This one please

I have made zillion plans. Few of them worked. Rest were left untouched/unfinished.

I have done what I never thought I d be able to do ever in my life.

I have left power, for something I have always wanted to do.

Please god. I beg.

Please make this one plan actually work out... the way I want it to.

Metaphorical Kataap.

~<0>~

Story : There was a boy. Whatever he wanted, got screwed up. The slightest of hint expectation was enough to bring it all down. The boy was pissed.

~<0>~

Ok. Whatever was that Geeta Shloka about not having expectations, it is screwing my life big time. Anything I raise my hopes about, start looking forward to, want, need gets screwed up big time.

The only day I did not put my hopes up for a thing, it actually worked out well. I know, you can see a big learning in here, but I have like had it. Every other time I am left nursing my broken heart. You know why did I not put up my hopes up, coz I was not very excited about the thing. So, over the years, as I have observed my life I have to either not expect anything or lower my standards and accept whatever comes my way.

Am I supposed to live without ever aspiring anything. If not, then for how long do I have to go through this emotional grind. How is a person supposed to live and not want things, isn't this what makes us different from tables and chairs.

~<0>~

The last post has become a moot point now.

~<0>~

I am not an Artist

~<0>~

maano agar mil jaye khushi
tum ko kahi bazaar mien jaakar
kya khush kar paoge khudko
4 sikke gham k badle aadha hissa sukoon ka paakar

kis baniye se loge sauda
udhaar ka shayad karke waada
kaise ye pata karoge
kaunsa brand chalega zaada

geeli aankho se duur hi rakhna
guarantee card pe likh rakha hoga
par kya aankho ko tok sakoge
saari umr jab dukh hi hai bhoga

~<0>~

Read Saikat's story today, loved it and listened to a song with god awesome lyrics and one crazy hell beautiful voice. I get inspired by people who are good at anything artistic. It prods me to attempt, albeit shoddily, things few years back I never imagined myself doing. Writing and acting top the list. Photography and Painting are new things to take shot at.

It must feel really good to be an artist. But are Artists happy people?
I hope I am able to know the answer one day.

~<0>~

I miss drams more than anything from college.

~<0>~

The Wooden Cigarette

In spite of all the rants going on about global warming it had been a cold winter in his city. It had been raining incessantly since morning and a snowstorm was predicted. The radiator in his almost empty office, most people had taken off due to bad weather, could barely keep his teeth from chattering. Time and again the sound of the blizzard against the windows would scare him a little and break his concentration. He was finally happy that the dark gloomy day had come to an end and it was time to go home. He was already thinking about the cozy interiors of his two bedroom home in which he used to live alone. Few sips of scotch before going to sleep would be perfect, he mused.

He came out of office fully packed in an overcoat, muffler and a knit cap. It had stopped raining but the cold and the dampness hit him hard and he decided to take a cab till 5th street from where he would walk a short distance to his home and not completely skip the only exercise he used to indulge in. He hollered a cab and shouted 5th street at the driver without even getting inside completely. The cabbie seemed to be in an even greater hurry and stepped on the gas as soon as he got the signal.

The interior of the cab was much warmer than the freezing cold outside but instinctively he put his hands in his coat pockets. His fingers touched a long slender object. It was a wooden dummy cigarette which doctors suggested to patients who were trying to quit cigarettes. He had been recently diagnosed with a mild respiratory problem and the doctor had asked him to give up on one of his most loved things, real cigarettes packed with the real tobacco. The doctor had advised him to buy one of these wooden lookalikes, just to keep something in the fingers when one has nothing else to do. Out of habit he put the wooden cigarette to his lips, took a long puff and released a large amount of imaginary smoke. The cabbie came up with 10 clever remarks but kept them to himself as he saw color return to the old man's cheeks. The wooden cigarette did work sometimes.

The cab reached 5th street and as he was about to get off after paying the fare, the cabbie offered him a real cigarette and some matches. It was an act of pity. To avoid the hassle of protesting he took them and put them in his pocket. He started his walk home lost in his thoughts when his reverie was broken by a large drop of chilling cold water on his nose and he saw people running about everywhere looking for shelter. The rain now was worse than it had been all day. He himself just made it to a tin sheet extension of the roof of a closed grocery shop. A lady and a little girl of 6 or 7 also came running under the same tin roof. He tried to not notice and avoid unnecessary conversation. His hands inadvertently went inside his pockets but this time they felt the real cigarette. He remembered the cabbie. He smiled at his badluck. He was trying to quit and people he did not even know were offering him cigarettes. All his hard work and discipline had now come to this. A cold unforgiving winter night and a cigarette in his hands. He contemplated and re-contemplated. He repeated to himself that it would be just this one last cigarette tonight, to keep him alive in this godforsaken weather. He was done with all the chain smoking he had to do. "If you start again after quitting, its your first cigarette all over again and its easiest to quit after the first one", he remembered the dialogue from a wisdom movie, as he liked to call the movies where there was no story but people talking about random stuff like coffee, truth, lies, sex, life, cigarettes. No story but people talking about life... cigarettes.

He thought hard but in the end put the cigarette to his lips and lit it with matches the cabbie had given him. How thoughtful of him to give me the matches too, he thought. He took the first puff and then the second and then the third. Ohhhhh... how he had missed the feeling of hot smoke going right through him. The nicotine refreshing his nerves and bringing that alertness in his eyes. He was filled with a rare feeling only smokers can experience, contentment. He smiled. His chain of thoughts was broken by a sound. The little girl standing under the tin had started coughing and was looking at him accusingly. He looked at the remaining cigarette in his hand and cursed in his mind. Children, how he hated them, always taking away the fun out of life. He stubbed the cigarette with his boot and walked into the rain.

He thought about his own daughter who had left him years ago. He needed to be alone that night. He put his hands in his pockets and pulled out the wooden cigarette once again. He took one last puff out of it and threw it away.

~<0>~

I am not much pleased with the title.

~<0>~

.: Dreams :.

~<0>~

Its not often that you have a very nice dream and also remember it in so much detail.

Last to last night I had a very very happy dream. I had just joined some college abroad and was super happy about the new place and meeting new people(almost). The college campus was very amazing built in Victorian style though some parts resembled Thapar too much. There were some very interesting characters in it. There were two sardarjis who never answered your questions properly. When I asked them from where they were, they replied from the moon and when I asked if the knew where the classrooms were they said they were near the moon. But they were well meaning persons. Jolly good fellows I say. Everyone including me had iPhones and some of my new classmates guided me about using some features. Everyone was extra nice, especially the teachers. My maths teacher called everyone in the grounds for his first lecture and showed us how different paper planes fly differently and why. This is something Sid used to do in my real college in free lectures. So I was not feeling like a complete newbie... I guess I liked maths teacher only coz in the first class there was no maths :) I had also enrolled for a subject named AMATUS, pata nahi kya tha but it was taught by a firang lady teacher who was very beautiful.. hehe. The first day was so entirely wonderful and I had lunch with Suchu and sham ko met Sid and told him about the planes.

Well ofcourse there was a girl I started liking(yeah, first day). She was my neighbor in hostel. She was so amazingly awesome that its hard to explain. You know those girls who always have pink cheeks and slightly curly hair. We hit it off from the word go and it was so amazing that I have a smile on my face even now while writing about her. However, she had some assistantship with some prof and the hostel people thought that she should be shifted to some "better" floor, so off she went to some other floor and I heard someone saying,"Bhupi its 9 in the morn, office ni jana kya"? :| How cruel I tell you and how me to not get the girl in even my own dream?

Well thats it but I had a very good time and I guess that is what is important.
~<0>~

A friend of mine is applying to phoren univs and we discuss a lot about it everyday so that could be the reason why I had this dream.

I wonder what AMATUS could be? Wiki says its this but I am sure this is not what was taught in the class.

~<0>~

Maybe its just my folly
but I do wonder why
some people wish to pull off evil deeds
and I wish to dream

(maybe to be completed)

~<0>~

She leaves her signs everywhere
signs which she knows I can see

I know the smile that flowers smile
after she passes by
I can catch the words she said to no one
In the cold desert wind I can hear her sigh
Little giggles that trees cant hide from me
and the tear drop that fell, I wonder why

Oh and the promise of love that she made
Oh its nothing but a lie, I know
But it made someone smile one last night
before the poor soul was destined to die
I dream of her in that little black dress
I dream of her every night

Its just something she has to do, she says
oh but there's evil in her eye
who lives who dies, its a game as I see
but she wins every time
those who she leaves, kill themselves
those who she kills, well... they just die

the nights over and my dream is about to end
to her own world she is about to fly
When do we meet in real I ask, and she says
Only when your time comes by
she kisses me and I open my eyes
but to her own world she is about to fly

~<0>~

taareyan di raat

ajj chhad aapne duniya naal keete waade
main v kuch chuthlaaye sachaan nu mann lainda haan
aa ajj kuch daer kalle baithiye
aa ajj kuch gallaan kariye

main jaanda haan k tu masroof hain
main jaanda haan k tu chukki hai duniya aapne modheyaan te
ajj laah k duniya da bojh aapne siro
aa ajj kuch dil v haula kariye
aa akk kuch gallaan kariye

main tere kambb.de bullan te nach rahe
sawaal padh sakda haan
mere jawaab shayad tainu change na laggan
par main nahi chahunda k eh taareyaan di raat
enha gile shikveyaan wich zaaya hove
main nahi chahunda k eh bhaagaan bhari raat
enha uljhe khayaalaan wich zaayz hove
kinne chir baad mile haan
aa ajj kuch gallaan kariye


:(

~<0>~

I am trying my hand at Punjabi writing these days. As you can see the result is not too good, but I will try some more. I think I have the idea for next poem already. So, you might have to read stuff you don't understand for some while. Transliteration sites are there but I guess I am too lazy for them.

Goodnight dear friend.

~<0>~

What is the biggest mistake a story writer can do? Its not the punctuation and its not the grammar. Word processors take care of stuff like that. Its not the cowardliness and the lack of imagination shown by being inspired from his own life. It is creating a character so convincing that he starts believing that the character is real. Making a real person out of pen and paper; sketching a life out of smoke rings and whiskey. Believing in what is not and all the while neglecting and denying what the reality is. The biggest mistake a writer can do is fall in love with the person who does not even exist in the same universe as he.

But how can he stop himself? The resistance is futile. Whole of his day is spent in dreaming about her. In picturing her roam around her house. Taking care of the smallest of things. He sees her going to her job and trying to do her best in something she does not relate to. He imagines her preparing her dinner and smokes with her when she lights her cigarette before going to bed. The temptation to kiss her when she lies down on the couch is irresistible. When she finally retires for the day he looks at her peaceful face and smiles. She is beautiful and he pines for her touch. He can not kiss her, he can not make love to her and he can not say it to her that he loves her. He knows that it wont matter. He knows her destiny is being charted on the next page. He knows that she can not stay with him and he can not stay with her. The story has to end. Happily for her but always and always sadly for him.

A barrier must be maintained. Dreams should not be mingled with reality and reality should be kept as far away as possible from the unreal.

The Bad Ass

Somewhere in a small hut in the desert...
"Eat it you bitch. I gotta keep you alive. Better co-operate, I know other ways to put this in you", he said after throwing the bread at her. She was not gonna touch it, he knew it and it made him smile.
Elsewhere...
He walked into the large room where a man was sitting behind a table. He never had felt surer about what he was doing.
"I am here to make a deal and my terms are on the table. Kill her". He took out his gun and put it on the table. Years later he was gonna say it was the biggest mistake of his life.

Half a Song

I want to apologise to everyone and mostly to myself for the inactivity here. But I am trying to get back into the groove. So here is half a song as a proof.. might update later and complete it.

tera wo khidki pe aana
aur aake muskuraana
kya duniya kya sheher ye itne
kya galiyo mien aana jana
sabse humko pyara hai tera wo chaubara
raato ko parda hata k
padhne ka bahaana
kya science k funde itne
kya english ka taana baana
sabse humko pyara hai teri aankho ka ishara

Tagged...

Okay !
Its been very long since the last post. Almost a month. Kokil had tagged me so here I am doing the Tag ! now. Must say that it was a tad difficult. What I had to do was to "pick up ten interesting or common phrases (five from the post that tagged me) and write the lyrics they remind me of."

Five from Kokil's blog.

1. Vagabond
There's a man in the corner and his clothes are worn
And he's holding out his hand
You could see in his eyes as the people walk by
He knows they don't understand
-- Gabriel and Vagabond by Foy Vance

2. In your big brown eyes
Teri aankho k siva duniya mien rakha kya hai...

3. memories
Maae ri yaad wo aaye
Maae ri koi te lae aaye
Maae ri yaad wo yad wo aaye ri... :D

4. fly away
O jaane waale ho sake to laut k aana..

5. I haven't slept at all in days
Neend na aaye mujhe
Chain na aaye mujhe
Jaye koi zara dhund ke laaye
Na Jane kahan dil kho gaya...

My own contribution...

6. Fight maar yar...
I tried so hard
and got so far
in the end...
You know what happens :P

7. Farak to padta hai yar...
Tum agar mujhko na chaaho
to koi baat nahi
Tum kisi aur ko chahogi
to mushkil hogi

8. Kudiya Oye...
You could be mine
But you are way out of liiiiine

9. Bachpan...
Aao bachcho
aaj tumhe ek kahani sunata hoon main
Sher ki kahani sunoge
Hoon Hoon hoon
Mere pass aao mere dosto ek kissa suno
Mere pass aao mere dosto ek kissa suno...

10. KFGH
eh duniya mast kalandar
te utte baithe bandar
samjhe aap nu sikander
te chakde fatte...

Yayyyyy...fun post.
Thank You to Kokil and I tag Manu Bajaj and Nikita and Sahil Hakim.

Highs and Lows

~<0>~

The sign above specifies that it is going to be yet another "rambling post", so you can very well not bother reading it. 

~<0>~

I cant sleep tonight. Its nothing out of the ordinary, but I will miss the very weird dreams I was having from some nights. They made good "Things to think while you brush". Last night in one of these dreams a random dude hit me with a very heavy whiskey glass. I had to get stitches. After I woke up, while brushing my teeth, I kept touching the back of my head. Just to be sure you know. 

Some dreams have this nasty habbit of seeping into the real world. Its not totally unfair as we think about real stuff in dreams. So they have some right over our reality. If you think I am just talking Non-sense, I will tell you about a dream I had once.

It was in college and I was kinda very senti types over a girl. In my dream I recieve a phone call from a very close friend who kinda knew who the girl was. I find out that this call is actually not meant for me. My friend had called the girl and was telling her that I was not the right guy for her and all this crap about me. Now due to some dream world cross connection I get the call too and am able to hear all this. As is pretty obvious I am pretty pissed of with my friend and also kinda heartbroken as the girl simply agreed to him in the end of the conversation. Now the biggest shock for me was when I was woken up by a REAL call on my REAL cell from the same friend. Imagine seeing the name of a person who has just almost spoiled your life, flashing on your cell. Boy o Boy he never would have expected so many gaaliyan from me then and only after about 5 -6 minutes of choicest of punjabi gaaliya I realised that I had a bad Dream. Poor guy still has no idea why he had to listen to me gone mad.

This is just one example you know. I can tell you many more but I wont.

~<0>~

If you are wondering why I titled this post "Highs and Lows", then I should tell you that it is because a friend and I were talking about Highs and Lows today. Its not important for you to know what all we talked about Highs and Lows. I told you only to convey that the title of this post is relevant.

~<0>~

That blog is so pathetic. Really.

Yes That One.

~<0>~

Sometimes you know someone (B) who knows someone else (A) you know. You want to know whats up with A, however A is dumb bitch and wont tell you directly. You cant ask B coz B's a motherfucker and you hardly talk. But you know that B knows something about A that you really want to know. 

I should know all about A. B should get lost.

What to do?

Sometimes you are in a Soup.

~<0>~

Score Sheet

High|Low

   0   | 1

Bad Binary Joke.

~<0>~ 

ps:- Hey Ko, will do the tag in next post.

Web Comic :)

Sad Song Love Song

~<0>~

i know this guy
and i hate him so
that i want to kill him
with an arrow and a bow

we go to one office
and we work all day
the bosses also like him
i want to run away

he plays all the games
and he is good at them too
i write sad songs
but the listners are few

he thinks he is cool
and he thinks he is smooth
we both love a girl
and she shares his view :(

he is loved by all
and he has many friends
i sit all alone
waiting for the shit to end

this is my story
i wrote it on a whim
but the mother fuckin shit is
its all about him

~<0>~

i know this girl
and i love her so
its like cupid hit us
with and arrow and a bow

we go to one office
and we work all day
when it gets un-romantic
we run away

she plays all the games
and she is good at them too (ahem)
i write love songs
coz our love is true

she wants a pool
and she thinks its cool
we both picked a home
which has a wonderful view

she is loved by all
and i also have some friends
we hang out together
i hope it never ends

this is my story
i wrote it in a spur
the most wonderful thing is
its all about her

~<0>~

Thoda sach aur...

There is this thing about being in love with you which I completely and absolutely hate. Its not the part where you don't know I love you. Its not even the part where I know I cant have you, even for a tiny winy time in my life.
Its the part where after some days i get to know this little fact about you and then I just cant believe that what a stupid idiot I was in believing otherwise. The best part is that you don't lie to me. I can't blame you even a little for this rip-your-chest-and-crush-your-heart state I get myself into every time. Its only my naivete that leads me to believe in something, which is mostly the way i want the things to be. Why? Why? Why?

Goddammitt Why?

Deep down my heart I was afraid that this would happen and deep down my heart i was wishing for this day to not happen this time. But, I don't know why and how and for what fucking god damn reason, by evening I had myself convinced that all my fears were baseless and my worries without reason.

Why did I not think of it earlier? It has happened before also. How could I even hope that you wont do it again? Bloody hell !!! everything is falling into place now. I can see at least some of the steps.

See, You are You and I forget that every time. It had to happen and it did. Only problem, I got to know of it today and out of my own stupid doing.

I hate you... because you were there.

Kab sudhroge?
Kab bakshoge?
Kab nikloge mere sar se bahar?
Fuck Fuck Fuck

I want to leave this place.
Bahut ho gaya.
Bas !

Crazy Minds At Work

there are no options
the night is still young
memory about lost love is not good
i am not sure what i feel
i dont know what i did
pray that i dont regret it
am i supposed to say such things
and i cant stop thinking that
i am pyscho and bloody liar
and i need some ammo
i dont fucking know what to do
i start a new conversation
when others dry up
i make the rules
so shut up
coz you just got lucky baby

P.S. :- This poem is entirely made of lines i said to people while chatting with them last night. If it makes any sense to you please use the comments section to share your interpretation. If it does not make any sense please leave your email id in the comments section.

Question Answers

Q1. Why do we ask the questions we already know the answers to?
Q2. How do people still manage to give a different answer?
Q3. Why dont you ever believe what they say?
Q4. How do you start believing them?
Q5. Why do we ask again n again?
Q6. Why in the name of GOD?
(and last but not the least)
Q7. What the fuck?

Ans: The examiner has set the questions in the form of a Bloody inverted Pyramid.
Is he mad?
(...yup...)

What the fuck?
(being rhetorical eh?)


Ps :- The whole post resembles a glass of martini. Which i badly need.
Pps:- See i told you. Sab waisa sa hi hai.
Ppps:- This post would not have come up, but for some factors and... wait for it... outcomes.

Lets Sober Up

Its been a long long time. We were drunk like this for ages. The hope clouded our vision and the promises of a beautiful morning one day, had destroyed any trace of reason we could have used to save ourselves. The lemon twirls of false assurances hid the taste of the bitter liquor of what really was coming our way. Our steps got fuddled and we spoke a strange tongue. No one understood anyone. Everyone just smiled. Sang songs. Made merry.

But slowly a delirium is setting in. The psychedelic is changing into psychosis. The laughter that can be heard in the courtyard, is turning into cries of dreams being shattered against the hard walls of truth. Everyone is poking finger in their own puck and looking for that piece of luck that once was inside our guts. Too much hope, they say, fucks you up too much.

Lets wake up now, from this stupid dream to the nightmare we have created around ourselves. Coz we went to sleep when the promises were being made, coz we closed our eyes to the unfairness of the deal , we now have to save our souls from this mire of lies and deceit. Lets wake up to reality for just this once. Lets sober up to the truth.

Happy Birthday To Me :)

yup... lots of cakes coming up.

Because I love Comics.
Before blowing the candles... Prayer goes like this.

God ! you know what i want.

A cake and a cake kaatne wali.

Cake is a Lie in RED
The cake says Happy B'day Anthony.

So happy birthday to anthony too.

Thanks Everyone for tolerating me for 22 yrs.

I know sometimes it is hard.

But if you come to my home... i will treat you with a Cake...

But did someone say... cake is a lie.

Who could that be? beats me.

birthday mood is kicking in... so gudnyt.

Song of the Day :- Three little birds by Bob Marley.

Get this widget Track details eSnips Social DNA

PS: probably the song wont play. Something with esnips...

Tidbits

~<0>~

Pyar k is registan mein
Nazar aate ho ek mrig-trishna ki tarah
Chhoone ko haath aage kiya
To garam raet ungliyo se fisalti mehsoos hui

Bhatakta raahi hun, lekin kabhi kabhi
miljaate hain nishan
teri hond ke
aur apni bebasi ke

Kabhi suraj aur tapta din
Kabhi Chand aur sard raat
Humsafar to ye bhi nahi

dard bas ek aadat hai (haah !)

koi umeed nai (obviously)

lekin chaahat to hai (Fuck)

~<0>~

Black Magic eyes

She's gotta world to win
She's gotta world to fight
She's got the perfect weapon
Its her Black Magic Eyes


Coming soon... the eye witness account of the massacre.

~<0>~

You dont need vodka
You dont need beer
You dont need Scotch
You dont need cigarettes anymore

kyunki...

aarahe hain Krazzy 4...

~<0>~

Psychedelia

us din bilkul nai pi thi...
but maza bada aya tha...

you just have to think about her.


~<0>~

if nothing else i will start writing dialogues for b-grade movies.

"mera naam hai gulla"

gulla ki jaana main kaun...

~<0>~

Stop asking who/what RED is?
I wont tell
you wont get it
no point

~<0>~

Everyone has the right to his/her fucked up state.

~<0>~

b'day
exams
and RED

maza aayega

~<0>~

Neend kaisi aati hai?
Kabhi gehri kabhi uchti...



~<0>~

...Kubool hai...

~<0>~

Lessons in Cryptography

Code RED can not be broken

~<0>~

Neend...

नींद


जब तुम्हारी थकी थकी पलकें
बंद होकर खुलती हैं
जैसे नींद ने चौकठ से आवाज़ दी हो
और तुम, वापिस आई हो
मुझे बुलाने के लिए, सपनो की उस दुनिया में


होठो पे हरकत करती वो मंद सी मुस्कान
खींच लेती है मुझे
जैसे वादा कर रही है मुझसे कोई
और तुम, मेरे काँधे पर हाथ रखती हो
मुझे बुलाने के लिए, सपनो की उस दुनिया में


अधूरी रह जाती है मेरी कहानी हर रोज़
एक बंद कलम, एक अधूरे काग़ज़ पर
जैसे अधूरा होता हूँ में तुम्हारे बिना
और तुम, लिख देती हो मेरे हाथ पर अपना नाम
मुझे बुलाने के लिए, सपनो की उस दुनिया में