13 hours...

It was 13 hours later that he realized the difference a boundary can make, it took him 13 long agonizing hours to surmise why the sun wasnt there... in all but 13 hours life took a new turn... a new beginning was ushered in from a door that was left slightly ajar, only for the air to flow in so that he could breathe once in a while... but then again, opportunities do seek you at times, mishaps seek appointments and keep them, this was one of those times, when the deprived and maligned nothing of a soul was to be wrenched of the last iota of ether inside would be squeezed out. And yet he smiled knowing that the desiccation and destruction is nothing but his own doing, he knew it was coming he was just 13 hours late thats all...

And then tuesday was gone... with the wind, ridin with the wild horses, up a stairway to heaven, with the sky turning yellow... and he stood there... comfortably numb...

ibid: he was a dreamer... who dreamt on too long... and he knew u shud never love a song... for the transience of words hurt you too bad... they leave u trying to grip/what you never had...

the truths heard and am on my way...

stand outside theres one thing left to say...

then again...some other day... some other day...

cuse tonight... aint about the hand that rocks...

its the glass that talks...

the lights goin...n so do u... go away...

my whites dying... i turn to grey...

but then again... i see u fading...

anticipating...

u'll go away... away.. into the night...

fading light...

i walk tonight... alone again... just a glass in hand...

alone i stand...

it never was that u were here anyway.....

so why the helll... wud u even... staaaay!!!!

so as i sing the bar does close the last order he says...

does he know deep inside theres a soul that prays...

act is done... jester stops

gibberish... iltutmish... chinar... qutub minar...

One cant help but compare... au contraire one has to compare... for ur fallacies and mistakes and the comparisons with absolute perfections is whats supposed to bring you up...that is what is supposed to egg you on... I used to rhyme it all once upon a time... this was my way of filling in the void left by my not so perfect schooling. I aint a convent educated someone who can be verbose at the drop of a hat and end up speaking at hours together in a language that has been by far alien to me for long... so i would add my own lines to fill in the gaps left by my inadequacy of words... words that were always around somewhere... lines that made the person sitting in front wonder is he making sense? hence... the comeuppance... today I am no longer the rhymer i once was... i am back to my stammering self... unsure to say the least at times... and whats brought this along? absent song... absent words... absence fills to much of my everyday now... I wish I would do something about it... I wish there was no crossroads... I wish there was just a fork in the road and I knew which road to take... I wish I was walking not crawling... running not falling... stymied and confused I stare at what life has thrown... the problems unknown, uncouth is my mere attempt at it... and I will not make it through... and that aint new... I think that is whats in store... so I would pie some more...

pie some more...

Why dont blog write on their own... why do I have to take the trouble of filling pages with diatribe that is far too non consequential for the world to pay any heed to. And mind you all that I am writing bears no significance to any individual or occurrence, and if it so happens that it does, in that case it is merely the writers attempt at obviating the realism in life itself.

Not so long ago I was alive, not so long ago I used to dream, not so long ago I used to write, not so long ago I wasn't employed. And now that I am, my creativity is best expressed in the not so often contrite abuses I pile upon my boss/co-workers/partners, the choicest of words and expressions usually best put in hindi or my mother tongue punjabi fills up my creative void. And that seems to be the order of the day for most of those around, and it so seemed till I came across you, you you you, you fill me with the will to express be more than what I am. The mere smile you so seldom chose to smile upon us mortals gives me strength to go on, to drag my ass to office, to make each day worth living. And yet you are so so far away from me, the mere mention of your name makes me long for u, makes me wish you were around. And then not so far away I have this ridiculous piece of shit barfing in my face, taking my thoughts to a new parallel, but yet I long to see you again.

What is passion, I have this friend who has discovered what we call a "Calling" in life, (well why beat around the bush), Saahil happens to now know what he always was searching for. TFI it seems is the answer to all he was searching for, ubiquity, balance, goal, a reason... there is something besides tix that brings a smile to his face. Call it fate by design or chance, but one thing leading to another has seen him land up with TFI. Rest is fait accompli, every sentence he speaks, every conversation we have is laced with teachings, with innuendos, even the anecdotes revolve around his experiences... he does not now look at the world the way we see it... or maybe I am just exaggerating, but things have changed in his neck of the woods.

But still what is passion, and where does my calling lie? Does it lie in a simple piece of pie? The pie I so sinfully washed down my throat with a coffee? Or does it lie in the coffee the innumerable cups of which I have gulped down everyday? The answer is far too confusing than the question was... for the answer aint just blowing in the wind anymore, it aint in the fast fast fast river (this is an innuendo that seems far too out of place but what the heck who is reading this anyway), the answer is an arcane quest, it would someday become a series of blog entries that might just result in a ridiculous book I might just publish and rake in some dough. Some chick once told me that I was too good with questions but I aint no good at answering them myself, well part of it is true and which one I now know.

U know what, someday I would do the moonwalk, play next to (or in a more sophisticated undertone "jam with") eric clapton and mark knopfler, learn to get over stuff, die on my 50th birthday, write a book, give up on coffee... see you smile... till that day... never say forever again...

3rd...

At times u say stuff n later on u regret it... n then there are times in the spur of the moment u say smthin n the next moment u forget it... i hate the latter... cuse at times... n especially those when the minds at a momentary high... when senses r numb...the world goes by slow... the thoughts that u taught urself are so clear and so distinct from each other... when every word is worth its weight in gold and manifold... these are times when deliriums a moment away and the moment seems so momentary so ephemeral and u dnt want it 2 last... for delirium is the ubiquitous existence the panacea u r chasing its ur goal yet this moment is when u have the worlds attention... so what do u do.. the next swigs ur undoing but thats wat u r doing... sinking... blabbering... u r the worthless drunkard at some watering hole... lying in ur own incongruous meelie of words u dnt understand... what made the crowds heads turn u dnt remember... ur minute of fames long gone... what stares u now are questioning eyes.. unsure of ur next move... the crowd thins away... ur floating now... the words seem a long distant dream... the moment so ephemeral...so effervescent burst like a bubble... the time crushed like a scooby snack... time for a coffee... :)

Valedic...

I have this notion... that someday... i would get up and walk out... and when i say walk out i intend to say that I would walk out on everything around me... people... friends... colleagues... everyone... and start a new life. It is quite often misrepresented in flicks where u start a new life and ur past catches up with u,.. with me it wont... it would be complete disassociation and detachment from all I know... and why?? I donno... maybe its because of the way 2day was... maybe its because I have realised and come 2 terms with the bitter truth that is... that the one strand of imagination i had emancipated... and kept hoping for and kept alive is not done for... this one glimmer of hope to have things work out differently has died... so maybe... in a new life it would be better... maybe I would be less of a nobody when I reappear... maybe I dont give a fuck to the fact that this is being read or not... maybe I would be a valedictorian at oxford... and the next thing u know I am all over 100 dollar bills somewhere... maybe its all a farce, the very fact that I write it here right now is for someone to read and ask me as to what is wrong or what the hell this means, or maybe we are all that ways... all bound by the world, strained in our thoughts, mindless in our actions, and confused in our lives... we are but the offspring of one human alone... the guy who started it all... so we are after all linked in one common strand... the strand of revival... for he 2 realised that he needs to wake up someday somewhere else with it all left behind... with a new start and a new morning and a new hope... maybe that day is tomorrow... maybe it is just the time i would be woken up from my sleep at 5 am in the morning jolted into a bus ride to a place dark and gloomy sitting next to a ghost and then cut off from it all thrown into a jungle unknown coming to grips with my decision of going through it all only to find myself struggling with life once again in a world where truth is just a misrepresentation of all the lies you cant carry anymore... maybe i was better of the nobody i was and not the valedictorian I am...

As Is

Life is as is... as will be... as was... as should be....
moments are as gone... as were... as spent... as done...
this time is..one tide... one breeze... waits for none...
I am as was... as am... as free...
Ended up doing an As is analysis of a fucked up juiced out squeezed tight business we are trying to envisage and run in a dying market with zilch investment and maxed out effort... its a race against time... a worthless and endless grime, a grave we dig two inches deep everyday trying to fit in more people... I do see the light in the day (n yes not night... cuse we are blinded in the day neways)... i do see we are wrong... and as a pea at the bottom of all of the queens mattresses i do try and make my point... do give them folks up above an itch once in a while that the picture aint rosy... and get out while the time is right. But then there is an escalation of commitment we all live with... my friends are going through it with marriages... some with their girlfriends... and businesses these days with rigid commitments that are far 2 much cast in stone for anyones good. Flexibility is what smaller organizations thrive on... and on what airtel sneezes and gives a flu to. We are all about the moolah... all on paper... none to see... if u make it cool... ur luck but on paper the case should predict a story all would like to hear, I aint a cynic, nor am i too old in the system 2 be critical of it... but from what I have seen its all about boss is right cover ur ass and run. So all I am looking for is 2 exit stage left before the fat lady sings, my paycheck takes a hit and the recruiters give me crap... so if my boss is reading yes i am planning 2 exit...If a consultants reading I am with Airtel for the last 2 years... and if its u my friend then is there an opening in ur parta town??? cuse life is as is... is shit... where i sit... am hit... :)

a little while later...

I stare at three drafts... three unfinished tales looking at me as i go through the posts...three wonderous incoherent pieces of utter nonsense staring at me... but then again... they are yesterday... and today if i leave this as such it will be the draft left open yesterday... so why dont i just let this be the one post that wasnt meant to impress a reader glancing through blogs of note... why not let this be not a meaningless free writing that will be unjumbled in some saner moment in time... why try and give this a meaning that means nothing to the world around... why hope that this be the breakthrough the world awaits... for a little while later when the fingers are numb... the mind unsure of the chain of thot it was at the moment an insignificant passing whiff of breeze blowing by it wont matter... it would just be another draft like the many left behind... who cares, where does this all count... the world is too busy making its own plans... I am myself 2 busy pressing the self destruct button everyday... so why wake up tomorrow in a hope that this would have made a difference yesterday... who has the time 2 see the difference being made... is difference not as transient as life itself that observed in that frame of reference as life... both look the same... the inherent transience of life so very much a part of the change itself that it all looks the same at the end of the day. Akin to an amalgam life is entrenched in its own changing self that there is nothing discernable any more... life is change change is life... deprived of sleep impalled by the hope and despair of the inability to see what things have become a little while later from where it was originally thought of... this has become a diatribe in itself... an effort 2 make sense gone waste... an effort to let things be made a mess of... I guess i should be sleeping... and this shall remain but a draft...

the ticker...

The ticker tape on newscasts amazes me... ever since my english teacher during the MBA coaching days introduced the term I have been dazed by the phenomenon that a ticker tape is... from the "Sansanni" to the "Breaking News" to the latest score updates and what not... but what would actually blow the lid of imagination and make the ticker truly fantastic would be a tape running infront of an individual...highlighting what alls happening how the day has been what the mood is like... not a mind reader per se...but a day journal... eliminating the need to converse and get into banalities such as a wassup... for it elludes nothng more than a nothing much or a rude whatever... so well... my point is when you are driving and someone honks you knowing fully well that theres no place upfront and you so very much wanna give him the finger poof goes the ticker conveying what you think in the rear glass or on the bumper... when you so very much wanna start a meaningful conversation that involves more than the usual my day in the office was crappy... you look below read what you think can be of use like "the movie juno was good" and you hve a conversation starter...
so well now that this is done... heres a fun fact... think of a chicks name... what does it end with? does it end with a vowel??? chances are it does... according to an analysis done by two very close friends of mine (we actually thought of doing our research project on this :P ) 90% of females names end with a vowel... and those that dont are either a. exceptions or b. can be substiuted for a guys name as well or c. are that of a sikh female... (try it... )
and back to the ticker... why did i think of it??? well i am a chat enthusiast... well the chat bubble in the real world burst about 2-3 years ago... but well thats when i got hooked to it... thats when i started chatting with People... so well I guess I will take time to get over it... so til i do I wanna have conversation starters that are better then a wassup... or a hey u there??? or an unquotable abuse for that matter...so i devised a mood reader... but the use is limited and works very rarely... so hence therefor the ticker... I have a patent filed for it... till it happens the things a top secret and in the meanwhile...wassup??? :D

1 AM... Friday...
Dear Diary...

I am figuring out the best possible line to be put on my tombstone...even though i know i will become a burning cinder rather than an Armani Clad casket carried someone buried in a grave with a tombstone in the shape of a guitar to represent my one only dying wish to actually be able to play one (how i would love to be buried!!! sigh)...yet I must figure out what it says.. for it matters to me alot as to how I go and what i am remembered by when I am gone... Oh but I have messed up and influenced far too many a life to not be remembered as such... but then again what the tombstone says becomes a fashion (A dying one at that) statement... so lets... make this happen... make the dead me look good... atleast better than the undead one.. The options:

1. Hey open up man... been locked too long...
2. dude if u come one step closer to read... its gonna hurt...
3. *they suck because the ones i have been working on since morning are lost somewhere in the gray area of my head... w=
4. Am sleepy!!! go away...
5. Are those flowers??? Can i get some seeds please...

And since i am drowsy right now i will close this for now to edit it later...

cheers... to coffee..

Delirium has its own way... it sets in and sets you up... you are sucked into an incongruous and inescapable feeling of floating in some spatial discontinuity... your minds numbed your souls free...thoughts are so clear and yet unthinkably you are confused about the pertinence of these very fragments serendipitous and inconceivable cognition thats a result of a well thought out path to destroy the very core of id that has kept you alive till date... so you drift away into a cocooned existence... back to the world where nothing meets the bourgeois existence you so very much are used to... so what do you do... you wish to be back again... you brew another cup and drink up... and float again...for caffeine aint an addiction... its a way of life...

Weekmend...

I need something to do over the weekend... for far 2 long i have been planning stuff out and seeing it not mature... heard people tell me it aint possible or what not... and very rarely does it so happen that theres some stray call thats akin to a coffee invite... so well i need an indulgence... and after long debate and discussion within... i have zeroed in on the following options... now there was a lot of debate and deliberation and many an argument to get here... now what follows is not to be ignored or not paid attention to... this demands attention and opinon... so the options thus are...

1. Guitar... have tried my hand at it... and i suck at it... cuse it needs patience... co-ordination and a sense of music... not i have them all but none quite enough to get my act right... had i given it more time and effort when i had the time... i cudda been good... but its never too late for nothing...

2. Dance... this is the one thing that has till now let me down... i might win the intra seth dance off... but nothing beyond... at wedding and all i end up being the guy who tells the dj what to play or getting the drinks and all... and about time i steped up to the floor with a purpose rather than a slouched nothing of an effort... 

3. Swim.. I aint heading to the beach anytime soon... and this aint something that will keep me busy for the better part of the weekend but atleast i would finally get beyond drowning... which sucks ass... and is certainly not good enough to look at... you flap ur arms like a moron...make tons of effort to sink like a stone... how bad is that???

4. Bike... Now i dont have one in gurgaon.. and neither i the kinds who would drive to leh on whim and a prayer... but i love the fellng of sitting on a saddle wiht the breeze hitting my face (through the helmet ofcourse)... and going places... someplace or the other....again this is not somthing i gould do every weekend... but once or twice a month a drive would feel good... 

5. Social work... now i feel compelled to do somehitng from time to time about the world beyond... but thats just a feeling that fades... if only i could make this a sustainable flame.. a self fuelling thing then it might just be the answer... till then i wud seek somethign else...

6... planning.. i might just plan what to do next weekend... cuse there is always whole lot of nothing to do with whole lot of nobodies around me... till then i will weekmend... 

On of those days...

Had a terrible day today... nothing to do with the vagaries of work or the lack of them... nothing to do with friends or people around or the knack of them... nothing to do with anyone... but more to do with me and me alone... I donno what snapped, which side of the cot i got off... or was it the rather too early dose of floyd... or maybe it was me undoing myself by simply drifting down the road not travelled anymore... or maybe it was just one of those days... For i woke up with a start... a start so rattled and bummed that it could only have resulted post the haunting dream that plagues me far too many times... i tend to revisit some certain events/occurances/misdemeanours alot... and that too in my dreams only... maybe somewhere at the back of my mind theres still some silent regret at being a lunatic loser a summer gone by... or maybe its just my current disposition where i stand down an alley too dark... too miasmic... groping for a a grip... or maybe am up somewhere alone orbitting like some satelite stationed at a point looking down the mess i created in my life... but then again... maybe its just me expecting too much from people i know too little of... or maybe...its life itself...which i know nothing of...

best sng in a while...

Wrestler!! hail the boss!!


Have you ever seen a one trick pony in the field so happy and free?
If you've ever seen a one trick pony then you've seen me
Have you ever seen a one-legged dove making his way down the street?
If you've ever seen a one-legged dove then you've seen me

Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door
Then you've seen me, I always leave with less than I had before
Then you've seen me, bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor
Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?
Tell me can you ask for anything more?

Have you ever seen a scarecrow filled with nothing but dust and wheat?
If you've ever seen that scarecrow then you've seen me
Have you ever seen a one-armed man punching at nothing but the breeze?
If you've ever seen a one-armed man then you've seen me

Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door
Then you've seen me, I always leave with less than I had before
Then you've seen me, bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor
Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?
Tell me can you ask for anything more?

These things that have comforted me, I drive away
This place that is my home I cannot stay
My only faith's in the broken bones and bruises I display

Have you ever seen a one-legged man trying to dance his way free?
If you've ever seen a one-legged man then you've seen me