New world.

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Will a brand new world help?
It was brand new when it started, after all.

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:(

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I will miss 180.149.49.#

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Fitting in.

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Its like the wrong piece in a Jigsaw Puzzle. Sticks out. No matter how hard you try to fit in. In the end, only to be thrown away or torn by the impatient kid.

Useless to the user. Good only to be recycled.

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To live or not to.

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Its true, I am not in the influence of any kind of alcohol right now. I can still write, contrary to the popular belief. I can think, I can argue. I can be philosophical.

I wonder if I should open up that bottle of vodka hiding behind me. I remember somebody said -

"Alcohol does not answer your questions. But it helps you to forget the question"

Well,, i do not have a question right now. I am NOT frustrated now. I do not feel I need to die. I do not feel I need to work. I do not feel like calling anyone. I do not feel like watching videos of people having sex. I do not feel like I need to fix up a job ASAP. I just feel like laying down and feel good. I feel like sleeping. I feel like walking down a misty winding road with white lights on either sides. I feel like floating on a piece of carpet like Alladin used to. I feel like falling into sleep on the lap of a woman, and falling in love with her.

Things change. From the times when I used to feel horrible, from the times when I feel serene, The times when I felt pleasure, from the times when I felt orgasm. Times when I wanted to die, when I wanted to live. When I wanted to dream. When I wanted not to dream.

Is it our choice, what to feel? Is it our choice, what to take??

What is, the matter of life and death??

I know a teenager who tried to kill herself, because the guy who she had a secret crush with, started dating another girl. He didnt even knew she existed. I know somebody who thought it was a matter of life and death, if she flunked her exams. I knew someone who would want to die because he could not find a good enough reason to live (That would be me).

You still think it is our choice??

Do I care? All I need is a pint of whiskey to forget the question.

You can opt to live without worrying about things, and you can opt to live worrying about things.

Either way, you end up in the same way. None of you gets a trophy to carry to your grave.

God and his crimes.

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What if, GOD could be tried for his crimes??

The whole of hell wont be enough.

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late night blues

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Empty cups hold used up leaves

Another night devoid of sleep

Hear the starving souls weep

right behind our fears

Let the ghosts play on

Can we bring them to a board

Where we move the numbers

To listen to a long lost soul

Tiny grains of shiny sand

Thrown to the heavens once again

See the freckle faced moon

Try to outshine the sun

Thin films of midnight breeze

soothe down the night again

Let the spirits of the once together hearts

Lay close on each others arms

Let the candle burn on

Till the night burns down

Till the morning bird sings

The song of a brand new day

Wished the night lived on

Till I washed my blues down

Till I wished my dreams well on

Till I want to move on.

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Sinking.

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Sick

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..of these every droopy eyes aching to close down at every possible opportunity. Every instant seems to pull me down to eternal laziness. Nothing seems to be motivating. An upset stomach, well protected by a thick layer of fat deposit, caused probably by eating upto ten bars of chocolate a day,, Tired legs and hands, an ever clogged throat, which i put the blame on for my notorious singing skills, Lazy molecules of blood with less counts of hemoglobin, a seriously unconnected brain which always does the right thing at exactly the wrong time, a memory with slow fetch cycles and zero error correction, and a mind walking through the blurred thin line between the two sides of sanity.

'Sick' is the perfect word to print on the label.

I guess, I am really sick. Still I refuse to believe.

I guess a gentle caress on the back of my neck, through my hair, is all I want.

Thats all it takes.

It is far, far better than a handjob.

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The Haunting memory

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Beautiful memories haunt real bad

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Ctrl+Alt+Del

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Today is 7 July 2010.

Will this work??

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Potentially insignificant.

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Enough.

Another day of strike. And I wonder where this country is up to.

I always maintained, that politics is a place for people who have no skills, no heart for the country. This is a case for India, and may be many countries surrounding India. May be that is the culture of the subcontinent. The love for oneself. The disregard for others.

It is perfectly fine to love oneself more than anything. I am one of them. I will not save someone risking my life. I will not help someone if I will lose something. But I do believe most of me have a consideration towards others.

Coming back to the politicians. We all love to blame the government, We all love to blame the system. What we forget is, they are very much part of us. If they are not considerate, if they are corrupt, if they eat up a major chunk of the national treasury, it is because majority of India, including you and me, are their kind.

We forget to look at ourselves. We all point fingers. We all forget to live. We forget to ignore.

Yes, you figured out the hole in the other guy's underwear, and he found the one in yours too.

When will we stop doing insignificant things?

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....

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Cheating.betrayal. Back-stab.

Never mind these words.

Its just that people choose the best option for them at the moment.

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Mild Storm in the desert.

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I tried to listen.

I still cannot hear the drum beats.

I should feel them

Before I turn deaf.

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Coloured little bird.

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Wake up in the night

While falling down from sky

Sweat shines on your forehead

You stare at the moonlight

Close down the windows

So you may not see the moonshine

Shut your ears to the whispers

So you can not hear your bird sing

Open up your sleepy eyes

So you may not see the faded face

Hold on to your own hands

So you may not miss the soft fingers

Wipe down your memories

So you may not dream again

The dark fainted blank face

Of a once sweet little thing.

Wipe down your memories

So you may not feel again

The already fainted warmth

Of a four year old wait.

Wipe up this white board

These pictures in black and white

Take your canvas outside

Paint the forthcoming storm.

Let the coloured shiny bird

Spread its wings and stare at you

Let you give it life

Let it fly through the storm.

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Insanity. Plugged into holy spirit. Well. Bubbly spirit.

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No bubbly spirit can lift me like this. I need to pee. I need to band the portion of my body above my neck. I need to have my vision obscured. I need more volume on the speakers. I need to sleep in the floor. Let the floor be full of snakes. Let the snakes move on through my body. I can hear blue oyster cult singing on the back ground. Well, i cant understand the lyrics. I can hear them saying stairway to the stars. Its good to be intoxicated once in a while. Its better to be intoxicated everyday. Best, every hour. I am not flying. But i would like to think I am flying. I like this feeling. I do not have to worry about what I write. I dont care if someone says gross. I love it when I can be intoxicated and still can type without a typo. I can see I am awake. I can feel the smell. I need to pee. I can go on typing as long as my bladder bursts. I can keep on drinking till it is time to sleep. I can sleep till it is time to wake up. I can live till it is time to die. I cannot die till it is time to live. That is what I hate about death. May be what I love about death. I can move my fingers. Good. I dont feel like having sex. better. My mind is a free bird. But birds die. No. My mind is just free. Well. I might die. so it is better i call it a free bird. But birds do pee. So do I. Perfect fit. Free bird. But birds have wings. And they fly. I cant. Whats being a bird who cannot fly. I dont want to be a bird. I just want to fall in love with myself. Even if you call me gay for that. But then every man is gay. They masturbate. That doesnt make them gay. does it. Having sex with oneself.

Well.

enough. I need to pee.

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The Big Purpose.

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The Saint says every piece of grass has a purpose. In the world, In life. I always used to wonder how he would have communicated this simple piece of information in the stone age.

Scientifically, the grass gives food to the deer, the deer to the tiger, this and that. The ocean gives water to the clouds and then the rain. The sun gives light. Yes, everything seems to have a purpose.

But again, what the $%^& was the purpose if the sun is to swallow the whole of earth? What purpose is the life saving drug if the guy died in a road accident a day after his discharge from the hospital?

What purpose is birth, if we are born to die?

What purpose is pride?

What purpose is money when your loved one say that you are hated??

What purpose is a career and countries and a set of rules when Bill gates, Idi Ameen, the beggar on the side of the road, Bin laden, The starving in Somalia, the beautiful girl next door, the child molester, Neil armstrong, and all the people of the world meets the same fate??

And I do wonder what purpose it is, that I am writing this.

Never mind. No one knows. Not even the saint and the Godman, who themselves created that thing called God.

And If I am fried in the pan in Hell for writing this, may be, thats the purpose. :P:P

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Socially un-connected.

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Thats right, I am socially un-connected. I do not have a facebook or orkut or other 'connected' accounts. Yet, I am very much alive, and I do not think I am missing something.

I have started to hate this decade. About 13 years back, i had this unique phonebook. Thin, slim. I had to hand write the numbers as Laser printer or even an inkjet printer was no where to be seen. Well, infact, The color monitor was not in the market. I loved handwriting. I liked writing in paper. I liked hand crafted cards and I used to make them. I loved decorating greeting cards. I liked coloured pens. And pencils. I remembered my friends birthdays. I remembered almost all phone numbers. In fact, even after not calling my old friends for about 10 years, I still remember their old land phone numbers. I remember walking home after school. I remember fun. I remember rain. I remember Inland letter card. I remember how much a post card costs. I remember waiting for the postman.

Things have changed. Yes, I am a techie, and I am supposed to know the latest stuff. In computers. I am supposed to be 'connected' and updated.

And when I clicked on 'delete my orkut account' about a month ago, I was a happy man. Before, I was pathetic. I had to log in to remember who my friends are. I had to log in to know what they are doing. At the moment.

Not that I used to know what the other person is doing at every point of time, about 10 years back. I neednt know. No one bothered to know. Every one had a space. Big space. You neednt tell anyone when i am going to the loo, what song you listened to at 8:30 or the current state of mind every five minutes.

I didnt have to farm in computer.

I am getting back to the old simple life. Earlier, no one used to call to any home after 7 or eight. Now I have students calling me at 11 or 12. Not that I pick up the phone. but whatever happened to private space?

I have now realized I am a person who need a lot of private space. I feel very much relieved socially unconnected. I have removed one element of distress from my daily routine. I have gone back to less computer and less phone. I have started to enjoy feeling the rain. I have started to enjoy remembering the phone numbers. The land phone.

On the downside, I cannot make an excuse that my mobile battery was dead and thats why I couldn't make a particular call because I couldn't browse the phone book. I have to cut down a lot of excuses that I used to find. I will have to lie less and have to be sincere with whatever relationship i have. People may find it difficult to access me, and that could be an excuse for not keeping in touch with me.

But I am feeling better. And I attribute that for my disconnection with social networking.

I believe addiction to alcohol is better than addiction to a mobile phone or addiction to get connected.

Well, for the record, contrary to the popular belief, i aint an alcohol addict either.

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Sleeping finger.

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Whats with my middle finger??

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I seriously dont want to change the world.

All I need is the monsoon to come fast.

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These days.

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>> I have started to hate cricket. I cannot stand any commercial with a cricketer in it.

>> I am known for my short temper, but I have not shouted at anyone more than five times this year.

>> I am really missing a person.

>> I am not lying at all these days. Alright, a little bit here and there is fine.

>> My health seems to be getting better except for the chest congestion.

>> I have lost about 6 Kg... :):)

>> I am not seeing dreams as vivid as I used to see them.

>> I have become more and more lazy.

>> I am real bankrupt. ( ps: alright, i'll mail you my bank account number :P )

>> I am feeling foolish.

>> After drinking almost everyday for more than a month, i realised I am NOT addicted to alcohol.

>> I met an old classmate at the airport. We had a nice chat and I felt good.

>> I am not 'socially networked" anymore, and I think i have started to hate the concept too.

>> I need a long drive. As soon as the monsoon comes in. Alone.

>> I have started showing up signs of cracking up to an extent that even i can feel it.

>> If you ask me at 11 in the morning, I sometimes cannot remember if i had breakfast that day.

>> I refuse to believe that I am 30.

>> I refuse to believe that its better if i have a companion.

>> I am blogging **** as usual.

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