the last shot

i had lost count long ago.
seven
eight
nine
ten...
...vodka vodka vodka...

my eyes were searching for you
coz after each shot you vanished
in the maze of dancing zombies
slaves of booze, cigarettes and loud music.
hide and seek, yeah it was fun
after some fuddled steps guided by fuzzy vision
i found you at last
dancing... flying in heavenly mists
i kept looking at your face, ohhhh!!! that need of you
i wanted another drink
i wanted to play hide and seek, again
to lose you and get you back, again
the song ended and you fell into my arms
and whispered
puhleezz... don't leave me

...dancing queen...
melting into an embrace we danced
like two fools in love
like there was no one watching
our eyes met, you smiled
your head on my chest and we danced
like there was going to be no tomorrow
coz we were one
for happiness and sorrow

...i had lost count long ago...
...but i remember the last one...
...coz when our lips met...
...you tasted like wine...

Quote of the Day...

i am sick of being an emotional fool
now i want to be a practical one


he he he ha ha ha ha

Its not the liquor i miss :)

The Doll and the Rain

The summer was now at its peak. The lands were scorched and so were the residents of the village Nandpur. The trees had become bare, only the deep rooted cacti and small trees of kikkar produced scattered bits of green in the landscape. The farmers had given up hope, the hope of rains, a good crop and a good harvest in the end. The cattle in the village had given up hope too, the hope of rain, a good crop, a good harvest and green fodder in the end. The life in village had slowed down. Every thing happened at a deadening pace. The conversations took place in whispers. The street dogs lay all day under a tree and moved only their ears and whimpered only from under the tree. The days were dragging on.

The village was coming to a stop.

But a girl of 8, Jeeti, was getting restless under the neem tree, where her grandmother was sitting on a cot, in the courtyard of a farmer's home. “Bebe, do you know? Dad is bringing a doll for me from city today. The doll with a pink dress and golden hair. I am telling you Bebe, it will be the best doll in the whole world. And i am not going to let veera and bhaen even touch it” The grandmother, who had long passed this stage of getting excited about dolls, did not show much interest in the innocent talk of the 8 year old girl. The grandmother had also slowed down but not due to the heat. She was trying to preserve life in this way and praying to live for another summer. The 8 yr girl after failing to get any response from the old woman gave up and went inside and tried to start a conversation with her mom. “Maa, did you have a doll too?”. Her mom also shooed her away. Her older brother and sister who were twins and 4 years older came inside and started planning about something. Talking in hushed voices they were planning something very important. They had found out the way to end the summer. Last night after Jeeti had gone to sleep grandmother had told them about a ritual, a sacrifice, which could bring rain. They were not going to tell Jeeti about it.

In the evening Jeeti's father came back from city. He also had a box with him. Jeeti was looking at the bag expectantly but she did not dare ask her dad about its contents in front of her brother and sister. She waited till her father had dinner and only when he was about to sleep she asked him about her gift. the father who was surprised, why she had not pounced on him when he had come back laughed after hearing the reason and gave the doll to his 8 year old daughter. Jeeti took the doll to her bed, kept it's head on the pillow. The doll closed its crystal blue eyes. Jeeti went to sleep with a smile on her face.

The next morning Jeeti woke up and looked at the doll which was still asleep on the pillow. She smiled. She thought about all the games she was going to play today. While having breakfast she kept some tiny crumbs aside for the doll. When Jeeti's mom combed her hair, she also brushed the doll's hair with the tiny pink brush which came in the box. She took the doll to all the rooms and introduced her with all members of her family except her brother and sister, who she had not seen since last night. She wanted to know what they were up to? But she forgot about them quickly and began to convince her mom to sew a new dress for the doll. By afternoon she was tired and after having lunch went to sleep with the doll by her side.

Jeeti woke up in the evening. She got up and went outside to play with her friends. She played all evening without thinking about the doll. She did not think that the doll could no more be on the pillow, that the doll could have been taken by someone while she was asleep. She kept playing and came back home only after dark. She ate dinner and went to her daadi where her elder siblings were talking with the old woman. She sat on the side and listened quitely.

“Daadi, we did it today. Its gonna rain tomorrow. Just see... haan. It will rain cats and dogs and we will all be spared from this heat. Haan ji... and we cried like someone had actually died. We cried for full two minutes ji. We ate the prasad later and we also put flowers on it.”

“You little miscreants”, daadi shouted at them, “I did not tell you to go and burn Jeeti's doll. You rats! You could have made any doll out of cloth and sticks and then burnt it. Now wait till your father comes home. He is going to remove your skin today”. There was silence for two minutes. Everyone was in shock. The 8 year old girl ran inside, crying loudly, into her mother's lap. “Maa, they burnt my doll. I did not let them play.. thats why”. She cried and cried until sleep came to her tired eyes which had run out of tears long ago.

Next morning the sky was heavily overcast. Dark clouds had gathered over the small village of Nandpur. People came out of their homes, on to roof tops, in the streets and also near the peepul tree, which was favorite spot for the old men who would gather there to share some gossip, discuss politics or just to sit in the shade when there daughter-in-laws would holler them out of their homes. The village sweet vendor had already begun preparing jalebis and pakoras. The kids went to the open ground just outside the village to play games which they had long forgotten, hidden inside their homes due to the scorching heat.. Women-folk were standing in gullies, discussing how the clouds were the darkest in five years and how the rain was going to fall for at least 5 days.

The village had come to life again.

But a girl of 8 kept sitting inside with a small new dress and a pink hair brush in her hands.

Then it rained.

P.S. :- the ritual of burning a doll, actually cremating a doll, to call rain was actually performed in some villages in punjab(by kids ofcourse as a doll-play stuff). I was told about this by my grandmother only. And when i tried this in class 2 summer vacations... it actually rained. Don't know many details about the ritual though.

The weather in Chandigarh is awesome.

Its a perfect day to go to Kasauli, Padech, Morni
Its a perfect day to sit at "sip and stare"
Its a perfect day to maaro "drifts" and "geris" around lake
Its a perfect day to listen to jagjit singh
Its a perfect day to play "aam-lelo"
Its a perfect day to sit on the ramp and have coffee and read a book
well this option isn't quite possible as there is no coffee near ramp

Its a perfect day to be with friends
who are away... vanished...

I feel happy for the "day", its perfect for so many things
naaaaaaa..... saali dhop nikal aayi :(

aakash ke baadal bol uthe...

आकाश से बादल बोल उठे
तुम भी तो अब कुछ बोलो ना
झूम उठा है मेरा मन
तुम भी इस रंग में हो लो ना

धरती ने जब थी आह भरी
आकाश ने प्यार दिखाया है
वर्षा है अब हर आंगन में
तुम भी अब मुझे डुबो लो ना

है हवा में भी कुछ शरारत सी
पत्ता पत्ता सहलाया है
मुस्का के तुम सौंधी मिटटी सी
मुझ को भी अब बहका दो ना

आकाश से बादल बोल उठे
तुम भी तो अब कुछ बोलो ना...

Rain is here
and i feel
drenched in your love already
this scent of wet sand
is definitely you somewhere...

the TRIP to MUSSOURIE, Part DoOsRa

The story so far...
Four guys ( Arjun, Saurabh, Bhuwan and I) have finally decided to leave for Mussourie-Rishikesh on 29^th may.

This part of the trip is called the INITIATION

We decided to take the night bus from Chandigarh to Haridwar so that most of the journey is covered in the cool of the night. We planned to meet at 11 o' clock at the bus-stand only.

Time - 2300 hrs
Place – Bus stand

I had asked Mannat to drop me at the bus-stand that night. We reached there on time but as expected none of the touring party had come. So Mannat and I walked here and there and tried to pass time by some bird watching at night. Fortunately enough, there were many at the bus stand even at this hour. Finally when the guys arrived after about 20 minutes the first words of explanation, before my uttering out a single abuse, came out like this...

Arjun: Chuza bahut bada koosa hai.

Chuza: Arjun bahut bada koosa hai

A2C: Hum teri wajha se late hue.

C2A: Nahi, hum teri wajha se late hue.

Bhuwan: ha ha ha ha

Me: What the fuck?

So the next 10 minutes were spent in discussing the reasons of the delay. Arjun said that Chuza was having an international conference with some of his “professional” contacts but somehow they had started playing the game of who will sign off first. Pahle aap... nahi pahle aap. Also due to Chuza, arjun had forgotten his Mp3-player lying on the bed. Chuza vociferously denied these allegations. Amidst all this hullabaloo an Old aunty ji who was sleeping on the other side of the bench woke up. We all were given a pretty sound tongue lashing. This also reminded us of the real reason why we were there. We bought the Tickets and got into the bus.

But hey! this is not any bit different from normal, usual stuff and when we are concerned things are not supposed to be like this. So as the alchemist says, “the universe conspires etc etc...”, the trip started with... read on...

There was still sometime for the bus to start. Chuza, Arjun and i were inside while Bhuwan was outside talking on his cell phone. I asked arjun to get some toffee-chewing gum-polo. He tried to pass on the task to Bhuwan but he seemed pretty much in love with his phone. Arjun had to go. So now Arjun and Bhuwan were not on the bus. Chuza was still trying to explain to me that how it was not his fault which caused the delay. Suddenly! The driver came in from nowhere. Turned on the engine and revved it up for a little while. Arjun and Bhuwan were still not on the bus. The Bus started to move. Arjun and Bhuwan were still not on the bus. Damn it !!!

“Stop the bus, Stop the bus”

“Run Run Run”

I got off the bus and ran to the shop where Arjun still had not paid the shop wala. The transaction was being conducted in slow motion and to top it all, the shop-wala didnt have 500 ka Chhutta.

“Bhai, bus chal padi”

“bhaiya do center fresh aur de do”

“Bhai, chheti kar. Bus chal padi”

“bhaiya, ye lo paise... WHAT”

“Jaldi bhaag”

We quickly took our stuff and found Bhuwan (the phone had stuck to his ear) and ran towards the bus where saurabh was standing in the door... Dilwale Dulhaniyan Le Jayenge style.

Finally we are on way.

The bus stopped at a dhaba where we had chai, chana-daal and lays. There was an old hindi flick playing on the TV. A hot steamy scene was on. The driver waited for it to end.

So finally en route to Haridwar, in a rickety bus, we tried to sleep-talk-lookoutsideintodarkness before we finally entered the dream lords realm.

AGLE ANK MEIN PADHIYE: Haridwar mein subha ka drishya, breakfast, how we slept on pavements.

the TRIP to MUSSOURIE, part PeHlA

Well hello folks. Finally i have made up my mind(basically overcome laziness) to write about my trip to Rishikesh-Mussourie. It will be a long series of posts as i have lots to say about this wonderful experience.

In the first part I ll be talking about how it all got started. I ll call it THE PLANNING...

Scene: Some table in an Air-conditioned library reading room.
Time: Some day in the preparatory leave before the end-sem exams.
Characters: The extended Flip-Flop family[[bhupi(Me) arjun(bhai) saurabh(chuza) karan(K) siddharth(sido) bhuwan(umm... bhuwan)]]

Chuza is highly frustrated and is trying to find some bakra for time wastage. Everyone seems to be reading for the exams that are gonna commence in about 4-5 days. There is an eye contact between Chuza and Bhupi. A conversation follows which everyone finds irresistible.

Chuza: Yar kahin bahar chalte hain.

Me: padhle yar, abhi aaya hun bahar se. Hmmm... chal 5 minute baad CCD chalte hain. Aur tu abhi to us se mil ke aaya hai.

Chuza: Chal chhad. Chhutiyion mein kahin chalte hain yar.

Bhai joins...

Bhai: lets have a trip like Kangra.

Chuza: mast idea. Manali or mussourie.

Sid joins...

Sido: beep beep beep. I ll be in London. Beep beep beep.

Karan joins...

K: yar, padhlo yar. Oye sid kitna syllabus ho gaya?

Me: yar manali nai, i have been there three times. Lets go to mussourie on bikes.

Bhai: chal theek hai... i can arrange lodging in mussourie.

Me: yar bikes pe chalte hain.

Chuza: nai yar, mujhe “relax” karna hai. Bikes pe nai.

Sido: beep beep beep, yar ye trip bhi miss ho jaayega, beep beep beep.

Me: saale beep beep, you ll be in bloody london. That is like theonewithhotbabes.

Sido: hmmm, chal ab i am playing age of mythology.

K: yar padhlo yar. Mera to abhi bahut thoda syllabus hua hai. Ab ghante baad baat karte hain.

All agree

after 5 minutes

Me: yar bikes pe chalte hain.

For all those who are curious, bhuwan was sitting at an adjoining table with another member of our family :D. Though he agrees to go anywhere with us... But there are yet, many a hurdles.

Before the exams are over, Chuza has tried getting a room in Manali but has been unsuccessful and as bhai would say alongwith his danger look... “chuze tu kabhi kuch dhang se nai karta”.

After exams we had decided that we ll be going to Mussourie. Only bhai, chuza and i were fully sure about going. Bhuwan hadn't asked his parents for permission. Karan had some other plans. Sid as you all know was going to London. Though the exam results did make me waver but a little pep talk by bhai helped me in choosing the right option.

Though we had no plan but we tried to stick to a rough outline which is here...

-Leave by bus on 29^th may, night.
-Reach Haridwar on 30^th morning.
-Leave for Rishikesh same day, after exploring Haridwar.
-Stay in Rishikesh for one day.
-Go to Mussourie and come back when our cash finishes. :D

Two days before leaving Bhuwan confirmed he will be going. So now there were four of us and Karan was saying that he will join us in Mussourie (i was really very unsure about it though, and i turned out to be right... hu hu ha ha ha).

One day before i got a buzz on messenger from Chuza saying that Arjun wanted us all to go on train. We made quick calculations of fare and found out that none of us had even Rs 200 so we decided to meet at the reservation office in sec 17. En route, i got four messages from chuza which conveyed that we still weren't sure how we would be going.

Arjun-train

Bhuwan-bus

Arjun-train

Bhuwan-bus

Me- bikes, bikes, bikes(one final try, but salon ko samajh hi nai aaya, wot fun would it have been)

Chuza- BAS, BAS, BAS

We finally decided to go by Bas... i mean Bus :P (small joke)

So one night before...

Bhai, chuza, Bhuwan and me ( arjun's wish comes true... a trip like kangra ), all set to conquer heights of fun and masti, sleep with a smile on their faces, looking forward to the great great MAZAA it turned out to be.

AGLE ANK MEIN PADHIYE: The bus journey to haridwar, why we had to sleep on pavements, and how we reach rishikesh.

PS:- All those who are reading this. Please leave comments and be what all good readers are... REGULAR

PPS:- to chuza bhai and bhuwan... if i missed something... do add to it.

A bus journey... whatever

There was no seat left after i occupied one just behind a fat lala ji. There were still about 20 minutes for the bus to start. I opened my paperback and tried to read myself to sleep, but the hero of the novel had other plans. He was about to accidentally kill a policeman which was going to land him up in great trouble and change the course of the story. When the bus moved, i was deep into finding solutions for the murderer who would marry a beautiful bride in the end and totally missed the conductors requests, which were slowly becoming jibes, to buy the ticket. “Sahib ji, you have to pay extra money to use the benefits of a moving library”. I paid for the ticket amidst smiles from fellow passengers and a subduing glance from the conductor.

The bus was now moving at a steady pace but in the heat of Indian summer it causes greater discomfort as the loo strikes you with greater force causing more perspiration. Adding to my woes were a punjabi lady and her baby. The baby, which was genuinely discomforted due to the heat that was pouring out from every direction, would not stop wailing and the mother would not stop cursing the baby. Finally a solution was found out and the baby was thrust in my lap, as i was sitting on the corner seat. I tried not to feel embarrassed and started looking at all the colorful people from my land who were thrust in a bus which was made for carrying only half of them. My reverie was broken when the bus came to a sudden stop and half of the people fell over each while the other half cursed them.

An old man had come in front of the bus. The driver applied the breaks just in time and the old man was saved. The driver already much irritated by the heat could not control his temper and started throwing curses at the old man. “Sardaraa! why cant you just jump in a well if you want to die”, he said. The old man, who had actually wanted to board the bus, silently came to the other side and threw his potli inside followed by his walking stick. He somehow managed to drag his frail body inside the bus before the driver moved the bus impatiently. Angry looks were exchanged and driven by the punjabi spirit of not staying put, the driver tried to start an altercation. “Baba ji, why dont you buy a marooti if you are so uncomfortable.” The old man replied by just suggesting to the driver that he was unable to buy a marooti as he had paid all his money to the driver's mom last night. The driver was at a loss of words so he started to concentrate on the road again. Many of the passengers who were looking forward to an entertaining session of “punjabi courtesies” felt let down and the rest of them heaved a sigh of relief as a fight would have been too hard on there already tense nerves.

As for myself, I kept looking at the baby which was not mine but was comfortably asleep in my lap. I patted its back and waited sullenly for this ordeal to end.

M Back

Due to persistent insistence by two out of five regular readers of my blog i am back.

And i am back from a short hill trip to Mussourie. Had great great fun. Will be writing about it in my future posts.

Nothing to talk about abhi so signing off.

keep walking...