the rain the rain

bloggin after a really long time
cant even term this as an actual post
there is jst somethin in the air today
feel like mending severed frndships
confessing secrets kept for way too long
need to write, but jst cant find the words
inspite of all this
i strangely feel at peace with myself
its odd cause i never do

ps the title has nothing to do with the post, or does it? ok now im confusing myself!!!

Keyboard Symphony

I am rather musically un-inclined; I wouldn’t be able to carry a note even if I had a forklift. Musical terminology whizzes way above my head, to me the closest thing to a concerto would be a mass produced ice-cream cone, ‘A’ minor is one who is still under the sapling age of eighteen, and a conductor is nothing more than the crank selling bus tickets in the over crowded BEST buses. So now since the evidence has been presented, I am sure that there would be little opposition to the fact that I know squat about music. However this did not deter me from writing my own symphony.

2 am an unearthly time for me to be awake, as I was desperately coaxing myself to sleep, odd sounds kept meandering into my mind. All I could hear was the hum of fingers tapping away furiously on a keyboard interspersed with the timely click of the mouse. Soon this cacophony took shape and began to sound quite melodious – and voila the keyboard symphony was born. I made several attempts to peel myself off the pillow and write it down, but due to my sleep induced paralysis I could barely lift my head. So instead my mind raced ahead and jotted it all down in my mind to be reviewed by me in the morning when I was a little more conscious.

High noon, have a few vague memories of the so called symphony, two words were all the remnants of last nights escapade, the rest is a complete reconstruction – so bear with me as I present to you the Keyboard Symphony…

Fingers are poised in eager anticipation over the keyboard; the keys are waiting to compose sweet music. The infra red of the mouse flickers a bit in and then suddenly it all begins.

It starts of with a few taps of the alphabets a tappity tap, tippity tap tappitytippity tap followed by a mouse solo, a beautiful rendition of clicks backed up with the beat of the enter key.

Then the typing gains momentum, the tippity tap becomes faster…the rhythm is set by Ctrl C Ctrl X Ctrl V…the space bar provides the occasional pep to the symphony…soon all the keys are utilised, fingers caress all the keys, F2, F7 no key is spared…together they weave an orchestral wonder….then suddenly silence…

The computer has hung; an air of apprehension permeates the air…

The soft sound of esc pressed thrice breaks the silence, then the tapping becomes louder and the finger pound the keyboard. TAPPITY TAP TIPPITY TAPPITY TAP, the symphony begins to crescendo here…

CTRL ALT DEL
CTRL ALT DEL
CTRL ALT DEL

The computer reboots…the symphony ends…applause resonates in the hall...

Blog soul searching...

There are loads of things to write about, but somehow when I actually sit down to write something for this godforsaken blog, absolutely nothing comes to mind. So after about two hundred and twenty three attempts of making a path breaking blog post, realisation dawned upon me! If one was to read my blog (I mean I know no one wants, but in the freak case that someone does chance upon it and makes the mistake of reading it), they would realise that the blog has absolutely nothing of consequence on it! No substance, no depth, no meaning. So I have resolved to give my blog a sense of purpose, an identity! From now on the blog is no longer random ramblings of a nearly deranged mind. It shall contain something all three of my extremely bored readers can relate to. Posts will now contain rantings about the narmada bachao andolan or the mahajan shooting. On second thoughts, maybe I should continue writing about the inconsequential happenings in my life and the arbid thoughts that make their way into this little used mind. As purposeless and futile as it might be – it’s my blog and I shall do what I please with it…muahahahahaha! So till the next post (which will be quite soon, since I have reclaimed my status of having no life), cheers!

The Armchair

The creak of the door broke the silence. The silence had been deafening, it was driving him insane, but he did nothing about it. There wasn’t much he could have done. He just sat there draped over the armchair, motionless and limp. The armchair stood near the window, with its back facing the door. It desperately needed to be repaired, tattered at the arms, torn and stained almost everywhere else. It was too big for him, it engulfed him completely. Made him look even frailer than he actually was. All strength had left him. When he sat in that chair, he may have looked weak, but that is probably the only time he felt strong. It is the only time he felt he was invincible. Every time he sat in the chair the same images would come to his mind. They would play on endlessly. At first they were hazy and barely had any form – flashes off white, a clang of metal, smears of red, that’s all. Soon they took form; the sounds became clearer the flashes became a woman clad in a white uniform. The clatter of metal was now accompanied by the shrieks of a woman and maniacal male laughter. He could see the gashes made by the knife; he could see the blood running down her leg. He could feel her flesh and taste the tang of her blood. It was all very real. It was little too real, he could see life drain out of her, her limp body weighed down on his hand. As she grew weaker, he grew stronger. The images were becoming more vivid with every passing second. As the images became sharper, time inched by, the moon rose overhead and cast just enough light to illuminate his wrinkled face. The moonlight ignited the gleam in his eye which in turn flooded the entire room. His lips slowly curled upward in a wry smile, he gripped the armchair. The creak of the door broke the silence. The nurse walked in with his medicines. He knew what he had to do.

.....

Twenty one years and no change
Nothing has changed
All my life I have had them
Surrounding me, standing by me
My strength, my support, my family
Every scribble was art
Every word uttered poetry
They believed in me
Too bad they were the only ones
It happened a while ago
The world they had built up for me
Came crashing down
Reality had struck me hard
I was surrounded by the rubble of my reality
Piece by piece I re built my world
It will never match up it
To the world they had created for me
I stand here alone
I know what I’m capable of
They think they know my potential
The disparity between the two – vast
So now I am left to grapple with the harsh truth alone
Only I know my dirty secret
I am not half the person they think I am
But I can’t let them know that
I can just never let them know

The Wrong Road

I have reached the fork in the road. It’s the time to make a choice. I can see a path in front of me; I can’t take the first step on my journey. Maybe it’s because I am petrified of where it might take me. Maybe it’s because I know once I take this path, I have no choice but to keep walking. Or worst of all maybe because I know it’s the wrong path. I know I am not meant to be here. It’s not my place. I know it, I can feel it. But I see no other paths available. I see nothing but dead ends. I have to take the wrong road. A force compels me to travel. It’s what I have to do and that’s all I know. So I walk down this wrong road, in the hope that it takes me to the right place. The place where I am meant to be. The place I keep visiting in my mind. The place called happiness. I see happiness in shades of bright blue and white swirls. I feel happiness in a cool summer breeze carrying with it the tang of oranges. It’s where I need to be, even if it means I have to travel the wrong road to get there.

Ahem..

hunkelulsqio earurtuthunklulinungug!
i cusomume inun pupeacuse
tutakukmume tuto yuvourur luleaduderur

makes any sense?

it's time..

I think it is time to let go
I’ve held on to it for too long already
With every passing minute
It becomes tougher to let go
It’s time to move on
Life is waiting to be looked at differently
Ideas, notions, beliefs, perspectives
Are all yearning for a transformation
Immense change is on the cards
If there is one thing I hate…
It has to be change
Whether I like it or not
I think it is time to let go…

If men are from mars, let them stay there!

Please do not go by the title, I am not some man hating, aggressive feminist (though I have been called that quite a few times). I think I am more then justified to make that statement. For some odd reason, a telephonic conversation with a friend of mine (yes I really do need to stop wasting so much time on the blasted telephone) sparked off a series of memories which are in retrospect quite hilarious, but were quite traumatic when they occurred.

I have a few male friends, who are utter darlings and they always seem to be redeeming the male species in my eyes. Why does the male species need redemption in my eyes? This is probably due to a series of unconnected events over the past ten years, which has led me to think that some men are indeed from mars, and it would be much better for us all if they just remained there!

let us start in 1998, i was in the eighth standard, innocent, naive and of course terribly foolish! The msn of 98 was ICQ, and of course as usual the random weirdos did add you to their list. My stupidity was to send one such random weirdo (along with thirty others) a forward, which by some painful chance told the reader to send it to people they cared about. Apna ICQ hero, of course neglected the rest of the mail and focuses just on that sentence, I then get a longgggggg mail stating how glad he was that i finally admitted that i cared for him! As you can imagine, I spent the next year fretting and dealing with that situation rather badly, however that would be a separate blog post all together (will put the letter up, it was absolutely hilarious)!

Encounter with Martian number two, next year in a shady alley outside my school, scary looking half drunk boy (probably all of 15yrs old) comes up to me and asks me if i would make friendships with him (yes, this actually happened), i mumble something to the extent of my parents don’t approve and flee the dark alley! that was terribly handled situation number two!

As the years past, the creepiness got worse, the acquisition of a cell phone opened a whole new vista of creepiness! There was the one sms a day dude, i know that sounds harmless, and it was - everyday I got the same sms ":)" that’s it! of course to spice things up he also added the occasional " I saw you smiling the other day. keep smiling" messages. The advise was well taken, whenever I think of the message I cant help but smile (read: laugh my arse off)!

Then my personal favourite and by far the creepiest! i agree this was completely self inflicted and till this day I can’t believe my stupidity. Yes, those of you who know this - it is apna Rahul! The man who randomly dialled a number to make friends with a person , and of course he chanced upon my number (i mean the universe is out to get me!). after he told me this over the phone, i most obviously assumed it was some dumbass friend of mine who had nothing else to do! So i carried the joke on, little did i know that it was really a loser who randomly picks up chicks by dialling unknown numbers - Rahul plagued me for the next 4 months!

I could really ramble on, but this post has gotten too long and I really should get back to studying. So the next time I’m off on a tangent on why some men creep me out, please remember there is a reason for everything. So till my next tirade keep smiling :)

Happiness-Anger-Pain-Death-Freedom

Do not be fooled by the title, it may give the post an aura of being highly philosophical, deep and soaked with meaning – but is nothing of the sort – read on at your own risk…

The above probably doesn’t make any sense to you, does it now? Well, honestly it makes little sense to me too. Its one of those things which just pops into your head at 11:24pm and forces you to make a connection. The ramblings of an extremely bored mind is what I call it. A little tip to all those even more bored people reading this – ones mind is an extremely powerful tool. It is under no circumstances to be taken lightly. If you are enjoying a peaceful evening at home and whiling away time, it will spring into action and force you to ponder over something as meaningless as a random string of words. However much to my dismay, unlike a nagging parent, an irritable spouse or an annoying offspring- your mind can not be ignored. The only way to silence is to actually make sense of its nonsensical ramblings. So without further ado, let me put my mind at ease and unravel the mystery of these five rather stochastically chosen words.

Let us take a rational and scientific approach to decipher this mystery. Empirical findings prove that there is 98.56% probability that there is actually a method to the madness. Science breaks down the phrase into its basic elements and puts them under the microscope. In fact if you were to take the first letter of each word, you would get…HAPDF, which means absolutely nothing. Alright, maybe the rational approach to decipher my rather irrational mind wasn’t the best idea.

There is a high possibility that it is relating a story to me. That’s sounds far more plausible then my HAPDF theory. Maybe its warning me against getting a pet of some kind. Though the initial happiness maybe immense, it will only lead to anger and pain – and I shall only get freedom after death, its or mine – which ever comes first. That too is a bit unlikely since my mind has already made sure that I will never adopt an animal by creating all sorts of phobias against them.

Then the next one is probably a warning for future. I may need to use the bathroom urgently and as the pressure builds on my bladder coupled with the non-availability of finding adequate facilities – all happiness fades away. When I do spot an available facility, the anger comes rushing in as someone beats me to it. The pressure is now too much to bear; it forms stitches in my side and results in searing pain. The pain is so awful that the only way out seems to be death – just then I find a vacant cubicle…and freedom…

<>I see you didn’t enjoy my bathroom prediction. Fine, maybe my mind isn’t going to keep me busy with deciphering something as banal as regularising my bathroom habits. Maybe, there is something far more philosophical and deeper to it. Maybe they aren’t just any random five words. Perhaps, they contain the essence of life as I know it. If I embrace happiness and kill my feelings of pain and anger it will lead to spiritual freedom. Nah! My mind isn’t that prolific either…lets not give it too much credit.<>Now that I have exhausted all sensible theories (and the nonsensical ones too), I have narrowed it down to two possibilities, HAPDF and my mind wanted me to actually write this essay. Could it be? Was the ultimate aim this piece of writing? Is this the reason my mind conjured up those string of words? I do believe I have successfully unravelled the mystery. We can now all be at ease, the world has been averted from a disaster it wasn’t a secret encoded message for world domination from Martians. The sole purpose was to write this literary masterpiece…umm…on second thoughts I think I will go with the HAPDF theory….

Blogblogblogaaaaaah!!

I have recently stumbled upon the zion-like world of blogging. I am desperately trying to grasp the complexities which go hand in hand with this new discovery. I was staring at the ticker on blogger.com which tells you which sites were updated at that very minute (yes, I know, I don’t have much of a life), and I was positively shocked by the sheer number of blogs being updated. I mean there are millions of people just waiting to connect with each other! As you have already probably gathered compared to the rest of you i am indeed a bit of a blog retard (though I prefer to be referred to as blog challenged), I am yet to learn the proper blogging etiquette - does one necessarily reply back to all comments? is it rude to visit a blog and not comment? for now though, let us leave all these trivial yet perplexing issues aside for a moment - what i really need to know is whether fellow more experienced bloggers write for themselves, for other bloggers or basically people they already know...the questions however are infinite, till I get some answers I shall sit here and stare at the blogger.com ticker and maybe I will stumble upon a blog which answers all these queries (I’m sure there at least 42 blogs already existing)....gahhhhhhh!!

Ok then

Ok then.
The blog seems to have been getting progressively heavier.
The sarcasm and wit have apparently disappeared.
This cannot last for long.
I think its time for the humour to flow.

Water Anyone??

A month ago, in joke me and a friend of mine, started this theory that water would soon be sold in the black market. You would soon have people similar to drug peddlers, called water peddlers standing on the corners of run down alleys, trying to merge into the background. And everytime you pass, they would mutter to you under their breath, sau ka do (translation: two buckets of water for a hundred bucks). Kickbacks would be offered in the form of one hot water shower or ten litres of unadulterated drinking water. We spent the whole evening in splits, constructing this seemingly absurd theory. Now, the joke is literally on me. My building for some reason (the universe is out to get me) has suffered an acute water shortage. Buckets of water are actually being sold at obscenely high rates, tempers are flying, there are water brawls occurring every minute, hoarding of water is escalating the price and tempers even higher. It is a royal mess.

How is my dysfunctional family dealing with this? Well, one member has fled the scene while another is spending his time trying to map out the water pipe connections of the locality. High horsepower pumps are now the central topic of discussion. The washing machine lies silent, no food is being cooked, no vessels are being washed, plants are withering away. Soon, the water shall flow from the tap, the plants will be brought to life, the washing machine will be spinning out of control and I will be returning from Pune. Adios people!

The Curse of Mediocrity

I think I am cursed. It is the curse of mediocrity.
I would rather be terrible at something then mediocre.
Ordinary acts are forgotten, they just fade into oblivion.
Sometimes mediocre is all you can get, ordinary is all you are.
The worst part however, is not being forgotten.
It’s that maddening feeling which corrodes you mentally,
every time you feel you are about to break that barrier.
Cross that line which divides the average from the brilliant.
There are times when brilliance is staring right at you.
You reach out to it, you can almost touch it.
You try and try and try, but you never do.
Frustration begins to consume your very being.
You try to fight it but you can’t.
Soon, frustration wins and takes over.
That’s when you accept mediocrity
and never come near brilliance again.

Why bother??

I was a dreamer. I used to think that was a good thing. I was always that all great things begin with a dream. With that thought in my heart I allowed myself to continue to dream. I dreamt up all sorts of wonderful events. This made me realise that life offers endless opportunities and if you really want them badly enough you can achieve whatever you set your mind to. Now this is where my problem begins. I don’t want anything that badly, I don’t believe in anything passionately enough; I have no goal for which I am willing to sacrifice my all. I am not motivated by anything; I am not driven by any kind of force. No inspiration, no inclination, no motivation…so why bother to dream!

The Saga Begins

Those of you who read my blog (yes all three of you) will be verry happy to know that i will no longer be posting any more inane movement manifestos on my blog. You will be glad that the escapades of bhatavdekar and rithambara are no longer goin to grace my blog - they have found a new home. A place meant solely for them,

www.unstable-minds.blogspot.com/

The Movement?

Bhatavdekar and Rithamabara the movement? A comment from bhatavdevkar of bhatavdekar and rithambara fame, suggestin that we start a movement, somethin on the lines of the beat mvmt or like dadaism - this once again got me thinkin of the possibilty of startin a mvmt! actually recently (thanks to these blasted exams) it dsnt take much for me to begin thinkin about obscure things like this when i shld be focusing a little more of my attention on the all important exams! Any way now that i have deviated enough it is time for me to get back to discussing our future movement! Several hours were spent on the kind of movemnet it shld be, reformist, revolutionarty? what are cause shld be? whether we shld wear superhero like leotards and dash across the city spreadin our yet to be decided to message?

then finally we hit upon it, Bhatavdekar would have a large 'B' on her costume, i(rithambara) would have a large 'R' on mine and then we wld con some unsuspectin fool to wear an 'A', after rechristenin the poor soul somethin equally (if not more) ridiculous (any volunteers??) Together we would be part of the B - R - A movement, campaigin for the right for movement! Its time to do away with these restrictions, why shld we be strapped down by society in this ruthless manner! In due course the manifesto will take form, the logo shall be designed and the movement shall grow...sign up now, before we forget all about it!

Disclaimer: The views expressed in the above post are the rantings on an extremely unstable mind, which in five yrs time wld probably need severe institutional help, so till then pls do not give much importance to the inane chatter which goes on in the unstable mind, which rithamabara insists on postin on the blog - no sentiments were meant to be hurt durin the makin of this post, all characters are purely fictitious and exist only in the deep depths of this unstable mind. Thank thee!

Fraandships!

this post is a result of a small online conversation i had with this friend of mine. in the course of our conversation he harmlessly asked whether i was 'excited' about valentines day. Now please note those of u who dnt know me, you shld kno that not only am i very much single but absolutely detest the concept of this over commercialised and over hyped day! so after my frnd asked what he thought was a seemingly innocent question i went on about how in my very strong opinion that this day had very little significance in my life and hence there was nothin much to get excited about! in response to this, either to calm me down or to irritate me more ( i think its the latter) he went on to tell me how i never knew what was in store, it was quite likely that someone would come up to me in college and tell me that hes been admiring me for the past two years. This got me thinkin, if ever on valentines day (or any other day for that matter) some arbid random boy comes up to me and tells me that hes been 'admiring' me for the past TWO years and that he wants to makes fraandships with me, i wld firstly run away as fast as my little feet can carry me and more importantly you can be sure of that im probably goin to detest valentines day even more than i do now...!

Ofcourse

i cant spell
punctuation has no meanin
thoughts do not flow
'ofcourse' peppers the whole write up
guess that book will have to wait

The Chronicles of Bhatavdekar and Rithambara

That my friends is the title of my first book. dont worry i am not goin to venture on this suicide mission on my own, me and this moronic frnd of mine (moronic bcoz she wld have to be pretty supid to write a book in collaboration with me!!!) have decided to write a book in the form of various telephonc conversations with eachother. she will be called dulandhar bhatavdekar and me - ma prem rithambara (i am still reelin from the mild heart attack i got when i read this womans name in the newspaper - yes someone is actually named that!!)...
anyway our conversations would be extremely rude, totally politically incorrect and ofcourse side spittingly funny. this ofcourse would mean that our book would be banned in most countries, but would thrive in the gray market - we would both be ex-communicated from our respective religions and families and some fanatical group would probably issue a fatwa or somethin like close to that - however the millions we make should keep us happy. though we would but obviously be scarred by the emotional trauma we go through in the process (the millions would help at this point) - we shall channelise it and use it to write our next book - from prison ofcourse...so ladies and gentlemen - in the summer of 2007 please dont forget to pick up your own copy of the chronicles pf bhatavdekar and rithambara...

Darkness...

Not even the slightest hint of light
Darkness everywhere you look
In the distance you hear sweet humming
The humming of a girl no older than four
You walk towards the humming
The lilting music guides you to her
You can now hear your own footsteps
But you still see nothing

Minutes pass
Your pace quickens
The humming gets nearer
Sweat starts to trickle down your face
Tears stream down your face
You can feel the cold
But you still see nothing

The humming now melts into the babbling of a rivulet
Water flows by your hand
A breeze caresses your face
Mud is pressed between your toes
A sudden calm has set
You still see nothing

The water turns warm
The breeze dry and scorching
The mud burns the soles of your feet
The temperature rises
You soon feel nothing but the searing heat
Suddenly you see a light

The light gets brighter
The surrounding get hotter
The light is now blinding
You clench eyes shut praying it will go away
When you open them it has
There is darkness everywhere you look
In the distance you can hear faint humming
But you see nothing

Dream...

Dream

It starts with a wonder

Then it grows with possibility

Illusions spiral higher

Expectations rise

Then it all comes crashing down

That’s where reality lies

correction

did i say one whole sentence? i obviously meant seven words masquerading as a three sentence even though rules of syntax would forbid it! so technically there isnt even one WHOLE sentence, damn u syntax - damn u!

blog??

i have a blog? was doin some general surfing online (main aim was to avoid studyin for the too close for comfort exams) and i realised i had a blog. i was also quite amused to see i had actually posted ONE WHOLE SENTENCE on it! so have decided to take the iniative and write some more, or atleast write somethin! so this time i hope not to forget, will generally write - im probably the first 'blogger' who is ever goin to say this, but this blog is really not gonna keep u entertained much, its goin to be rambling abt life and how the universe is out to get me - so if ur life is as dull as mine then please come and read my blog - but it case u actually have a somethin remotely close to that thing pple call a life - go enjoy and live - dnt waste time on my blog!!!

PS. This and post titled 'correction' were mysteriously deleted from my blog...i told u the universe is out to get me

i give up!

i hate technology
a man made hell
we give all we have
serenade the comp
dedicate our lives to it
then in repayment
it re boots

Hunan Chicken and Chapatti

one really does strange things for family. things they never would have ever imagined doin otherwise. i dnt think its love that makes us do these incredibly idiotic acts - i am still in the process of figurin out why we do the silly things we do..
maybe its to avoid argument, maybe its for the 21 years u have lived with eachother, maybe u jst cnt say no to those misty eyes lookin back at u...there is some kind of force which compels you to do these things - well maybe not, whatever it is - it made me eat hunan chicken and chapatti for lunch - id do anythin for those misty eyes, so i guess hunan chicken and chapatti isnt all that bad...