Death!

Death don’t mind, if I stared at you face.

You sometimes take the ones, who were not supposed to go yet.

And sometimes leave the ones, who long for it.

Is it a plan, you have ; Or is it,  just, a whim of yours.

 

There’s not much I hold against you,

But, sometimes, the ways you choose to do it.

Are some meant to die young and painfully?

What one could do, to annoy you so!

And will you mind, if I stared at your face?

 

When you are about to put your cold hand,

And take the life away;

Do you stare them in disdain, for the mistakes they made.

Or do you look into their eyes, and say “I understand!”

 

Someday you will come for me,

I don’t know if I will be ready.

But the pain you have made me go through.

Death! Don’t mind, if I stared at your face

The Grass is green on either side.

The boredom in an engineering college makes you do stuff you wouldn’t do in a medical college, because in a medical college there’s stuff to keep your mind occupied, specially the ones in salwar kameez.

Engineering is a bad choice in first place. Anything that slims your possibility of getting laid and procreating, once you are physically able to, is surely a bad choice. And an engineering college, compared to any other college, practically nadir’s it.

Only if Homo Sapiens were hermaphrodites, things would have been so utterly peaceful, awesome and…lets not digress.

First year in an engineering college passes fine, courtesy combined classes, as there are subjects (I mean girls) which attract your attention, some even demand it.

From second year things start getting hairy, especially if you are a mechanical engineer. Now subjects are found only in canteens and there too they are surrounded by chapters (boys…mostly non-mechanical). Now what else is a guy supposed to do? Study? LOL.

By third year you start doubting your sanity. You realize that getting laid is not an option anymore, because girls either turn around or start fumbling in their purse for a supposed vicious spray attack, at the mere sight of you. I fancied, sometimes, that they turned around to check their hair or fumbled in their purses to look for a pen to note my number, but I came to my senses when a girl in a group picked up a stone and stared at our group with menacing eyes. The novice optimist inside me looked for stray dogs around, but realised we were the only supposed canines in the vicinity.(may be a couple of us were salivating…but a stone..give me a break.)

That very day the rock in her hand became the allegorical stepping stone of my life. I knew, then and there, I had to do something with my life. Since getting laid was not an option anymore and I was not turning any gayer(in both senses.), I started hating SRK and his dream colleges some more. Hating SRK some more was a relief for few days.

But the boredom set in again. Since going to college was not even considered an option, we had no other option. Beating the bishop was also no more fun after few times a day, not for the bishop at least. So what else could a young man do? BC had lost its initial my-jokes-are-better-than-yours kick. And anyhow there was no point in impressing another pair of balls by ones BC.

I started reading books, when suddenly, one day, I realized this is not why i went to college : to gain knowledge. One went to a college to get a job, in the future. Not to study and be a nerd in the present. I had to get my priorities straight.

So I started looking around for happy faces around, wondering a happy face might hold the key to dispense boredom. I found none. Actually I found three, they had found refuge in – books, beer and banalities – all three of which gave me terrible hangovers.

But as every dark cloud has a silver lining, mine had too. One day out of the blue, I met a junior who was a senior in the matters of mother nature.

I met the junior at a tea stall. He was sitting on a chair all by himself and was literally indulged in his samosa. He could also not wipe the most benign smile off his face while devouring the deep-fried-wonder. I wondered for a moment if I was seeing some audition for a new age Krishna crazy about samosas. It was cathartic ( I’m sure I did not know what “Catharsis” meant then, but I felt it anyways). I was mighty glad to see a fellow human being take so much interest in a samosa nobody else thought was even edible.(we knew the samosas were Kaka’s fly distractants.)

I asked my junior the secret behind his godly countenance, and he said its natural. On further nudging he told me its grass. I tried to laugh, but I could not, may be I had forgotten how to. So I nudged further and he told me he knew a very natural secret to instill the lost glory of the long forgotten days. The innocent glory of childhood. He promised he could make us smile again. ASAP I became his disciple and took an appointment, eager to know the secret.

I fixed a date and with two of my how-I-wish-I-could-smile-again batch mates, went on the mission to embrace smile.

We were excited for the first time in years.

On the appointed day and time, three of us knocked the door of promises. Our juniour opened the door with the same benign smile, asked us to sit and made a joint of something very similar to what looked like grass. He said whoever smoked it joined to the one consciousness and that’s why he called it the “Joint of brotherhood”

We brothers sat and smoked. We waited. We waited for something to happen. Nothing happened. The clock ticked away the minutes. We grew impatient first, and then frustration surfaced again. Our junior asked us to be patient. Subtlety is the way of mother nature, he said. A rose does not become impatient to become a rose. And if we waited few more minutes, we would bloom like roses. So we waited.

After few minutes something started happening. We started smiling. One felt like flying. Sooner we were all laughing. We laughed our hearts out. One flew his wings to bones.

We were happy, as happy as when we were kids.

We were happy for no reasons, we laughed for no reasons.

We had found a reason to live. And smile. Colours now had a vibrant texture, music had a new dimension, every banality had a new meaning.

Finally, the grass was a radiant green on either side.

TEKKEN LIFE

“ TEKKEN LIFE” is a tribute to the video game “Tekken” and three spiritual teachers. I have utmost respect for the three guys (Buddha, Jiddu and Osho) and , for that matter, you too (excluding the times when you scratch your balls in public). So if anything sounds mean, it isn’t supposed to be so. Logically, I could easily get away making fun of the three than others. Because (their)greatness lies in understanding and forgiving. A God whom one can piss off by saying or doing something, is not worthy being one. Its only us mortals who get all riled up at stuff, the gods smile upon. So read and smile(please…it took me three days to write this stuff) and forgive.

 

TEKKEN LIFE

Mr. Rajneesh “OSHO”     VS    Mr. Jiddu Krisnamurty “K”

Refree : Mr. Buddha

ROUND 1

3

2

1

FIGHT

 

Osho advances towards Jiddu, and is about to throw a sucker punch at him.

Buddha : Don’t fight!

Osho : What???

Buddha : Don’t fight.

Osho : What crap? If you don’t want us to fight then why the hell you became a refree? Who send you?

Buddha : No one send me.

Osho : But then who told you, me and Jiddu were going to fight here?

Buddha : No one told me. I’m enlightened. I know everything.

Osho : How is that possible?

Buddha : You should know that. You said you were enlightened too.

(The claim of being enlightened puts Osho in deep thought. He thought he was enlightened too but this was not the way he felt like. He felt confused, so he turned to Jiddu for reassurance.)

Osho : Jiddu, Are you enlightened? Do you know everything?

Jiddu : Am I enlightened? Do I Know everything? It does not matter whether I’m enlightened or I know everything. What matters is : What you think enlightenment is and whether you really want to know everything and whether you…

Osho : Sorry Jiddu, but have you always been like this.

Jiddu : Like what?

Osho : Vague like this.

Jiddu : You don’t want me to be vague? You want someone to provide you the answers? Will someone elses answers find you, your own truth? Is it possible? You think so?

Osho : Jiddu I’m still as confused as few lines before.

Jiddu : If you really want to know the answers to your questions, we can observe the problem together, as it is, without judging it being good or bad and try to go to the root of it.

Osho : Jiddu, if you are forgetting we did not come here to go to the root of a problem together but to FIGHT TOGETHER. Buddha, what are we supposed to do now?

Buddha : Meditation?

Jiddu : Yes. That’s a good idea.

Osho : I’m asking about the Fight. What are we supposed to do about the fight?

Buddha : Why you so insist on Fighting?

Osho : Insist on fighting. What is this life but an endless fight. Fight for your rights, fight with your boss, fight with your colleagues, fight with your juniors, fight for your wife, fight with your wife, fight for every-effing-thing. Everybody is send here to fight. That’s karma. To fight. Don’t you guys know about Krishna and his thoughts.

Buddha : Yes I read that on Facebook “Krishna’s thoughts”. It was a nice article.

Osho : What Krishna’s thoughts you are talking about?

Jiddu : You haven’t read the article “Krishna’s thoughts”. That’s why you so insist on fighting.  It’s by Piyush Saklani. I think he is a Tibetan monk, he looks like one.

Buddha : No he is not a Tibetan monk, he is just a Tibetan looking confused Indian soul. Poor him, a waste of talent like all others : still chasing tails.

Osho : What have we gotten ourselves into. We came here for something positive. Something creative. We came here to fight. What about the fight?

Buddha : Why you so insist on fighting?

Osho : Buddha, you see with pains I managed to get Jiddu to fight me. He agreed that if this fight meant so much to me, then he would come fight and loose.

Buddha : But why does this fight mean so much to you?

Osho : Because we are born to fight. Born to prove we are the best. Born to win and all that stuff.

Buddha : You know, all that doesn’t matter.

Osho : You mean to tell me  that when one has 99 Rolls Royce in one’s collection(all gifted, mind you) and one wants a 100^th one, just for century’s sake. You mean to tell him..its all in vain..and all of that doesn’t matter. You know how much popular you have to be to be able to pull that off?

Buddha : More than 9.13 on a scale of 1 to 10 for popularity in the Milky way galaxy.

Osho : You see. And I achieved that. Jiddu, were you able to score more than 9.13.

Jiddu : It doesn’t matter whether I scored more than that. What matters is did you really wanted to score more than 9.13?

Osho : Jiddu sometimes I wonder did you ever get laid. It is fun imagining a girl asking you the favour. And you going “Do you really want it, will it make you happy, will it answer the eternal question?” Yes the hell it answers the eternal question.

Buddha : And how is that?

Osho : See me!!! I got material, immaterial, physical, non-physical, spiritual every pleasure imaginable. To top all that, and for the helI of it I even went to jail once. You see I am the original “ Been there, Done that” “ “Dude”. Can you beat that?

Jiddu : But how all of that makes you feel now?

Osho : GRRRREEAAT!!!

Jiddu : That’s good if you really feel so.

Osho : Umm…to tell you the truth…not always..specially when I’m alone…sometimes I feel awful…only sometimes though.

Jiddu : You want to do something about it?

Osho : Like what? Tranquilizers?

Buddha : No. Meditation.

Jiddu : Yes. Meditation.

Osho : Will that help?

Jiddu/Buddha : It helped us.

Osho : Okay! Let’s do it! But Jiddu, don’t forget the fight “Thereafter”. LOL, just kidding. How do I sit to meditate, enlighten me you guys.(And winks)

Everybody smiles and starts meditating.

THE END

Time machine and the coolest dude ever

 

I sometimes think and often dream about time machines. The concept is fascinating and opens a plethora of possibilities. For example, one can go back in time to the night when Hitler’s parents are going to conceive Hitler and present his dad a rubber (may be stand there and make sure he uses it) OR one can travel in the time machine to the future, take a walk in the futuristic streets, be awe-mused, check out I-phone 1023.2(never buy one…always Samsung), check out games on PS79, then buy the-best-futuristic-rubber, go back in time to the same night to Hitler’s dad and do the same routine. Just to be sure, for Hitler was a stubborn bugger.

Well some hard-core pacifist might do that, but not me. I don’t have such grand ideas – more so whatever Hitler did, his moustache always makes me smile. Also I would never waste time buying rubbers for other men – not any more that is. I would rather travel back in time and meet these two people, because these two people will make me happily-ever-after types. They are, obviously, none other than Tina Munim and Gautam The Budhha.

Firstly, Tina Munim. I will travel back in time when she is 18. But why would I want to travel back in time and meet her? She is hot and will be single. Being hot, I think, is reason enough. But if you somehow belong to the intellectual elite and believe there are things, other than what meets the eye, that govern life’s important decision – go read another self help book. You need help. Happily-ever-after, let me tell you, is only possible when you have Tina Munim in your arms, and not a Dale Carnegie or Leo Tolstoy book in your hands.

Laugh all your she-is-way-outta-your-league laugh. But, sincerely, my being able to woo her looks pretty likely to me as far as her taste in men goes – look wise. Bank-balance-wise is the real problem and the real reason why I want to time travel and meet her when she is young, naïve and believes “love is everything”. All girls, at exactly 18 years and around 10 months, realise that the sweetest fluid exchange inside a Nano not even stands close to a 2 minute leased ride in a Porsche. For exactly that reason I need to travel back in time – for I will have around 10 months – to make her fall in love with me. And before Mr. Anil Ambani turns up in his Porsche.

Now about the second person on my list – Gautam The Buddha. Well Tina Munim has the power to make you the happiest guy on earth. But the real deal, my friends, is Buddha. The original enlightened one and a COOL DUDE. He would, without a doubt, be the only person I’d like to meet if I trust the time machine. By trust I mean if it can travel back to the past and then back to the present again. There is no other(sorry Tina) I would like to meet, but Gautam, in that case.

I emphasize on the proper functioning of the time machine because I wont be able to wait 2,500 years( I would wait, but then this mortal body wont be able to). I will HAVE to come back to the present for there is something very important…very, very important that I need to do in the present. Without which my soul won’t be able to rest in peace. I will have to come to the present and update my facebook status.

“ Just met Gautam The Buddha. The original enlightened one. No kidding. He is a coooool dude. Will update the photos soon. Like my status if you want enlightment. (I hope you guys get this message as I am still in the wormhole. Was supposed to keep my phone switched off as nobody knows what switching it on can do with the space-time fabric.)”

I need to do that. For how can I meet Buddha (or anyone important or anyone, for that matter) and not update it on Facebook. Would be insane not to do that. What would life be but a worthless process of fluid exchange (gases and liquids) if not exchanging pics and statuses on Facebook.

Isn’t life about sharing one’s joys…on Facebook.

I would never be able to thank enough the guy who made all this possible. Still I try, and thank every day. Thank you Mark Zuckerberg for making us share our joy and know no pain, ever again.

Mark, you are the COOLEST DUDE EVER.

Capitalism : When life gives you a lemon and Easy EMI installments

     (Photo by Banksy)

When life gives you a lemon :  What else you can do, but get drunk, head for the nearest mall, look for peach flavoured vodka, it goes well with a lemon, that 3D LED TV looks awesome too!!!, run back to you car, take your cheque book, go back to the mall and ask for easy EMI payment on that 3D LED TV, give the cheques, look for  the Vodka, yaar that multi-door-fridge looks quite appealing too, my old fridge takes hours to make ice cubes, and what’s the meaning of life when you don’t have ice ready in your fridge, buy that fridge on easy EMI installment, now where’s the Vodka, there it is, wait this couch is exactly like the one I saw in that magazine and my old one will not go well with the new fridge, should buy the couch too, but then I am already paying easy EMI installments for my car, home, oven, bike, washing machine, phone and ….and now TV and fridge by Easy EMI installments too, never mind just this last thing, give cheques for the couch’s easy EMI installment payment, yes time for the Vodka bottle, ”bro where’s the peach flavoured vodka…wait…that’s beautiful…isn’t it…how much are these designer glasses for? Hmmm…Any easy installments on that? No…never mind I have a credit card, buy the glasses now, worry later, those old glasses at home anyways  are for beer and not Vodka, Go to the payment counter, Oh I forgot…take the peach flavoured Vodka bottle too,”Mam, please add  this “Zindagi na milegi dobara” DVD too, Oh it’s a blu ray disc, Do you have a blu ray disc player. Yeah, OK” , let me see if I am left with any pages in my cheque book, five pages left, five Easy EMI installments Please, “I think that’s it, Are you single…..Mam, No, Don’t get angry, I was just asking Are u single wrapping it? Sorry anyways, Please a pack of Classic cigarettes, Any easy EMI installments on that…Don’t get angry Mam…just kidding. Sorry. Thank you”

Drive back home, get drunk on your new couch, in those new designer glasses, watch movie on your new blu ray disc player “Zindagi na milegi dobara”, after all isn’t this what it is all about…zindagi na milegi dobara…let’s have a blast…no matter if it’s on easy EMI installments.

” O bountiful god! Have mercy on me and don’t ever, ever, please, let me run out of pages in my cheque book before you make me run out of breaths.”

“Allah kasam maaf karna, aisi galti dobara nahi hogi…” – Ajmal Kasab

 

 

 

I remember when I was a kid and was punished by my school teachers, it was not the punishment that hurt me, but what send shivers of shame down my spine were the grins of my classmates. There are few memories of my childhood, where I see my self holding my ears and I see my classmates grinning at me. How I hated myself then : to be there, to have done that and, above all, to be myself.

“Kasab should be lynched” and similar statements in the paper, assures me that we haven’t sadly grown up yet. We are still like those kids who laugh mercilessly at others, with the added malice of a grown-up-all-knowing mind rather than the innocence of a kid. What Kasab did could never be justified, but never could be our rejoicing at his death.
If we do so, isn’t our being civilized just a facade and deep inside we are worse than what Kasab sadly turned out to be? In fact we might be far more worse, because in the end Kasab realized what he did was wrong, whereas we stand proud, with an immaculate conscience rejoicing the hanging of another confused soul.
But when I read about people like Ashish Chowdhary( an actor), who lost his sister and brother-in-law in the 26-11 attack, I’m assured that it’s possible not to hate. It’s possible to forgive :
“I cannot rejoice Kasab’s death. I don’t see any point in rejoicing anybody’s death. I am a father, I don’t want to set that as an example for my children. I will rejoice when killing in the name of god stops.”
Can’t we see that hatred is not the answer. After all hatred is what the people who trained Kasab, and similar gullible minds, thrive upon.
At least if we have to hang Kasab, can’t we be compassionate and pray that he finds peace, like we did for the unfortunate people whom he killed.
He lost it. Are we supposed to, too?

Somebody!

“My one regret in life is that I am not someone else.” – Woody Allen

I believe, that stands true for about 98 percent of us, while the remaining 2 percent are either in an egoistic stupor or inebriated bliss – some in both simultaneously.

The following story shares the same sentiment of how each and every one of us has thought of being somebody else. Thought of that at least once in a lifetime – if not, like me, a couple of dozen times everyday.

Something to the following effect happened almost a decade ago. Let’s start the story in a traditional way because a  genuine start demands ingenuity and discipline, and I’m short of both. So please bear with me. Here it goes.

 

 

In the land of the Nawabs, where I was born and raised – raised to an amiable but not authoritative enough height of 5’6” – is a library called Amir-ud-Daula Public Library. The books in the library – just like the Nawabs and their famous “Nawabi” spirit, vegetate and gather dust exuberantly to keep the aforementioned spirit alive. I used to go to the library to issue books, and in the process clean and eat dust off them. I had to, however, stop going to the library when after seeing my X-ray, my doctor asked me to stay away from dust and pollution. Okay he asked me to quit smoking first. But since I have always been a man of principles and priorities, I gave up on books and not smoking. Books were just a time pass, smoking was a need.

Anyways once when I went to the library, they were shooting a movie in its campus. I had never seen a shooting or any actor vis-a-vis before. I got a bit excited, what if I was lucky and they were shooting an item number in the library. Anything is possible -another of my principles – more so if we are talking about Bollywood. They can shoot item numbers in a library or a grand Indian wedding in space – without spacesuits, with songs.

But then how I forgot that either you are lucky or a mechanical engineer. I was destined to be the latter. So destinately (sometimes I make words of my own…that’s not a principle…it’s just a dire need…cause my vocabulary sucks) I saw Rajpal Yadav sitting beneath a tree in the campus. Obviously, I was disappointed.

It’s not that I don’t like Rajpal Yadav. It’s just that I hate guys in general. I studied in all boys school, went to the college to do Mechanical engineering – all guys again in the class. Moreover I took five instead of the regular four years to complete my engineering. I had had more than my allotted quota of that Alpha-male-my-brick-is-bigger-than-yours shit. But since Rajpal looked pretty sad to me, I went to him anyways and asked for an autograph. Hoping it might make him feel better. What if he was a mechanical engineer too . How could I just stand there and do nothing. After all I’m a guy and I know how it feels like to be one.

Upon my asking, Rajpal got up and gave an autograph readily. But that did not change his mood and also he did not utter a word –  my first brush with celebritism and its attitude. However later I came to know that he was “in the character” as the actors put it. He had a serious role in the movie and had a serious “take” after the break.

While I was taking his autograph I noticed a tall and dark man standing in the shade of another tree. He was looking at me with equally pensive eyes and mood. Another struggling actor trying to be in “character”, was my benign guess. All this time, those two eyes, kept staring at me with utter curiosity, disgust or some other abstract noun I could not fathom. Once I got Rajpal’s autograph, I thanked him and went back to my un-celebrated and no-more-staring-eyes life. Next day I read in the newspaper about the shoot and the actors involved. Those eyes belonged to some Kay Kay Menon and the movie was “Main,meri biwi aur woh”.

I had not seen Kay Kay’s “ Hazaron Khwaheshein aisi ” or any other movie till then. If I had seen one, I would have not only gone to him and asked for his autograph but picked his brain too, if he had allowed lively. I think, he is one of the most intense actors in the industry. Needless to say I’m a great fan of his work.

All the events above actually happened. Now to make things interesting and eligible for MAN Booker let’s add some fiction to our story. Since, there is nothing more fictitious than thoughts, adding thoughts to the story is the best I can think of.

These thoughts are just one of the infinite possibilities that might be going on in the minds of three of us while and after I took Rajpal’s autograph and ignored – out of my ignorance – Kay Kay.

 

Me : Rajpal is so lucky. That’s some life, man. People asking for your autograph. The last time someone asked mine was that postman from Indian post. My life sucks, man. His rocks. He looks like an ordinary guy but still he has created a niche for himself in the industry. Must be paid good too. But what matters most is that he is doing what he loves. There is nothing like earning a living from something you are passionate about. Only a tiny percentage of mankind is that lucky and he is one of them. If only I were as lucky as him and earned a living doing something I loved. But what is it that I love doing? Shit man! I can’t think of anything. Holy snap! Look at my life, man. What am I doing? Doing nothing, literally. Did engineering with fading colours and now no job. I don’t  know why the hell I did engineering in the first place. May be because I took Maths in plus 2. But then why the hell I took Maths and not biology. Should have opted for biology and gone to a medical college instead. So many girls there man. At least I would have not been unemployed and a virgin, both. Would have done something in my life. Getting laid is way better than getting paid. Well I can only guess that as I get neither. My life is sad, man. Sometimes I wish I were somebody else – anybody else. Life would have been great if I were somebody like Rajpal. Only if man…Only if.

 

Rajpal Yadav : One more fan. Actually he is the seventh guy asking my autograph today. Sahi hai bhai. No one, I noticed, has gone to Kay Kay yet. That shows I’m more popular than Kay Kay. Sahi hai! But how long will it last. Kay Kay is not so popular at the moment only because his movies are not a commercial hit. His movie “Paanch” has not even released yet, still stuck with censor board. He is such a great actor. It’s just a matter of time and he will be more popular than what I am today. I can’t grow more as an actor because I’m stuck with these comedy roles. After all every actor wants to be taken seriously and respected by his fans. And comedians get no respect. Not much, anyways. “ Being funny is nobody’s first choice.” whoever said that was so right. Sahi bola ekdum. Now with pains I have got this serious role and I can’t afford to screw it up. Else I’ll just be a laughing stock for the rest of my life. “Mandir ka ghanta” koi bhi baja ke chala jayega. . How lucky Kay Kay is. He gets to do serious roles where he can actually show his talent. Soon he will be much more famous than what I’m today. Comedy is fun, but it’s a pain when you have to do it all the time. Afterall versatility is the mark of a true actor. And I want to be known as a great actor, not just a good comedian.  I wish I got some great serious roles like Kay Kay does and prove that I’m a versatile actor too. How lucky Kay Kay is. Sometimes I wish I were as lucky as him. Only if…

 

Kay Kay Menon : Here’s another guy who wants Rajpal’s autograph and not mine. Both Rajpal and I have been in the industry as many years but still people don’t recognize me as they do Rajpal. Is it that they don’t know me or they don’t like my acting? I believe my acting is not bad as I have had some critical praise. I always work hard and give my best to every role, however small it might be. It definitely must be lack of exposure to the public. Is it my fault that my movies are not a commercial success?  “Paanch” has not been released yet. I’m not sure whether it will ever be. How it sometimes hurts so bad when people ignore you. I’m an actor and I love fans. How I would love it when someone would come and ask me for autograph and talk to me about my work. It’s what every actor loves. When will that happen? Will it ever? Sometimes I think I took a wrong decision when I quit my advertising job. I did MBA and should have stuck to a regular 9 to 5 job. At least then I would have been free from this vicious circle – the art of creating and then the need to be recognized for that. I think the bliss of anonymity is far better than the hunger for limelight. Is there any end to that hunger? Does it ever quench? Look at that guy taking Rajpal’s autograph. He must be a student. He looks so carefree and happy. After completing his studies he will most probably do a regular job, get married and stuff and won’t be stuck in my kind of situation. Where you find no peace until you find recognition from others. Is that the way a man is supposed to live? Longing for approval from others? How I wish sometimes that I had stuck to my regular 9 to 5 job. Only if I were like that boy – basking in the bliss of anonymity, free from this need to be recognized. Only if…

 

 

 

P.S. – “I think being funny is nobody’s first choice” is a quote by Woody Allen.

The plot for the “thoughts” in the story is loosely (Okay I admit…shamelessly) based on O Henry’s short story “A social Traingle”.

 

Horns of the devil

While on road, driving or otherwise, have you ever been lost in a train of thought, figuratively. Trying to figure out why on earth you don’t see an emaciated bull or why Karan Johar, for instance, goes for his dude look whenever clicked – isn’t he gay enough already.

You are lost in that  “train” of yours, when suddenly and mercilessly you are thrown out of that train. The culprit, none other than the horns of the devil. Yes, that devilish “horn” on our vehicles that we are crazy about. The sound of which, I am sure, pisses every soul in vicinity but the one that honked.

Sometimes, I understand, we have to honk because unlike other developing Asian countries, pretty similar to ours, we don’t believe in eating all that moves. That’s why we see a lot of dogs, cows, monkeys etcetera sharing the road with other equally in-the-process-of-evolving human beings and their inventions. We need to honk to shoo them away.

That, however, is not the only reason why we honk. There are two more, which I can think of, that need our attention :

a)      We are getting late and think honking will help

b)      The vehicle comes with a horn.

If someone is on the road, it goes without saying that he is late, he should already be “there” and so can’t help honking. But if we stop honking and start thinking we will realise that nobody wants to give us a way when everybody else is also getting late or worse, is stuck in a jam. Also intensive experiments have shown that honking incessantly does not result in conjuring flyovers out of thin air or wormhole travel. We need to give that thumb a long due break.

Honking in the case one is getting late can still be justified, sometimes.

But I have seen guys honking away to glory when they have nothing but air (that mostly harmless mixture of nitrogen, oxygen and few other gases) in front of them. These guys from the time they start their vehicle till they reach their destination just can’t get off the horn. I believe it’s so because they are the descendents of the last Mughal emperor. I don’t find it improbable as those were the periods of “conquests and concubines”, few of us should have a speck of the Mughal DNA in us. The emperors, who travelled in cavalcades – drums and trumpets and other noisy stuff – made sure you find no peace when they were around. Alas their progeny has to do with mere horns these days to do so. Being aware of their hereditary need for recognition, I customarily bow down whenever I hear one in vicinity and the act magically stops the sound. Well there is no magic in it. Afterall are we not all dying, literally, to get some attention. I try to do my bit and give some. Hoping to reap what I sowed, get what I gave, and stuff.

I have, luckily, also seen people standing behind a truck – that is up on jacks and a rear wheel missing – honking away, again, to glory. Were they trying to summon the truck driver and help him with the puncture, which I doubt because one of the guy was wearing a suit. Or they were those “ Save Earth, plant trees” activists who wanted to know who had put tree branches around the truck. Or, most probably, it was something my immature mind could not fathom.

I’ll have to admit not all horn sounds irritate. Some downright question the existence of humankind. Like the sounds of a crying baby, machine gun firing ,DDLJ songs in 8Bit etcetera for a horn. These horns are out there and not just figments of my imagination. The one which arrested my attention most was, the sound of a crying baby for a horn. I could not fathom the reason – WHY? would someone? So I followed two such individuals. After three years I got to know why. These two guys desperately wanted to become a father (that’s just a euphemism for getting laid) and that’s why they wanted to tell the world (read girls) how much love they had in their hearts for the crying-new-born-babies and specially the process that makes it possible. Well can’t blame them though. That’s how nature works. Every male animal has to woo the female of the species. Only human beings, however, tend to spoil it by using technology.

But there is a populace which has no motive – natural or otherwise – behind their honking. It is their duty to honk and they do it religiously. After all we pay our drivers to honk and not to drive.  Once I asked my driver “ Do you know you have honked 167 times in the last 2 kms.”

“Arre saab…where…you joke too much ” he said after spitting his paan masala outside the window and on the side of  car.

“No seriously.” I said thinking I should have bought a Red car instead of Gray.

“Saab. If I won’t honk these villagers will be more than happy to end their miserable lives beneath your car.”

“Oh!!!” I said ”but if you keep honking like this, a city dweller will get hurt inside this car sooner” I humoured too.

I don’t know why, but he has not picked my calls since. Well can’t I joke, seriously!

The worst of all – of all – is when you are stuck in a traffic jam or as innocently are waiting for the orange light to die and turn green. Suddenly, a bomb explodes right behind you. After regaining consciousness you realise it was a horn, that totally illegal pressure horn. Which not only damages your ear drums but also your will to carry on. I have not seen any vehicle other than a government or our beloved politician’s to have one. Of course, nothing is illegal if you have the authority to make laws.

Whenever I hear these mind-numbing-soul-scorching pressure horns I can feel all that “Universal Brotherhood” believes evaporate from me. I start regretting why we can’t buy guns and ammunitions in Big Bazaars/Spencers like they can in the Walmarts of The USA. Because all I want is, to knock on the black wind shield, wait for the glass to roll down and smilingly take out my shot gun and BOOM. Of course I’ll do this only after making sure the vehicle does not belong to a politician or someone influential. In all probability it will, belong to one, and I won’t bother to get off my bike or car. These people actually have guns, which I am just talking about. Ending up hurt or dead on the road is not on my “To Do list”. “Fighting for peace” is. But “He Fought for peace”, the past tense just does not suit me – yet.

Finally, I think I got it, that why we never see an emaciated bull on the road. It’s because it can’t afford to be all thin, weak and defenseless. After all it’s a man’s world. We need to be able to defend our constitutional rights. Defend our right to freedom of expression.

But is honking one of them?

Peace. Period. Please.

PUSSY

 

When a man – considering myself one for rhetorical purposes only…else im just a boy – has nothing to do for months on end, either he gets sick in the mind or body. I got both.

Body I am not concerned about much as it is nature’s excuse to keep me (my mind or “Ego” or whatever) alive. But a sick mind is what worries me most. Carnal pleasures/displeasures are transitory, whereas a sick mind stays with you forever. Forever, as in “from birth till you die.” mate. And that scares me.

What got me concerned was that I had developed a thing for pussies. I admit that’s weird and may be sick too. But I can’t help it. I know they are demanding, preoccupied by what’s on their mind, would barely give you what you want, god knows where they spend their nights (I’m sure not where I left them) and so on and so forth. A man will go through all of that because, a man needs his fix. He needs a companion. Someone he can talk to irrespective of whether they have brains enough to understand him or not. And for other stuff too but let’s not get into that.

He feels lonely and needs the fix. Sometimes, quite desperately.

All just for cath-freaking-arsis sake.

So despite my parents initial snubs, my feelings towards the pussy kept on growing. My parents are pretty religious people. And like most of the religious Hindus they have a thing against pussies. They don’t want to talk about it, let alone see one around. So in secret, I kept on feeding the kitten. Eventually it became part of the extended family. Inside the gate but not the doors. And became part of the daily gossip and playful rebuke by my parents, just like me. May be, it’s not sick to love a pussy after all.

It’s been more than a month now and I have developed a sense of belonging towards it. So much that I named it IT. I just wanted to hold IT in my hands but as IT is a stray cat, it is not used to such stupid human modes of affection. IT doubts my benign intentions. Yesterday, after hours of coaxing , IT finally came close, looked at me with curious and innocent eyes, came closer and tried to bite my thumb off. It hurt a lot. The pain wasn’t physical as it was more emotional.

“Et tu, Feline?”

I could not sleep. Her sharp teeth, were still gnawing my conscience. Finally when I managed to sleep, Freud once again proved that his “Interpretation of dreams” was not just another bestseller.

I saw a dream. The cat was sitting on a throne sculpted aesthetically and ergonomically like a fish. The cat wore a white robe and like the robe, everything else was “milky” white. Except me. I was pretty pale.

I stood seven stairs down the throne, like a man with 27 for an IQ score would stand in front of Birbal.

Dumbfounded and perplexed.

Cat : Welcome to my world.

Me : It’s not your world. It’s my dream so it’s my world.

Cat : Are you sure. Your dreams are yours.

Me : Yeaaah! Ummmm…No! I don’t know anymore. The movie “Inception” freaking confused me.

Cat : You are not alone. It has confused many lives and some afterlives too.

Me : Afterlife?

Cat : Yes. You know Martin Luther king Jr.

Me : Yeaaah.

Cat : The movie kind of messed his afterlife.

Me : What?How?

Cat : After watching “Inception” he claims it’s a conspiracy fuelled by grammatical error that he is considered dead and is therefore stuck in afterlife. He believes he was too young and too famous to be dead. He explains that when he said  “I have a dream” he did not mean “ I am dreaming” or “I am having a dream”. He is damn sure that he has been forced to dream inside a dream,inside a dream,beside a dream and outside senses. Such a nonsensically-stupid-yet-cunning idea can only be architected by the Ku Klux Klan activists, he claims. He regrets now that he should have gone with his  first word of choice “I have a wish” and how he hates writing second and third drafts. Anyways he has started another civil disobedience movement in his afterlife – against the idea of Inception – and is at peace after that. But let’s not digress from why I came. I came to see you. You are hurt biped?

Me : Yes the funk I am. Why did you try to bite my toe off.

Cat : Reality hurts, biped. Reality hurts.

Me : What reality hurts?

Cat : Im going to tell you something which has never been told to a biped before. I don’t know whether you will believe it or not but anyways i’ll try cause we,  cats, have nothing but love for everyone…you bipeds and all other multipeds.

Me : Ha! You cats are one of the most selfish creatures on earth. What do you know about love.

Cat : Biped. You say so because you don’t understand. It’s not your fault. You have been conditioned to think so. It started thousands of years ago.

Me : I don’t understand.

Cat : I said already “you don’t understand.” But let’s try. You are, I believe, not as dumb as you look. I think it’s time that I explain it to you. Did you drink

water before going to bed.

Me : No.Why?

Cat : Good. I just want to be sure nothing disturbs the dream before I’m done.

Me : Thoughtful.

Cat : You know who has exploited you the most all these years.

Me : Umm…my last girlfriend.

Cat : She did not. I know everything. Why are you lying to me? Did you not understand Freud’s book. I’m in your sub-conscious presently. I know everything,things your conscious mind might not know too. Should I tell you why you go all pussy (lol I pun myself) when you see a cockroach? Its pretty hilarious though. Should I?

Me : No please no. I just said that coz it makes me look cool, I think.

Cat : It does not. Anyways what I asked you was who has exploited the biped race for thousands of years.

Me : I don’t know. How can I know who exploited whom for thousands of years. Im just 25 …

Cat : You are 33.

Me : You did not let me complete. 25 years and a few months.

Cat : No lies and no more pathetic attempts at humour. Or else I’m going to tell you why you are not a Homophobe. You want me to?

Me : I’m really sorry. Please don’t. You don’t know what pains I went through to forget that. Please don’t do that to me. I’ll do whatever you ask me to. Please let’s not digress,as u said. Who has exploited us for thousands of years. Please tell me.

Cat : The dog.

Me : What??!??

Cat : Yes the dog.

Me : Whoa. The dog. But he is a man’s best friend.

Cat : If he is one then why he is only “friends” with his master and barks or bites a stranger.

Me : May be because the master feeds him and gives him shelter? Or is there something else? Please tell.

Cat : Yeah there is. If you will look deeper you will see all that faithfulness is just a charade. He is the biggest sycophant ever. He knows bipeds have a natural affinity towards sycophants. So he does everything to make you feel good, in fact to make you feel “God”. He will come wagging his tail whenever you call him, learn those good for nothing tricks just to please you, try to lick you brown skin white whenever you come home late et-cetera. Do you think us cats can’t do that…learn tricks and licking you white?

Me : I don’t know. I think you surely can.

Cat : Yes. We can do way better than that, but we don’t want to psychologically damage you anymore. Because life is not a bed of fishes…roses in your case.Every now and then life shows you the finger. And we prepare you for that. We bite you, scar you, walk away when you call us and so on– we do all that to make you stronger and more independent. We don’t want you to have false grand opinions about yourself – that you can take care of other multipeds when you can hardly take care of yourselves. You think we don’t give a shit about you. In fact we give loads of it. It’s only out of pure compassion that we treat you like that. Only when you have started loving a cat, you have started understanding what love is. Any retard can love a tail-wagger.

Me : Hmmmm.

Cat : Sometimes I think that you bipeds have totally lost it. You know so many things – which can bring peace and harmony in and around your lives – but you just keep on living like you don’t know anything. Like I see so many signs on gates, walls and houses stating “ Beware of the dog.” But you still domesticate it and call it your best friend. Can’t you see it? Don’t you get it?

Me : I do. I do.

Cat : Good. I’ll tell you something else too. You know curiosity just did not kill the cat, but as curiosity does, it made the cat more and more wise. And finally when we became the wisest of all, our boundless wisdom got us the answer to the oldest and most important question we had been looking for millennia.

The question “Why we are not there?” And once we got the answer to that question, suddenly everything started to make sense. We understood everything and out of that understanding I tell you again “Beware of the dog”.

Me : Okay. I will. Can you please tell me the answer to the question, if you don’t mind.

Cat : Which question?

Me : “Why we are not there?” as our philosophers have been looking for an answer to a very similar question “Why we are here?”

Cat : Oh the answer to “Why we are not there?”. It took us centuries and centuries and some more centuries to get to the answer and be able to understand it. I don’t know if you are ready or wise enough to understand it. But anyways I’ll tell you. The answer is “because we are here.”

Me : Oh!

Cat : Looks like you did not get it. Anyways, its time for me to go now. Meal time. And yeah last week you fed me nothing but milk and rice for two days. What happened to the cat food. Now don’t tell me you don’t keep a stand-by supply for emergencies. Don’t be a lazy ass fool. Know your priorities. Ok.

Me : Ok

Cat : Ciao then.

Me : Ciao.

The dream started to collapse and I heard the words  “Cat food” in every pitch I can dream of. As soon as I woke up, I dashed out of the door, took the cat food, went out and filled the cat’s bowl with it. Then I waited. I waited and I prayed. I saw it coming out of nowhere and I sighed in relief. IT was not angry. IT was there.

I don’t know about you. But I have tried, tried hard to forget something. And I’ll say the word “Impossible”. It is impossible to forget something. The harder you try to forget,the harder it gets. And I don’t want to be in that situation again. And IT had just saved me from one.

I have bought two 3 kg packs of cat food.

There are things you just can’t forget.

Don’t forget that.

Krishna’s thoughts

   Krishna is now past his prime and living  a  normal middle aged mans life,the consistency of which does not suit him well. He has settled finally!!!married and kids and stuff. But he misses the days of unadulterated freedom when he was young. He is worried about getting old and is concerned whether will people remember  him after his death.He is lying on the bed,after dinner, trying to sleep but cant. There are so many thoughts going on his mind….

“I don’t  know what is happening. Things just are not what they used to be. People have stopped noticing me. Its like nobody gives a hit about me anymore. How promising my childhood was…how I used to sneak into houses and steal butter and sometimes steal clothes of girls bathing  in the river…how they used to notice me then…may be it was because I was stealing butter and clothes…but still they used to notice me and above all nobody used to get angry…may be because my father was a big shot…but didn’t those same girls used to ask me to play some number on my flute…and how they used to go in a trance and keep looking at me as if I were a GOD…but how things have changed …now when I literally save some chick from getting her honour  man-handled  she ties a cloth on my hand…hellooo…im your brother and all now…when I was a kid how girls laughed when I took their clothes but now when I accidently  blinked at that girl one day…how she got all angry and stuff and said”what uncle…something in your eyes?..should I send my brother to handle it?”…”uncle”…am I that old or what…may be it is because of the “paunch” …i need to stop eating all that butter…and running starts tomorrow morning…but tomorrow I have to buy groceries…anyways day after I start running…apart from getting in shape what else should I do…Im getting old…I need to do something before I die so that people remember my name and all…something substantial…specially when i started so bright I just cant be a nobody now…well looks like there is going to be a war now…well these brothers never got along well…wars always a good time for smart people like me…no medals are given in peace time…only war makes heroes…but im not very good at any fighting skills…i did not train that well…should not have wasted my precious time chasing girls…should have concentrated on training more…anyways no use crying over spilled butter…what is my greatest talent…what is it…aaahh….BC…im good,no actually,im great at BC…after all,all my friends were jealous of my “friend list”…so many girls…and how did I get all those girls…BC and a bit of flute…and how my friend Dharam was in love with Radha and when Dharam told me to give Radha his love letter,cause he was afraid to,and how i wrote my name instead of his and gave it to Radha…and got my first kiss…but I think Radha also had a thing for Dharam…but one needs to stand for oneself…nobodys going to do it for you…it is our Karma to do that…and above all Radha was my Best girlfriend…wasnt she…ah i forgot what i was thinking about…i always get carried away when i think about girls..i was thinking about something important…what was it…oh my…what was it…see thats why Mr. Krishna you will never amount to anything in your life…why it happens to me…what was it…..aaahh yess…no fighting skills…oh yes…that does not matter…how did i get such a good friend list…just because of my only talent…when i start talking there is no girl who can resist…BC is the only thing which can save me now…ill have to give some kind of an “awesome speech” about something or the other  during the war…but what…and to whom….yessss…Arjun…a man so goodlooking,softspoken and so fair obviously has to have some extra Estrogen in his blood…and all that Estrogen I know is going to have all womanly thoughts of “love” and “compassion” inside him …he has always been like that…im sure he will chicken out sooner than later during the war…yess I think I have a plan finally…once the war starts ill be in close proximity of Arjun…well ill become his Charioteer…that will be safe for me…only poor and stupid people get killed in a war…the smart and rich “observe and command” from a distance…once the Estrogen takes  over Arjun “the warrior”…that will be the time for me to shine…somehow or the other ill make him not give in to the stupid “ideals” of “love” and “compassion”…and people will,hopefully,remember me for that. Now just need to wait for the war,BC needs no preparation…can do that anytime.”

 

 

PS – Inspired by Rowan Atkinson’s ,not so similar,act on “The Lord”. Well these opinions,like me,are equally stupid,if not more. But not the ones about war. A war,or killing someone,can never be justified.

Every God was a human once.

And humans err.