Tuesday, April 29, 2008


How I wish to have known you lady?

All I think has your shades cravy......

Sometimes I doubt my state of mind.

Am I in it or have lost it in the time gone by....

Why is that happening to me?

Sheer purgatory, really and not a lame excuse.

Why am I feeling servile without you??

are you the consolation that a weak mind brewed??

Where are you taking me O God??

Will I ever find her?Please do nod..

Whatever and whenever, ready I will always be..

Merry it should be when I and the orchid dance in glee...

A letter to my mom.

Dear mom,
I think you probably know what I feel. But I just feel like saying it. I know I have been a worthless pain for you many times. Although you claim that I am your bundle of joy, I can tell you the innumerable number of times I have fallen short of your definition. I have come with a huge cost and I don’t know if I’ll be able to live up to your standards. I now realise how difficult it would have been to sacrifice your career and your youth to bring up some worthless thing like me. I remember very well being a bad kid with all sicknesses that kept you and me awake on many nights. I also repent all the occasions when I got into a street kid brawl and you bore the brunt of the other parent’s anger. I am also ashamed by my gradual decline in academics over the years. I know I kept you in the dark about my academics in college. I regret having ever done that as an adult. I have hidden many things that I did which I deem unsuitable for you to know. They are the things that you didn’t teach me and did not endorse. But as you have taught me, I have asked for strength from God to overcome that and am still trying to repent. Mom, it is really hard to learn something myself. I miss you every moment that I am alone on this big wide world. I miss you when I feel like bashing up someone that I hate and don’t find you around to protect me. Mom, this world is a wicked place full of bad people. I struggle to accept this world the way it is. This is not home. This is not where my heart is. I cannot understand why time has to move on.
Mom, I hate it when you ask me to grow up. I don’t like it when you want me to realise that I am a man now. I want to always remain your naughty little brat. You don't know how much I hate myself when I call you up and cry. I know I have been a cry baby all my life. But I am surely trying my best as you always wanted me to, but the world outside always beats me down. I feel most bliss when I am in your presence. I miss home mom.
I still feel that a fighter lives in me. I promise you that I will fight to grow up and do justice to all that you put in, the effort and all the sacrifices that you have made for your little man. I love you.

Sunday, April 20, 2008


The stupid ass that I am, I didn’t know that good movies such as this one existed. I am talking about “Love actually”. The stupid ass has still not seen the full movie though. He just chanced upon it through the favourite videos section of one of his friends in orkut and saw the Dido song, ‘Here with me’. She actually seems to have some really romantic stuff in her collection. Then I went and checked out the storyline in Wikipedia. This movie seems to be a collection of different stories, most of which didn’t really interest me. This was partly because of the heart warming experience that I had relating to this one particular story involving three characters Juliet, Peter and Mark.

Herewith I am pasting the storyline that I picked up from the Wiki.

“Juliet and Peter are wed in a lovely ceremony videotaped by Mark, Peter's best friend and best man. When the professional wedding video turns out to be dreadful, Juliet shows up at Mark's door in hopes of getting a copy of his footage, despite the fact that he has always been cold and unfriendly to her. The video turns out to consist entirely of close-ups of her, and she realizes that he is secretly in love with her. Mortified, Mark explains that his coldness to her is "a self-preservation thing" and excuses himself. On Christmas Eve, Mark shows up at Juliet and Peter's door posing as a carol singer with a portable CD player, and uses a series of cardboard signs to tell her that "at Christmas you tell the truth", yet, "without hope or agenda... to me, you are perfect." As he leaves, Juliet runs after Mark to give him a kiss and a sweet, sympathetic embrace, before returning to Peter. Mark tells himself, "Enough, enough now," perhaps acknowledging that it's time to move on with his life”.”

I watched this video at 3 in the morning after another frustrating day of failed study attempts. But this video gave me a kind of feel good factor that prompted me to write this blog. The reason for my instant liking to this video is this term ‘self preservation’. This acknowledges a man’s weakness for love and explains his controlled treatment of it that comes through experience and worldly wisdom. It also potrays the man’s confidence in life and strength to accept the truth. He thereby takes an effort to hide his inherent weakness and not lose his own self respect.I recall a quote from the legendary deaf mute icon, Helen Keller, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.” This man realises that the lady he loves is his friend’s wife. He loves her and secretly admires her but comes across to her as someone unpleasant so as to hide his real emotions.

Man, this is one awesome plot and touches my heart as I could somehow relate to it. I also was amazed at the use of the words, ‘without a hope or agenda’. Well they were truly depictive of gentlemanly love which is pure, honest, practical and beautiful. I was wondering for a few days now if it is okay to express your appreciation for human beauty. But now I’ve realised that your appreciating it adds more beauty to it and a world of good to our personality for it removes secrecy and falsity in our minds. It is just about speaking our minds and I am doing it nowadays. But the catch of this situation is the strength of a man’s character where he transforms his words, “ enough, enough now” into actions.One must know where to draw the lines and I am sure it is very difficult. But again CHARACTER is the name of the process. I am sure it is possible although difficult.

It is 3:42 here is London and I am supposed to be studying. Never mind. Hats off to the guy who made the movie. It should be awesome. The stupid ass should try and watch it when he gets time.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Is love beautiful?

Is Love beautiful? Well for some lucky ones it is. But for some , it can be the most excruciating pain that the world can imagine. It can hurt you, dismantle you, disintegrate you, disfigure you, topple you, remake you, and eventually scare you about you connection with the world,literally killing you. I am not open to the idea of conveying my feelings for a girl because, I know it will pain me immensely if she kindly refuses. But the more fearful feeling inside me is the feeling of helplessness that I may go through when someone tells me how they'd love to love me. What if the my bell doesnt strike for that person who thinks the world about me. I dont want to sacrifice my dreams and give life to someone else's dreams. I am no Jesus Christ. The whole idea of rejection itself is terribly discomforting. I think it pains to be rejected and know that you dont matter.It pricks to know that somebody that you want doesnt need you.It scars your heart and mind when you realise that for some people your existence doesnt matter. They will lead on their glass house lives with as much grace as there ever was. It hurts to know that you are one among their mighty ocean of lovers.Well ,Is there really a fault with somebody here? Putting myself at both the places, I realised that there is something wrong in the way we are made.There are either too many of us or too few of us. There is an innate flaw in our personalities that urges us to feel wanted by selected nature and forms of human beings. It contradicts with the urge to want certain or few delightful people and not want the rest that dont soothe our senses.But what watches over the peaceful co-existence of these two contradicting traits is still mystery to me. Whatever it is , Love still boggles me and never ceases to hasten me towards more of the above mentioned mishaps. God save me.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

What are you ?

I may not get you,
I even don't know if I deserve you.
you seem to be made of something regal,
I feel like a scribbling by someone frugal.

You the wind cruise in all splendor,
appreciation from the storm, destructive in me deep under.
You thrash me hard wicked, cruel angel,
try I did my luck in life, that rare little drizzle.

stop soothing my eyes at all the right places,
quit pinching my sick little heart, fed up of of races.,
cease mocking my existense, leave me atleast the traces.

I am sorry, I really dont know what you are.Leave me alone.hehehehe

Self photography

This blog post is in no means related to the image in display. The guy in the pic is my friend Ajmal.
Why are some people so in love with their selves? They click pictures them selves and put it up on the web so that people can see their beauty. Not that these people are really worth seeing. The really beautiful girl I know (I don’t know if she knows me) doesn’t have a picture in her orkut album. The display picture is sufficient to attract enough attention to keep her happy for at least now. She is inspired enough to make herself more beautiful so that guys have a tough chore keeping their eyes away from her. She is spoiling the most important year of my life with her attractiveness quotient. Here is this girl that I know who has at least 10 pictures of hers in various poses in her orkut profile. She isn’t very good looking at least to my trained eyes. But she is confident enough to display herself like the beauty queen who endorsed a diamond brand with hair spreads and false smiles. But why is she so particular about her photos. What is her logic? Does she think that the album is meant for that? Or whatever! But if women are so infested with the good looks bug, what is wrong with the men now? I know a guy with sufficient intelligence to make it to big places but has a mind not sufficient to estimate his own looks. He recently joined a revolutionary group at the Y who vowed to get back in shape. He was so overjoyed at his body’s response and treated himself to a self photograph session. I wonder how he did that with his primitive mobile camera. But his hour of vanity gave him one shot which he thought was worth sharing. It is up on his album nowadays. I don’t want to comment on the way he looks. But it just proves that people at the high places are in fact human at the most basic level and need as much attention as a ordinary mortal.
Introspection: If somebody is wondering what kind of a person I am , then ....

i am thinking.

My two minute ambrosia..

Well, I just finished my two minute lunch that cost me a pound and nine pence. Not a bad deal considering the fact that I had to shell out 50 pence to empty my lemonade for 20 seconds last week, at Oxford Street. It was one strange occasion in life when I anticipated controlled fun times and instead got entangled in a mesh of events over which I had no control of. I and my friend Bhaumik went chick seeing to its haven called Oxford Street. The scientist that he is, he terms London as “The city of enchanting babes”. We had decided to do more of mouth opening and less of purse opening. We go there occasionally to exercise our Cheeks which were becoming chubbier by the day, thanks to the YMCA dining hall, where the average time one spends per meal is 43 minutes. It is indeed a good way to ameliorate the cheek bones because the wide varieties of reasons definitely leave you open mouthed in aweeeeeee. Our sixth sense soon realises the location and commands the jaws to be closed only to be opened again soon. But the long road that Oxford Street is, we are assured of a good workout at the end of it, the Marble arch.
Well now in the middle of WHSmith, I realised that I had something filled up. The feeling of discomfort was mounting that eventually led me to find a way out. I miss Delhi where most of the malls have nice green, blue toilets and you are free to use it. I miss Allahabad where you are free to use any wall, green, blue or yellow without an iota of expense (mental and monetary). I expected something better in London and went about looking for it. In the heat of the moment, I saw a fairly decent looking toilet and didn’t mind dropping the 50 pence that was the cost of entry into an Oxford street mall toilet. Inside the wash room were grey metal basins where you empty yourself in front of few other males who don’t bother to see. (Thankfully for them, another depressing scene).They were strangely playing George Michaels “careless whispers”,in the toilet which left a stupid loser-like feeling in me about the whole 50 pence thing. I miss India. Shucks. 50 pence man! 40 rupees for a loo visit? I couldn’t take it. When I was coming out of the toilet, there was this Italian looking dude, who was letting in a few girls through the exit door which when fiddled with can easily let you into the washroom. Oh my god, why didn’t I get this idea? Anyways what else could be done? In retrospect, what were my other options? May be behind the roadside shop keeper between Swarovski and Next could have been a better option? What if I was caught? Or what if I was found and chased and humiliated at the middle of my act. Leave it. 50 pence well spent. Just when I was concluding, bhaumik coolly shows me the McDonalds in the mall, saying that it could have been another option. Well! I always hated science because scientists are unsmart people. He had seen it before, but decided that I would not like to use an unpaid public toilet. Huh! Am I some ******* or something? Yes I am.
My lunch today was the three bean slice from Sainsbury’s. It reminds me of kachodi and sabzi that we used to have in Allahabad. I used to love it when we missed breakfast in the hostel and walked down to Rampal hi dukhan to have kachodi and cholle. We had about 6, 7 each and then wash it down with 2, 3 cups of hot special chai. The rounded off bill comes up to about 12-15 rupees.(15 pence). This made in Great Britain three bean slice has a kachodi like covering and some rajma and something dripping with some kind of puree. I love it for it being hot and bringing me pleasant memories. Thinking of food in Allahabad, I cant forget the other superstars, mathin bhai, Chungi ke khan chacha, dhandi ke dhaba and the others. But this small little piece of three bean slice offers me a namesake meal plus reduced craving(supposedly) through till dinner. I am seriously overweight now and got pissed off recently when a terrible rascal said it was showing in my face nowadays, although he was the rotten dickhead who looks like a sucked banana retrieved from a corporation(Do they have one??) ditch in downtown Allahabad.(whatever). So, here is praying that my new favourite lunch meal will help me reduce a bit of weight and (((Oh what the fuck, I have got my exams stacked up in May and its 8 th of April, and what fucking rights do I have to sit down and pen down a blog))).Bye.