Never. Ever.

Its been some days, and I still cannot believe, digest, accept, understand, come into terms or whatever with the news. Some body died, because of a heart attack. I continued to be in a good mood. I am happy. The news did nothing to my mood or level of frustration. After all, my inner self has refused to believe the news.

Jacko is dead.

I remember the first time I have started to listen to any music which is english. That was Bad. The Album Bad. He looked ackward. He had long hair which I thought looked ugly, had a glove in one hand and other weird things. He used to hold on to his crotch while he danced. Well, the music was better. I must have been a 12 yo then.

There were no CDs then. In fact, CDs were yet to be invented. A tape recorder was a luxury in and around my household. I remember we had one at home. But cassets were too expensive. So I would go to this friends place where he had some cassets, and listen to them there.

A couple of years later, and I remember I had all his albums till date. I collected all the lyrics (There was no computer, forget the internet), and would sing and dance to the music. His attire, his attitude and all other weird things were quite understandable. He was all. I never even felt like listening to any other band.

Years have passed by, and its been a long 6 years since I have listened to Jacko. Pop music has moved out of my list of preferences. But still, the photos and the pieces of videos that flash frequently on the television screen now brings in Nostalgic moments. The music was an inspiration. Was a relief. His last Album was hopeless. True. But he is irreplacable.

I am a hardcore and die hard fan of the 60s and 70s classical scenario. Led Zeppelin, Jim Morrison, Thin Lizzy, Grateful dead and Blue oyster Cult and all have no musical relation to Michael Jackson. Yet, He is the only singer, whos all songs I have heard, whos all Albums I have purchased, and He is the only singer who I have been a die hard fan in a streak for more than 5 years. Musically, I felt him better than the Beatles. And no one is ever going to sing and Dance like him.

The King of pop is dead.

Sad, the throne will never be used.

Never, Ever.

all along the watchtower again.

After 29 years, I got someone back.

Sigh.

I always wished colleges were all about understanding,

and not learning.

All they do is manufacture people who can reproduce in paper something they memorised on the day of the exam eve.

Wild, Wild, and pricky.

Yes, I knew, for some reasons, I need to blog. I need to.

I need to let out a stream of mixed and uncooked emotions. Its like you had a lot of mixed stuff down your stomach and you want to puke. You want to because you dont want to have them down your stomach. You want an empty stomach.

Yes, I need an empty mind.

People used to tell me, that an athiest CANNOT believe in fate. I disagree. I have no reason to believe GOD exists, and I have solid reasons to believe in something called fate. Fate is that something which makes me feel good when down, and that makes me feel bad when I achieve something.

Its past 12 here in singapore, its hot and I have a running nose. The climate has taken a toll on me. Its worse than India. Anyway I will be back to India in a couple of days, So thats fine.

Its not that a running nose is a possible sympton for the notorious H1N1, that bugs me now. There are a lot of things that bug me now, and I am down. Yes. I just cant make out what I am supposed to do with life.

I meet a lot of people here, and every one have family. Some have kids, some are trying hard to, and some are expecting. Well there are two small kids running around here, in the flat where I live, and they happen to be my niece and nephew.

Well, obviously, I aint married yet, but many guys my age are married and are having a couple of kids. They work, they earn money, they send home some money, they save, they spend for the family.

I work, I spend for me, doesnt give much to my parents, I waste money for no reason, I dont save, I do not have a permanent Income, I live on the edge when It comes to career, and I dont like to have My own kids. In fact, I cant imagine. I cannot imagine me raising a kid. I cant imagine me spending for my wife and kid. I cant imagine me spending for wedding. All these things seems meaningless to me, when I say that, its really hopelessly meaningless to me now.

I feel free, I feel happy and relieved when without committment to anyone. With committment, I felt bounded, I felt tied, I felt chained. I feel jailed.

But then, I am free now. but, what am I supposed to do now!

I always dreamed of holidays, and moving around with some cash. Yes, I am lucky, I have visited a few countries, have visited many places I wanted to.

I always thought, sitting on a street restaurant with a can of beer and plenty of time and nothing much to worry about is a perfect holiday. Well, it happened. but, I was bored to death.

I have terribly miscalculated about the things that could make me happy. As I go through and try hard and achieve them, one my one, by spending insanely huge amount of money that I have struggled pretty well for, I realise they dont make me feel really good. Nothing seems to make me feel good. But everything seems to make me feel bad.

The fate, as I see it, is never cruel. Well.. I have had to struggle a lot. I had gone through a series of bad luck. No good thing came to me easily, but when they came, they didnt make me feel good either. Fate, or destiny have given me enough things that I could have been happy, but whos to blame If i didnt feel it.

I know.. as an ardent believer of fate, all I have to do is go through, as even your emotions are what you get, not you take. You live, you go through, you die, and when you feel like you have solved the Jigsaw puzzle as to on why we live, the whole life seems to be too meaningless.

Everyone have this common goal of having more happy times than bad times, and thats why they study well, work hard, get a job, earn money by all possible means, have children, have fun, be happy, satiate your hunger, your ego, and your dream. The goal is, to have more happy times.

Somehow, or for reasons unknown, and will be never answered, we know there aint any formula for that. The society seems to believe in a set of rules, that they say, would give us more good times. Morality, they call it.

I have broken almost all morality rules that exist in my part of world. Ironically, those moments, are among the few moments that made me fell good, those moments are those i love to look at, sometimes. I know I have hurt many, and many have hurt me, in many ways. Cnat stop it, though.

I feel like the odd one out. I feel like the outcast. I can feel the hate showed on me by many. Yet, I perfer to be myself.

Yet, I feel at times, that I need to be loved. I have lived a major chunk of my life, without the feeling of loved and to love. Of course, I have had numerous crushes, that which lasted for one hour to that lasted for a few months. I was hopeless when it comes to meeting girls, I never used to feel bad about it, probably because I was too busy that I never seriously felt a need for a girlfriend. Yes, I had some relationships where some girls did come close to me, but it never developed - rather I didnt allow it to develop - It was too ackward. Committment was unthinkable. All I ever wanted was a one night stand - those days.

Nothing is static - I guess.

That phenomenon of aging did make me look old, and another phenomenon called alcohol have taken toll of my health, that I look bloated, horrible and sometimes, Ugly. The grown hair have only added to it, as people say. I neve used to mind, except for my tummy. Never cared what people say - all I want is long hair..

My mind have gone younger - to the likes of a teenager. The need to be loved have started poking my mind. Its strange and I am not used to that kind of an emotion. I need it sometimes, and I dont need it sometimes. For reasons still unknown, I am being routed through a road I am not used to.

I cant, and I dont have a clue what to do. Its complex, but nothing serious. I am, for sure going through a mental struggle. But I have money to eat, clothes, and a house. There are people who doesnt have all of these.

I am not worried. I feel low. I feel philosophical. I stare at myself as to why I have to make my thoughts public. There aint much people reading my blogs, but people who read them knows me. I dont think many of them expect me to have thoughts like this. I expect people to look at me in a different way, I cant say good or bad. I dont have to worry good or bad.

Because, I believe in destiny, and All that is mine will come to me, good or bad.

.

Pretense.

.

I refuse to pretend. Thats what I thought I do. But on a deeper second thought, I am not quite sure of that. I stare back at myself with another set of eyes and thats not the picture I see.

I refuse to believe that I am in trouble. I refuse to see the volcano about to erupt. I know what I do is wrong. What I am doing is exactly what I love to accuse other people of. What I do is exactly what I wonder WHY people do. I am dragging myself to a point where other people along with me can get hurt.

Still I refuse to believe it. I turn my back at the bigger picture.

May be its because of the peace of mind that I get for the time being. May be, I believe this is what I used to miss all my life. There was always many things missing, and I used to fill the missing parts with the pieces I used to get as I move on. Nothing seemed to fit in, but this.

I know this piece will fall apart as time goes. But I do not want to let it go now. I want to hold on to it as much as possible. Good things seldom lasts, and I know it pretty well.

I feel younger. I feel like a teenager. I know the number 3 is waiting at my doorstep, ready to replace the number 2. I am almost at the mid part of my life. I am scared. But I pretend I am not.

I pretend to act my age.

I refuse to think my age.

I pretend I am young.

I am getting complicated.

I am living without directions.

I am living without a will.

I pretend to be happy.

I pretend to be myself.

I pretend to love.

Or may be, I aint pretending.

I just dont even know If I am pretending or not.

I just dont even know If I am happy or not.

I just dont even know.

.

Mistakes in an infinite while loop.

I do not know how I got trapped into this. I persist to continue. Its like repeating the same old mistakes is what i was born for.

Out of the numerous little examples. The guy(me) who have read none but one novel in the last 12 years, prefer to browse through the book store at the airport. And for no reason, instinct tells him he has to read a book, right now. Yes, I was travelling on a tight budget, so I know (I REPEAT, I KNOW) every penny counts. And suddenly, from thin air, i developed a fancy towards Salman Rushdie, and I end up buying a book of him which costs me 650. Indian rupee of course. I tried reading it, and developed this affinity to deep sleep, so I stopped reading and went for a hot cup of coffee. And now the book lay besides me, sporting a sarcastic smile. I dont think I will read that book again. I know, because my room is filled with a lot of such books. Its not the first, second, third or the tenth time I am doing this.

I hate a lot of people, probably because they are doing well in life, better than me. And when I stare and peek into their way of life, I tend to realise they prefer to do the "Right" things. Right things, according to their definition turns to be right in the long run, while Right things in my definition turns to be wrong most of the time. Its time to define definitions, and as I do it, i also realises there aint better way to waste time.

So I am back into square one, trying hard to believe what I did is right. Trying hard to believe t was right to waste Rs 650 for no reason while on a strict budget. Talking to myself and convincing my brain never to regret.

For me, I am the Mr right. If I cant be the Mr right for me, how can I be to any one else?

At least for now, I have to believe I AM right.