Scribbles

Someone has rightly said- Scribble down stuff so that you learn to scribble down stuff.

I have no idea what prompted the above personality to make this highly logical statement public. Crap, I say, should be pushed into the furthest depths of our minds.
Anyways- we can, conveniently, leave aside the fact that the mentioned personality is none other royalty than me; and progress to more comfortable issues at hand.
Like- reading this post! Yay! :P

My eyes, though Myopic, stay open and look at the world with curiosity.
My eyes, though covered with 'goggles', look at the various colors of insanity around.
My eyes, though armed with eyelashes and heavy specs, need to close down when dust finds its way into them.
And chemicals in my brain trade places, the Rinkals.. ahem.. the 'wrinkles' in my brain shift around a bit and help form a new memory.
A memory, immortalizing, the action of noble craziness that has passed my nobler eye.

Crazy actions are actions of God. Why?
Because they are not the actions of Satan. :P
Alright.. pushing the crap way behind...

Sparrow Saga:
Our house entertains a family of house sparrows one after another. They are sensible enough to come one by one and that ensures we get no squabbling between sparrow neighbors. One such sparrow found it fit to lay eggs behind the Speaker System. Every night the male sparrow made sure he is out of the house, tucked away in some dark foliage. The female one flew around the house till it was dark inside too.
Maybe this affected her tiny brain or she was just a nasty little creature- but she developed one weird habit. She started offering us her shit.
Now was it with an intention of giving us a gift for our hospitality?
Or was it just her method of cleaning up her nest?
Whatever... she, without fail, picked up a bunch of her droppings from her nest in her BEAK and neatly flew down on our carpet. Then, she actually KEPT the droppings (usually greyish brown, occasionally beige) on our carpet and flew around doing her errands. That cheeky bird KEPT droppings everyday on our carpet. Everyday. Without fail. Now this is some fat-headed activity or what?

Tale of a Genius Builder/Contractor/that bloke who digs up the roads!:
Come monsoon and you can tell it by the cloudy skies.
Come monsoon and you can tell it by the dug-up road outside Kalyan (E) rail-station.
Precisely a year ago, some bird-brained fella (who may be any of the above mentioned royalties) thought it fit to uproot all the trees in a certain plot of land and dig it all up.
This was a week before monsoon.
So when the rains came, the plot of land was prepared to be a BIG pain in the arse.
It was ensured that we'll have a lousy monsoon full of muddy, slushy treks everyday to the station. During the summer, we had a tar road. During monsoon, some d***-heads covered it all with MUD. We said alright, may God pretend to forget them. :P
Now, again in Summer'09, we had a good tar road.
Again- in Monsoon'09, preparations were underway since last two weeks in full gusto! Truckloads of mud was dumped on the suffering tar road.
Yes dear people, they have successfully made sure that the muddy, slushy path will make its presence felt during this monsoon.
What kind of stupidity is this?
Can't they push these whims under the non-existent depths of their non-existent minds?
Maybe the non-existence is the problem... but the heck!
How thick can they get?!

Delta Force (PC Game):
Terrorists are all over the place. They stand on pre-determined spots, NEVER move even if their comrade gets shot in the head. They stand there.. waiting to be killed.
How to kill them?
Very easy. Shoot them wherever you want. In the leg, in the groin or if you want to- in the head. They die with one bullet. Shoot them in the toes, they will die.
Motivation to Die, people.
You are gifted with a (gun) sniper cum semi-auto with a burst option too. You carry two bags of dynamite, 10 grenades. You can still climb up a mountain in no time and can climb a ruddy Pyramid right up to it's tip too! :D
You can kill from a distance of your choice while terrorists just stand there holding their silly rifles. They can't hit you unless you're a few meters away from them. Because they are trained to hit... er, nothing. They can't hit nothing from more than 10 meters away.
Also, you need to take minimum 10 bullets to die, mind you.
And then, even if you are, say, 4 meters away from an enemy, he will just stand there waiting, pointing the gun at you. He gives you time to shoot in his hair. And when you do, he dies.
Challenging game, yes sir.

Counter Strike (Another freakin' game):
The enemy can't wait to kill you. That's about it. :)

'Green Day' Interview on VH1:
What is 'Green Day'? For you dunderheads who got it right- it is a punk rock band. :P
Recently saw the vocalist giving a highly intellectual interview on television. He 'you know' spoke precious little 'you know' other than 'you know' the quoted words but 'you know' whatever he 'you know' spoke was pretty 'you know' good.
All I got is 'you know' they have a 'you know' mountain to climb and they are 'you know' coming out with a brand new 'you know' album! Yay!
It is called 21st Century 'you know' Breakdown.
Yeah mate, I know.
:P

Well fellas, this is it for now.
You keep grinning all around and pass me a couple of Lindts whenever you do or not feel like it.
:)

Melancholies and Me

Here I am again.
This post is NOT a result of deep thinking.
This post is NOT a result of lack of thinking.
This post is NOT a result of Constructive Intervals in studying.
It is more like- Feeling stuck.
I'm ruddy feeling stuck!
Like a thread of spinach between my 5 and 6. (For you 3 dentists who'll be reading this)

What do I do when I'm bored, feeling stagnant and there is no output on the work front?
I put on Pink Floyd, sit on my chair and start typing.
The course books lie forgotten on the bed and since it's usually night-time, the pigeons (thankfully for them) are silent too. That saves me a couple of murders. (Those fools are never alone)

I am an Engineering student.
- A student of technology with inclinations towards extracurricular activities which involve almost everything except sports. Perfectly alright.
- A student of technology who can think logically, has analytical abilities and can put own matters to-the-point. Tend to become dreamy and poetic too. Perfectly alright.
- A student of technology with disrespect for pointless authority and brainless slogging. Certain deep-rooted habits thanks to which he does put off studying simply because it does not interest him. Now that's not perfectly alright and here the problems start creeping in.

I'll be frank.
I don't know why I took up Engineering.

Not that it's not interesting, it is. It is interesting because I understand it. Why certain materials are chosen, why we expect machines to work in a certain manner and how can we combine two machines to create an altogether new one. It is fun. :)

Is it because I'm failing to keep up with the marks?
Can failure be a trigger for this boredom? That means I'm running away from the situation. Failure to keep up means failure to succeed and that can only mean lack of efforts. This because I just give up what I'm doing when I'm bored. Like in this very case.
I'm writing crap when I could be studying Cathode Ray Oscilloscopes.

Is it because I would have had better academic performance in some other career line?
Again- this is running away. :P
I tried getting in elsewhere and as stars would have it- I was not able to.. thanks to my awful luck. Came along Engineering with its swagger.
I may say parents pressurized me indirectly... I may say it was my decision while parental units merely laid out the facts in front of me.

Point is-
I'm in the field and even if I can still get out, I won't goddamnit!
I did agree to take up this course whatever may be the reason. It was my decision.
I have no idea whether the pressure existed or not.. but I was never forced.
And if I'm in a soup, it's only because of me.
And getting out is my job. *firm jaw*

Failure on any front is bad. It makes the whole world look sick.
Other reasons for my dark melancholies tonight-
- No life outside the house. Exams. Boredom. My dirt.
- Certain things heading nowhere. No direction. Pointlessness. Loathe it.
- No cycling. No swimming. No treks.

I just wish I had more time and more options. To try out stuff.
I may be slow on some fronts but then.. I know what I'm good at.
I feel lonely when I think of reactions to come.
I feel lonely even though there are no expectations... just a mild sense of duty.
I feel lonely because the simplest job seems the toughest for me.

I hate the ties we have with the closest people in our lives... because then we are not the only ones to feel the ripples.
I take the plunge, they feel the ripples too.
I risk the pain, they feel it too.
I bite the dust, they get the bitter taste too.
Because they love me.

Be a support system. Feed a sapling. Give it a Greenhouse.
Don't feel sad when it dies.
It grows again because it takes time to figure out what's the best light to live in.

Talk of a selfish lad?
Talk of a lazy slacker?
Talk of a procrastinator?
Talk of a human in denial mode?
Talk of a person who's making excuses?
Talk of an Individual?
Maybe... call it what you want to. In any case, it's Me.

I'm surprised at what the write-up turned out to be in the end. The thoughts tumbled out and I know the three people who know me best are going to understand what it means.
I'm learning. I'm growing up. I'm afraid it has to be against the usual norms.

Love you, family.

Those Doggy Eyes

I was little... and in Aurangabad at my Mama's place.
He had recently bought two pups and I was all excited on seeing them.
We love dogs.. the entire family. :)
One was a jet-black Labrador... a regal fellow with an apt name- Commander.
The other was an Alsatian and joyful in every sense- Bruno.

I loved them both. Commander somehow was serene and seemed more intelligent. He always found himself the best place to sit, best place to sleep and Bruno never used to mind.
Both were dogs and both were pretty fun to be around with.
I loved their eyes... full of trust and frank curiosity.
And little pink tongues which got larger with months. :)

Commander died soon after.
His death was a nasty shock.
It was on the day we were leaving Aurangabad for my place..
He was sitting in the living room... and was slightly ill..
I remember holding the Black Lab's head in my hands, looking in those dark brown eyes and telling him firmly to get better. I had told him that I wanted to see him running around the next time I visit the place.
He had breathed heavily on my hands.. and a tender lick on my palms.
He died 15 minutes after we left.
I cried myself to sleep that night.

Bruno lived to a ripe old age and every time I think of him, I can't help but smile.
He was such a lovable and adorable old thing! :)
He was always around almost since long as I can remember.
He succumbed to a long illness today afternoon...

When Bingo (an Alsatian, the one before these two) had passed away, I don't even remember why. But I used to see his face in the clouds above and always used to cry to myself.
Now, when I heard of Bruno, I found myself staring at the green trees and crying to myself again.
I missed all the time I had with him... and thought how time changed us all.. how time took away Bruno and my child-like innocence of the yesteryear too..
I thought of all his antics and smiled.
I smiled then... with tears in my eyes.

I was with Bruno and Ishan, my crazy cousin. :)
We were having grapes and Bruno was enthusiastic as ever. I distracted the mutt with one grape while Ishan threw another in his gaping mouth. His confusion was worth seeing.
hahaha! That was our Bruno in his element.

The way he ran hysterically when in an open ground. I and Ishan let him loose and ran like crazy. He used to join us for sometime.. then made up his little mind and set off sniffing for adventures. And followed then a wild chase! :D
Trick: Run in an exactly opposite direction. Bruno will follow with full pace thinking you're up to something and then comes the time to grab him! The trick used to work.. with Bruno feeling stupid. :) Loved him!

Then in the veranda of my Mama's place, Bruno's house.
I will always miss Bruno standing on his hind legs, looking for a wet lick and lots of pats, with his mouth open and tongue hanging out. His ears tightly stretched back, he looked so damn sweet, he never failed to make us hug him.
It always looked like he was grinning wide... always.

The way he used to bark and the way he used to run. :D
He barked at people who must have seen him since he was a pup! He had his reasons.
He never barked at cats.. at least not when I was around him.
And, for his own reasons, he took an instant liking to my bro-in-law, who was a total stranger! :D

He used to run as if he is chasing the wind! Ears again pulled back and a run which resembled a peaceful trot.. only at high speed. He always looked crooked while running but then, Bruno was one unique dawg! :D

I loved to look into his eyes.
Holding his head in my hands, I used to look deep into them and speak.
Sometimes he used to listen.. sometimes he lost interest and started licking my nose. :P
Loved him.

He was 'Wedoba Brunoba'. :)
Here- 'Weda' is a lovingly used term for his doggy stupidity. :)

I feel sorry for the times I'd met him recently. He was old and a new Lab pup was running around in the house. Scooby, as we called him, was a joyful little thing too.. moreover a brat.
Bruno used to stay in his kennel whenever I visited the place.
Silent and gazing listlessly.
I talked to him but he never showed any real interest.
I regret that I found myself visiting him less frequently too.
Will I ignore the people I love if they're ill and not in the mood to play around?
But I did ignore Bruno.
I forgot that he is not made to just play and bark around.
He was ill and whether he understood or not, I should have just stayed there with him.
So what if he ain't licking me? I loved him and he did love me too.
An old dog's love, it was.

I'll miss his barks and his licks.
I'll miss how messily he used to have his food.
I'll miss his pulls on the leash.
I'll miss his cocked up ears.
I'll miss his impatience... I'll miss his wagging tail.

Most of all, I'll miss his eyes... his brown doggy eyes.
Love you Bruno.
:)

Eleven

Why Eleven? What is Eleven?
How do you write Eleven?
Two vertical, parallel lines which start from the same base line... having no other relation whatsoever.
Eleven is a beginning of a new Decade after the End which is Ten.
So many meanings hidden in the number.
Or rather- so many things which can be analyzed once the wheels of thought are set in motion...

I and the girl (I used to date) planned a meet one day.
It was, perhaps, supposed to show ourselves that the hatchet has been well and truly buried.

I'd suggested a comfortable Coffee bar. She suggested the railway station.
She had her way because she had her reasons. The same reasons.
Reasons which held no logic to me, as always.

The platform was dusty, the platform was dark and empty.
She stood there sipping a cold drink as I walked towards her...
She looked just like she had looked a year back... the last time I'd seen her.
Her dark eyes spoke volumes as they always did, but hid mysteries.
Her smile, for some comprehensible reason, failing to melt my heart.
But it was sweet nonetheless.

We spoke of nothing in particular.
Just about random things going on in our lives and the new individuals we are with now.
It all seemed normal.
Was this a start to a new relationship as friends?
They do sing past lovers can become the best of friends.

Er... no. Nothing of the sort.
We did part like pals.
But soon, we argued again and things fell back into place.
Nothing had changed.
I still saw her as a 'Dimwit' while she believed I'm 'Weak'.
We have not talked since then... and don't even intend to.
No regrets.

For the first time- the stark reality of the situation struck me.
We were two individuals who saw no reason to stay in touch with each other.
Two humans whose lives would go on... on parallel tracks.
But who saw no reason to bridge whatever gap they had created.

Why 'Eleven' and 'Parallel'?
Why not a 'Y' shape which so clearly suggests separation after being together?

• Because she won't ever be inaccessible. We will always have common friends and be always within reach. Only that- we are not interested.
• Because we ended a thing which can be started on a whole new note. The choice was ours.
• Because our lives were always parallel... but we had decided to bridge it. We had decided to hold hands over the gap dividing us. Now- we had let go.
  

Two completely different persons.
That evening I realized what it feels to meet a person who was once loved dearly... and how the things have drastically changed since then.

Is it really possible that a human can feel no need for another human he has known?
Man is a social animal for all we know.

Yes, it is.
It is with our emotions that we create illusions which suggest that our lives are not parallel.
It is with emotions that we ignore the practical facts needed to solve a situation.
It is with emotions that we are often misled.
Our lives are parallel indeed.
Which either makes them so easy to live or so hard to understand.

People with whom to hold hands... people at whom to smile across the boundaries... but you can't ever pull them on your path.
We all exist in our parallel lives... living with everyone but alone.
Like I've said- We Shit Alone ;)

It ain't bad to assume stuff if it makes it easier for you to live with stuff.
But Illusions can hurt.
It is up to you to understand the difference between an Illusion and Reality.
:)

My Black Cup

This post is for a pal who's broadening her horizon of coffee-makers. No sarcasm- I appreciate her courage to try new tastes... and accept them. Guess she'll be the only one to understand what I mean.
:)

Someone wanted to make me a cuppa coffee that morning.
I refused the offer.
They insisted.
I said- "Okay."
The coffee was milky... unlike the way I like it.
It came in one of their white cups.
Not in my Black one.
I did not like it.
Yet I took it.
It did not go down well.

The following morning came the same offer.
Again I refused.
They insisted.
I stood my ground.
We argued.
I gave in and warned them about the milk.
The coffee was sweet... unlike the way I like it.
It came in a white cup again, not in my Black.
I did not like it.
Yet I sipped at it.
It failed to go down well.

The third morning I was woken up again.
I was forced to have coffee being made for me.
In a white cup, not in my Black.
It was bitter.
Not the way I love it.
I threw it down the drain.

The fourth dawn I lay awake.
The sun rose.
I went and made my own coffee.
I chose my Black cup.
Not one of their white ones...
Just the right amount of milk and water.
Just the right amount of sugar.
Just the right amount of coffee beans.
Just the right aroma reviving my senses.

I made them take it.
They did not like it.
It did not go down well with them.
But it did go down well with me.

Because it was the way I love it.
Because that's the way my taste-buds love it.
It was the way I live.
Not the way they live.

Life is a cuppa coffee.
Make it the way you like it.

Or just live with the way they make it.
:)

Aunties, Platforms and Us

-First and Foremost, I'll thank my cellphone to have woken me up so promptly at 2 in the morning. Thank you, old thing. :)
-Second and 'Foremore', I thank Mitali whole-heartedly who made me think of writing this post.
-Third and 'not-foremost-neither-foremore', I thank the Bassist of 'System of a Down' for entertaining me with his antics at 3 in the morning.
\m/

I had once rightly stated that the most irritating creatures on railway platforms are females.
Even females around me had agreed. Such nobility.
But then- I was just 16. I had just started using suburban trains in Mumbai.
I was yet to see a highly gifted subclass of females on the not-so-but-very crowded railway stations.
Aunties with all their slow, sweaty charisma.

I'm stereotyping this species. Usually fat, but ample of them skinny.
Lack of an ability to speak softly. As a result- they tend to yell.
Lack of an ability to think clearly. As a result- they tend to not think at all.
Lack of an ability to walk fast (YES!). As a result- they kinda waddle.
I am often kept worried that they will lose their balance and fall just because of their sheer speed of waddling.

They love to:

1. Glare - We'll get back to finer details of this highly entertaining characteristic. Just keep in mind that they luurve to glare at everyone and everything.
2. Argue/Fight/Make their displeasure known - Take it as you see it. According to me, this specific characteristic is a right (or wrong) pain in the a**.
3. Bitch - Avoid standing anywhere near the partition of ladies-gents compartment unless you want to hear a thousand and eight stories about a hundred and sixty three Aunty lives.
4. Be a Juggernaught - Remember blokes-who-value-their-lives, never stand between an Aunty and her destination. When Aunty wants to go somewhere and the time on her fat/skinny wrist is less, there is NO stopping her! She will push/trample/elbow/knee/head-bang her way towards it! So what if there's a crowd of men before her?! It is their ruddy fault they exist to push against!
5. Be a Roadblock - We are not allowed to be a Juggernaught. Because then we would be 'allegedly' sexually assaulting a thoroughly non-sexually attractive Aunty for all we know. Anyways, when the train's coming, all the roads through the female crowd are blocked by Aunties. And they glare at us for asking them to move. Cute guys travel much faster through such hazardous crowds. One can say- they sail through! Aunties are females after all. (Are they really?!) :P
   
6. Maintaining Sanctity - They somehow make up their mind of keeping in check the number of ladies in their compartment and refuse point-blank to accept any more.

Wise thought:
As I had once wisely said and don't hesitate to repeat it whenever needed-
Men push Inside a crowded compartment, Women push Outside.
Now who's behind the strategy?
Yes! Aunties!

So let us glare at the nearest Math textbook we've got (or Biology which some of you losers probably hate) and get a feel of how it feels to be an Aunty.
This specimen of Womankind glares whenever it is pissed off, to make matters clear.
Glaring is actually harmless for the subjects so for entertaining results, let us see ways of pissing an Aunty off while on a Railway platform:

1. Glare at them. This is a trigger and instantly works. For better results, make a deep frown and glare AROUND you. In that way, more Aunties glare back. The deeper their frown, the deeper is their pleasure.Works better if you're wearing black, have longish hair and sport a metal-head beard. (Their husbands must be pretty irritated of what their wives enjoy but hey- this is not my genre of humor! Is it?) :P
2. Have a girl? Hold her hand, hug her, stand close to her, talk to her or just- have her with you. If you're around 18-19 years old, it is enough to piss off a genuine Aunty and voila! Just the fact of having a girl has an Aunty glaring at the two of you!
3. Walking at a good pace and using a cellphone/mp3 player at the same time makes an Aunty feel insecure about the safety of her non-manicured toenails. For no comprehensible reason. She thinks we have nothing better to do but to step on her toes and spoil our shoes. So she glares with a desperate hope of warding us off from her feet.
4. Wearing 'goggles' is not encouraged. An Aunty feels unsure of where exactly we are looking and that prompts her to make quick glances at your dark (hehehe) glasses. Like I'll look at the Aunty instead of the cute chick beside her. :P Motherly instinct regarding cute chicks? Maybe... Not unfounded, her fears are though... strictly in this case.
   
5. You. The very fact that you exist is enough for an already-pissed-off Aunty to glare at you.

Interesting, no?

These aunties find jobs as Government employees, irritating Profs, in banks, other clerical jobs, kitty-parties, Homemakers and How-To-Be-An-Awesome-Aunty institutes.
Yes dear folks, they need to make sure that the coming generation comes up with Aunties too.

More on this subject?
Want to know what makes an Aunty happy?
Want to know how to woo an Aunty's really nice daughter?
Want to know what helps ward off Aunties from platforms?

Really- why bother? :P
And yeah- nothing can ward off Aunties from platforms. It is their home ground. A place where Aunty interns learn from veteran Aunties.

Aunties are here to stay.
Learn to live with them.
How?

Stop giving a ruddy damn.
:)

I'm Drunk

I've heard Mark Knopfler singing-
"When the journey ends in a worthless haze..."
Does it really? Or is the haze as meaningful as we make it?

Needless to say, I'm as drunk right now as would any bloke be without a drop of alcohol in his blood.
I won't say I'm drunk on coffee.
Rather, I'm drunk on Life.

I'm drunk on Successes, am drunk on Failures.
I'm seeing through the ups and the downs and getting drunk on Emotions.
I'm drunk on Time... erm no, rather the lack of it.

I am sober, my speech is not slurring and neither are my eyes unseeing.
I see, clearly, with a certain cold rage towards the plain practicality of living my Life.
Thoughts going haywire and that prompting me to turn to Metal on my music system... with a hope of understanding what the noise inside means.
Self-destruction by blasting my ear-drums?
Removal of thorn by a thorn.
Removal of love by love.
Why remove?

This post is going to be random.

Life and the way we look at it:
A pal once asked me whether she can join the armed forces once her Medical course is over. I pointed out ways to enter Intelligence and Medic services... but no, she wanted to be on the front, fighting the enemies. I asked why and she replied she wanted to experience the thrill.
Thrill?
Computer games teach us lots about the life we live if only we just look around the obvious picture in front of us.

Considering 'Age of Empires'- there is a thrill of leading vast armies into the battle field. We control the destiny of our city.. of our allies and of our enemies. We don't value animated human lives because we look the collective force. We gladly sacrifice our forces for the greater good... safety of larger number of lives and our city.
There is thrill in planning, directing and executing ambushes and strikes.

Coming to 'CounterStrike'- We are part of an elite assault team fighting an equally elite team of terrorists. Difference- we are in the line of fire... difference between life and death is a mere bullet in the head. Our life has no worth but it is a machine and its death causes no direct harm to the mission. If we die, our teammates can step over our dead body to complete the mission.
We die for the greater good? We fight for greater good?
We fight to live. We are motivated to fight but in the end- we fight to live.
We know that if we don't blast the enemy heads, their sniper slugs will find our eyes.
Thrill? What thrill?

There are reasons and plenty of good ones to be out there on the battlefield. Experiencing a certain kind of thrill can't be one. That is not what killing is all about.

'Guns of Navarone' - Alistair Maclean has one of his characters asking the other-
"Why do we kill?"
The reply is one which I'll never forget-
"We kill so that better men may live"

Killing lives is not funny neither is it necessary. But when it is, it has to be done by hearts of stone. Hearts of the Dead. Machines.
We must forget what our life means to us and how deep it is.
We just need the desire to live and live more in order to kill more.

Thrill comes when we hold the reins... not when we are the reins.
When we are the reins- we should just get drunk on Life, focus and shoot the hell out of what we are aiming at.
No emotions, no family, no love but just You and the bull's eye.
A machine made to succeed.

I'm feeling like a machine... a lost machine who has nothing but programmed work to do.
Gah...

Upon the Hills and the Grey arches of the Sky
Travels a lone melody of my Heart
A single Symphony of meaning
Questioning the very reason of Light
The Notes, which I have lost
The Strums, of that one song
Forsaken now, by the Night.

Night is Mine and so is the Day.
There is no Life which denies Light
Contempt at the attempt to forge new Winds
By stifling the freedom of the Skies

Death is glorious when it ends the Ignorant

\m/

We Shit Alone

Of all the things we enjoy doing with the bits of population we are fond of, there are some things which we really prefer to do alone.
Also, in some cases, we've got no choice.

Say- you ask your bud, "Hey mate, I feel my bowels loosening up. Wanna accompany me to the loo?"
Be sure you wont get "Awesome man! Let's go.." as a reply.
So you see, you've got no choice in such cases.

Apply it anywhere... when you are in a shitty situation, you are alone.
And again- it just happens that you're alone and that's always the best way to deal with the crap.

Most of the crappy aka shitty aka pathetic things in life can't be understood by your best mates. These are the elements which come in your inner sphere and it is best others can't invade that space... even though you're willing.
Beyond a certain point, you're always alone in the dark.
It's like you keeping the door open and others not understanding the point of coming in when you're in the middle of excreting excreta.
You Shit Alone.

Interesting thing is- others can decide whether to provide the light or not.
In residences of normal people, the light switches are somewhere near the door so that you don't find yourself stumbling over the non-existent rats in the dark...
Anyways, if you have enough individuals loving you with good intentions for your hygiene, they tend to switch on the light (should be a CFL) if you forget to do so.
That ensures your job is done in a neat way.

Did you understand that they did not trample in and made it easier... but just switched on the light, gave you the needed visual support and thus you had a (hopefully) clean job done.
But hey! You did the job.
You (always) Shit Alone.

Now don't start bugging me by telling your childhood stories. Yes, even my dad/mum have helped me but then.. I was a child! I needed people to help me out of tight situations!
Now that I've grown up, I can get myself out of constipating situations!
I (since long long back) Shit Alone.

And the best thing is-
We always feel better after doing it. That means letting go of ruddy elements (or rather- excreting excreta) makes us feel better and we become a new individual!

So we learn that when we shit alone, with necessary help in form of CFL lights, we always feel better than we used to.
So it is best to understand why we shit alone and get done with it in a nice manner.

Thanks for going through one of my most nonsensical posts... which makes sense in a most nonsensical manner.
But then- this is how I excrete the excreta in my Cranium.
And that too alone.

:)

Indulge in Indelible Ink :P

A couple of my pals voted this time. I am happy for them.
Wish I had voted... but my name was not on the list. hehe

But hey- what the heck is this 'Vote for India' tag-line?!
Does it make any sense? Well.. kinda it does.

We can't really vote for the parties keeping their Prime Ministerial candidates in mind.
Why vote for goons in our area when their party has a genuine good bloke to take the seat in Delhi?

And it is obvious.
People do vote keeping their locality in mind.
A friend of mine votes for a certain politician just because having him as her neighbor helps keep water and electricity problems at bay. Corruption is deep, no one can deny it.

Keeping this case aside- we must vote for good fellows without giving a damn to which party they belong. If that guy/lady can bring in some reforms, what else do we need?

We vote for good guys and it results in the following-

• Party heads see the need to field good candidates in that particular area since people are aware
• They'll need to field good candidates at many places if everyone becomes aware, becomes a good citizen and reads this blog. :P
• And so the good layer will rise
• Which will result in better politicians for India!

And that is the end result.

So, five years from now, I'll be voting for India!
:P

Smile and the Frown

It is a day like any other.
Erm.. no. It is not.

I'm just one young adult among thousands who sincerely loves his one girl.
No, I am not even sure I do.
I am not sure whether I should.

Listening to Pink Floyd is soothing my senses, having coffee is helping me.
Nope, the combination is just making me think more and more.

I am doing what I must at the moment. I am studying hard for my exams.
Right now- I am not. I'm trying hard to make sense out of the jumble in my mind.

I argued with one of those few best friends I have.
Reason- anger on my part for a certain kind of denial. I feel it is justified.
I am not sure it is justified. Why can't it all be much simpler?

It is dark outside... and warm.
I find light inside me... vivid, bright, uncomfortable light. And I am cold.
My eyes are cold.

The paths to be taken are before me. I can choose them when time comes.
Time will have to be persuaded?

Life is a cake and I have everything I want. I have everything others want.
I don't have things the way I want them to be.

I love the people around me. I love my family. I love the rest.
I don't love them all.
Why?

I want to reach out. I want to grab the finer things in my life.
I want them to come on their own. If they are my destiny, they will.

I want to conquer.
I am willing to fight for every single part of my conquest.

I want to grow.
I am willing to remove every single ounce of imperfection from my soul.

I want to love.
Not one girl, not one nation, but the world I build around me.
What is life without this effort?

I am feeling good inside and I am satisfied.
There are dark melancholies which won't go unless... *sighs*

There is a smile on my face.
Or is there a frown?

I live through them both.
I live.