freeword...

We are a socialist secular democratic republic has been reworded to.. we are a content... aimless... loathed... sham... for we have lost the real significance of being way back... maybe there was some error in the way patel sire divided the states, or maybe autonomy is a concept misunderstood, but when we look within its pretty much noticeable that we might be winning some stray wars but we are losing the battle as a whole...
The east could be a country in itself... with mamta (am unsure of who i am but am sure i wanna stop bengal from running) bannerjee as their aung yang... and then kashmir with its separatists and parallelists and unsurists forming 3 separate countries... gujrat and modi forming a hindu nation with some defactors from the thackeray end... and then there wud b the southies,... who wnt live together i can guarantee... for they wont share water food or air amongst each other...
and yet we have scribes writing tales about a glorified india with 3 medals thaat... and celebrations on winnin one where a gold shud hve been par for the course... so are we content with the sheer nothingness of the multitude of efforts we put in... for how long wud we cry about how deplorable it all is right when the fat lady is clearing her throat to let lose??? why should conditions not be made right when it counts???
why should so for that matter be delhi allowed to crawl to work and back??? when we have potholes to drive our cars through... and why not sleep on the sidewalk and be crushed by a beamer or a bentley if u r looking at an aristocratic death... n have ur soul wait for justice while the system is bought over by the flying angel atop the phantom someone drove...
or well why not try and set up a plant or a dam that can shape a states future and have some nature freak or a political mileage seeker come along and shit all over ur front yard and u still being left with the task of cleaning up...
and well u cud just burn the poster of the movie playin near ur place be it Casper the friendly ghost and claim that the portrayal of a ghost is demeaning to ur religious beliefs....
somehow calvins world of imagination and freeword is better... and i wud rather be living in it... then trying to manage out here... hey watterson...cud u like rename the strip call calvin seth n be done with it...

moved by a movie..

Saw shawshank redemption for the nth time... knew the dialogues by heart... even the opera piece by the french ladies... but still cudnt peal myself away from it... i donno why but i can watch it right now again... was just wondering wat makes it that special, is it for the reason that andy wud crawl out at the end through shit (literally and otherwise) and be free... or cuse it will rekindle lost hope... or cuse red redding will narrate a tale in a way that aint been done or wud happen ever ( n amitabhs bachpan has lost the last shred of respect for he dared doin the bruce almighty god role n has tried 2 do the freeman act far 2 many times, dude u may b good, but ur voice n narrative can never come close)... i just cant figure out, but i hope the pacific is as blue as have seen it in my dreams... the blue sea calls me 2... i was never a sea person or the beach boy... i loved the mountains, still do, but the three months in chennai n the goa things changed that, though a visit to the beach leaves u smelling like fish, but being there, the silence and the solitude the enormity of the sea gives u is tremendous...

Ek peg hor...

We at drinking anonymous believe that an addition or deletion (which is impossible to do) to the amount you already have in your system shall in no way invigorate or exacerbate your current state of being, for you are in the words of the great Confucius 'Stoned' or as he put it 'Stooooonedaaaa' and that merely means that you are basically a muse for the bar tender, who is giving you shot glasses full of sparkling water, and a bigger muse for the DJ who is laughing his ass off as you proclaim your true love to music, whereas he knows fully well you wont miss a chance to jump on the next girl who passes by, sadly though u have guys aka 'Stags' (thats like the word that will keep u out of the shadiest of places on a weekend) for company.
An even bigger stock o' laughter (and a sinister one at that) u r for all the 'Couples' who waltz by, them laughing in muffled tones over your brotherhood (there cant be a more corny word for it), seeing you all swear it out loud, the bouncer (why do they call them that??? do they bounce u out??? or is it that there huge bulk shall make them bounce???) towering over u, and u resorting to headbang your way into a neck sprain. But they are not happy within, the guy is remniscing of his days of freedom, n the girl (this is an assumption) wondering what it will be like to party with headbanging moronic buch of loosers wud b like???
And then it dawns over you, all of this is unreal, the music the laughter the cynical jibes, the toothless argumentative deliberations by the ones in the distance making out with eyes transfixed at your displays of unbashed freedom. What matters what calls this whole place to disorder and blows it to smithriens is the fact that you represent more then a bunch of guys partying, you represent freedom, freedom from the crutches of ineptitude displayed at work, or the momentary lapse in love you suffered, or from the freak of nature who just did dum u, u represent an aimless youth who could be puking on your table right now, laugh over it and not give a flying fuck to anything... u my friend are utopia, and nothing can take it away from u, not a peg more or less can change you, for u r delerium itself... and i am way 2 jagged 2 write... n high not on alchohol but on a spirit far more sinister...

Catapulted... into delerium...

I walk unsure... i tread with no caution
feet struggling to find the ground... head buzzing
I glugged a lot... usually do... nothing new
but then someone came and added a few
lines... a few breaths of delerium... saw me flying
I feel like dying... i wish i bled
lord kill me before am dead
the eyes seem a darker shade of crimson today... the skin...
a paler shade of white...akin...
to a somber summers day...
sun burning...life retreating... feet not sure where to head today...
i like blowing smoke rings... cant quite...
get the touch right...
or maybe its too messed up in the head...
am headed where feet are led...
and to where i dont know... the cliff that seemed to far...
am i following a star... or is my mind still at war..
with my body for i feel like diving...
off this thing and not surviving...
ahh miasma...delerium... unsure i stand on the thores...
of hell and life... on the shores...
of nothingness... entrapped unsure... free..
i let this one be...
no longer at the shore...
now u see me no more...
gone beyond the border where life meets retreat...
in hell... i am... dragged behind my feet...

The jokes on me buddy...

Staring down the gallows... my neck in the noose...
I feel like tappin... feeling foot loose...
Oh boy who plays that music that distant sound...
Shit i forgot am on shaky ground...
A step going wrong and its heaven forbid...
Or hell cuse they count the shit u did...
So what do i do.. do i dance and die...
Or do i let it be... and say good bye...
Oh what the hell i am dead any ways...
Dance or stand its end of days...
But why am i here what brings the end near...
So i got a tale would u wanna hear...

yeah rite shut them tight those ears u got...
for boy i got balls n u do not...
my mistake my error my folly is this...
that i always end up like this..
between the devil and the deep blue sea...
and then the gallows too come calling on me...
and i chose to die every single time sun would rise...
hell this time too it aint no surprise...
that dance has to die... in the watery grave...
And naah theres no last kiss or nothing i shall save...
all i'll ask is for the grave digger to dig this un shallow...
fell the rain... not the gallow...
and then again theres a story 2 study..
but welll the jokes on me buddy....

random killings of a blog on a midsummer night...

Some sleight of hand... and some mere twist of fate brings me here... i donno how to put it... i donno how u might take it... and i dong really know whether to actually go ahead and say it or not... but yeah its true... its for real... and blame it on balmy faith... or blame it on life itself... but we are where we are... we live the way we do... so distant and disjoint from each other and so very sure we are of lives we lead and of this that in no way or in for no reason will lives be intertwined and meshed up ever by any freak of nature or man... we shall continue to remain disjoint and dissacosiated for echleons to come... and am i supposed to argue or am i supposed to type in the winsome and confusing hi every single day knowing very well that the response shall never be forthcoming... not in this life... for in this life i aint endowed with perfection as we know it... so well lets leave it at that... or rahter park the issue for the moment...
the bone of contention is a what if... what if lives were to not merely exchange glances... but rather there is a bigger deeper more planned interconnect somewhere not 2 far away... or maybe its just me dreaming away hoping against hope though so sure that there is nothing coming out of this sortee i am flying...i might as well radio in a may day... and crash land or chute out while the flights in the air... for its always 2 late for me... theres always a tomorrow to look upto... a yesterday to forget...a today to mess up... so maybe i will rather fcuk up my case 2day... and let your memoirs be yesterday once more... and may i just not only sleep when i close my eyes... i wake up anew afresh alive...

reality no???

Boy oh boy... do we have a slew of reality shows or what...the influx from the holy states is kinda depressingly refreshingly idiotic... and we have people turning out in hordes to bow in respect and go bonkers over them... it all started when amitabh bhai took people up the societal ladder by askin no more then 10 questions and today it reached the apogee... a score of 20 somethings fighting it out purrrfect bitchy cat style over 20 something wannabees... and us all at home laughing our asses off over the sheer dumbness and idiocity of the stuff they say... englsih so sinly revered by wren and martin blown to tatters by these damsels who rather be uttering the profanities in aamchi mumbaiyaa maan kee hindi or punjabii... them being forced to swear in a language they are rather 2 gauche at...
and then u have the crooners... the dancers... the comic acts... all baring their soul and life in front of a partisan unquestioning polarised crippled in the head crowd...and some judges who wake up with a script in hand of the fights they have to ensure... and the best of the lot are the ones who judge ur singing talent... singers n especially those of repute r good sitting where they r... but u hve music directors who put eric clapton and roger waters together to make it work in some hindi song judging u... or better still u wud have some actor who last sang in a washroom... n then u see the same guy judging a dance show with his own moves choreographed by someone...
where am i getting at??? nowhere... i wish they played splitsvilla all day long i wud tape it all show these chicks what they were talking about when they r 60 somthing and also their kids kids this is what ur granny was like... a PMS'd something with a lose lashing tongue... boy i hate em... i hate these shows... i feel like smashing the tube... or rather turning to floyd for help..