just said ”BYE!”

“Ok dear.
BBye
Love you
Byeee!”

How less romantic, less in love would she sound if she just uttered-BYE

What does Bye mean to any of us?
An obligation, a necessary expression of End!
They say it’s a nice farewell remark!
I believe it will never be nice by itself.
It needs an addition of expression or emotion.
The angry wife leaving the house and saying BYE
The lovers parting forever saying BYE
The kid turns to his father while standing at the school gate and says BYE

All these and many more situation make Bye a lonely word. A word that simply asks to make it more meaningful.
And yet we keep using it again and again to end things for us. It ends secret meetings, weak relationships, evening walks, internet chats, even lives, sometimes making it easier for the parting soul who stands at the doorstep ready to leave but short of words. Sometimes I feel sorry for It, not because its monotonous, but because it has to perform its infallible duty to mean nothing else, not even a slight deviation from its only meaning, i.e. to end.
BYE!

random

I see a naked women walking shamelessly on the road. A dead rabbit is being buried in the ground. An island with trees but no leaves on them is surrounded by roman soldiers at sea. I can feel my head being pressed against a pillow. I run and run and keep getting fatter with each yard jogged.
I was dreaming. And I remember the scenes. All I need is an intrepreter, a psychologist and a friend.
Am I turning into a sad guy.
May be I like the state of being unhappy. May be its just in my mind.