Some Lights are Just Not Meant to Turn Green
Winding roads… traffic lights…they refuse to turn green… it seems forever…the sun slowly unwinds in the distance…every passing minute... gets me closer to that moment I don’t want to be a part of ... but I am still stuck here….for a few more of those passing moments… moments I hope never pass me by…a paradoxical `end to a perfect setting….
Soon these lights shall turn green and it will be time to move on…and I shall once again be left with nothing but a whole load of memories to play over and over again in my head… those shades of green and brown shall haunt me for ever…. I might not live long enough to see them again... I might never feel the same… the trees and hills would have nothing to say…. the mountains around me might even stop breathing...
These winding roads will be too lonely... every subsequent cup of lemon tea will taste too sour…. The snow in the wee crystal globe will be all that would be left of me…
If only time could stand still… just for once just for a few hours…just when it would matter… but alas, soon these lights shall turn green… and it will be time to say goodbye… time to move on….
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
An Angsty Getaway
26th December
There are times when I question my own actions, and this has to be one of the craziest things I have done in the longest time. I am sure most will agree that every man his limits and I guess I reached the epitome of mine a few hours back. Left with no other option but to pack my non existent bags, I found my self on a bus looking out a window and climbing upto this quaint little village bang in the middle of the mighty Himalayas. Snow covered peaks and sub zero temperatures I couldn’t find a perfect setting for this angsty getaway.
It wasn’t 24 hours back when I was dressed in my Sunday best and sipping some decent scotch at an up market get together and now here I am in my torn black jumper my boots ( which in the opinion of some of my friends and my mother resemble trucks, some have even gone to the extent of labeling them as down right ugly, gosh some people need to work on their taste in shoes.) and sitting across a fire which took me more than an hour to put together.
My wee tent, a pack of smokes, some really cheap rum (basically meant for horses, Shane trust me you and Pete would love it too) the thick fog and the mountains to give me company. Not a soul in sight and I couldn’t be happier. Its almost 2 am and the only light in sight is the light from my laptop and the orange embers from the fire which once was and which is still trying to keep me warm but failing miserably.
The setting is pretty surreal and maybe even a wee bit eerie, I cant help but think of all the spooky stories that I have heard over the years, they all come to life in my head. The cheap rum doesn’t really help, headless men with knives and women in white walking past me with a candle all seem like a possibility and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but it just adds to the thrill.
Might be Contd………
26th December
There are times when I question my own actions, and this has to be one of the craziest things I have done in the longest time. I am sure most will agree that every man his limits and I guess I reached the epitome of mine a few hours back. Left with no other option but to pack my non existent bags, I found my self on a bus looking out a window and climbing upto this quaint little village bang in the middle of the mighty Himalayas. Snow covered peaks and sub zero temperatures I couldn’t find a perfect setting for this angsty getaway.
It wasn’t 24 hours back when I was dressed in my Sunday best and sipping some decent scotch at an up market get together and now here I am in my torn black jumper my boots ( which in the opinion of some of my friends and my mother resemble trucks, some have even gone to the extent of labeling them as down right ugly, gosh some people need to work on their taste in shoes.) and sitting across a fire which took me more than an hour to put together.
My wee tent, a pack of smokes, some really cheap rum (basically meant for horses, Shane trust me you and Pete would love it too) the thick fog and the mountains to give me company. Not a soul in sight and I couldn’t be happier. Its almost 2 am and the only light in sight is the light from my laptop and the orange embers from the fire which once was and which is still trying to keep me warm but failing miserably.
The setting is pretty surreal and maybe even a wee bit eerie, I cant help but think of all the spooky stories that I have heard over the years, they all come to life in my head. The cheap rum doesn’t really help, headless men with knives and women in white walking past me with a candle all seem like a possibility and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but it just adds to the thrill.
Might be Contd………
Jesus Stole My Thunder
The setting was just right, the month was December the year 1979 and I am sure it was a wee cold, to add to all that underlying excitement Christmas was just a few hours away. My mother was almost 8 months pregnant and I am sure sick of carrying me around. After spending days confined to her bed she my late father decided to bring in Christmas by watching the mother of all Indian Movies Sholay!!!!!.
Jai Veeru and Gabbar danced around trees and shot some bullets, the movies was just perfect Thakur without his hands ( I always wondered how he ever wiped his arse, I still do) Jai with his tight shirts and killer one liners, Veeru with his ‘I will jump off the water tank’ scene and last but not the least Gabbar with his famous ‘ yeh hath mujhe de de Thakur” ( give me those hands Thakur) dialogue , am sure was all and more than what my mother could handle and that’s when I decided to say Hello !!! to the world. Some 40 odd days premature I decided to jump onto the bandwagon called life. (though I still regret that decision of mine).
But lill did I know that Jesus would steal my thunder. I was, after all born on Christmas, Now, look at it from my perspective its not everyday that one is born, it just one of those once in a life time moments and I am sure ya want it to be perfect just like some other life defining, life changing moments that one seems to encounter every now and then . I mean think of this from a logical perspective, you are down on ya knee and asking the woman of ya dreams to marry you, (now that I am sure most will agree is a life defining moment), but to your utter bewilderment your best friend had, just a few minutes ago asked the same woman to marry him and she, as your luck would have it had said yes. Now that my friend epitomizes or rather illustrates the concept of stealing my thunder and to an extent after I found out who Jesus was ( sometime in my 1st grade) born on the same date as me, I felt cheated and used. May be that’s a crap analogy but then again everything that comes out of my wee head is either crap or way twisted.
So that’s what Lord Jesus did to me, some 2006 years ago, he decided to waltz into this world without ever realizing that many moons later he would be stealing my only thunder. Now now, don’t get me wrong here, its not like I never wanted Jesus around, but couldn’t he have like waited a day, I mean just one day but no, I mean what was the hurry, the Son of God chose just the day I chose to walk out . (I am sure a lot of you out there are going to label me as a heretic and my statements as blasphemous)
The strange thing is most people think its rather cool to share ya birthday with Jesus, but like really, come to think of it, half the people forget its your birthday and are too busy getting sozzled for Christmas and the other half are just too busy with their families celebrating the event of the year to give you a few minutes of their time and expecting them to do so would only be unfair.
So there, with every passing year as the hair on my head turns grey and the inches around my waist increases my angst against my birth date manifolds itself into levels unimaginable. Further still commercialization of the season hasn’t helped either, everywhere you go, you find Santa’s( on a crash diet) from Somalia walking around making an arse of themselves, sales and the festive furry just make all forget that hello!!! It’s my birthday……. Thus I can confidently rest my case and Say JESUS STOLE MY THUNDER!!!!!!
The setting was just right, the month was December the year 1979 and I am sure it was a wee cold, to add to all that underlying excitement Christmas was just a few hours away. My mother was almost 8 months pregnant and I am sure sick of carrying me around. After spending days confined to her bed she my late father decided to bring in Christmas by watching the mother of all Indian Movies Sholay!!!!!.
Jai Veeru and Gabbar danced around trees and shot some bullets, the movies was just perfect Thakur without his hands ( I always wondered how he ever wiped his arse, I still do) Jai with his tight shirts and killer one liners, Veeru with his ‘I will jump off the water tank’ scene and last but not the least Gabbar with his famous ‘ yeh hath mujhe de de Thakur” ( give me those hands Thakur) dialogue , am sure was all and more than what my mother could handle and that’s when I decided to say Hello !!! to the world. Some 40 odd days premature I decided to jump onto the bandwagon called life. (though I still regret that decision of mine).
But lill did I know that Jesus would steal my thunder. I was, after all born on Christmas, Now, look at it from my perspective its not everyday that one is born, it just one of those once in a life time moments and I am sure ya want it to be perfect just like some other life defining, life changing moments that one seems to encounter every now and then . I mean think of this from a logical perspective, you are down on ya knee and asking the woman of ya dreams to marry you, (now that I am sure most will agree is a life defining moment), but to your utter bewilderment your best friend had, just a few minutes ago asked the same woman to marry him and she, as your luck would have it had said yes. Now that my friend epitomizes or rather illustrates the concept of stealing my thunder and to an extent after I found out who Jesus was ( sometime in my 1st grade) born on the same date as me, I felt cheated and used. May be that’s a crap analogy but then again everything that comes out of my wee head is either crap or way twisted.
So that’s what Lord Jesus did to me, some 2006 years ago, he decided to waltz into this world without ever realizing that many moons later he would be stealing my only thunder. Now now, don’t get me wrong here, its not like I never wanted Jesus around, but couldn’t he have like waited a day, I mean just one day but no, I mean what was the hurry, the Son of God chose just the day I chose to walk out . (I am sure a lot of you out there are going to label me as a heretic and my statements as blasphemous)
The strange thing is most people think its rather cool to share ya birthday with Jesus, but like really, come to think of it, half the people forget its your birthday and are too busy getting sozzled for Christmas and the other half are just too busy with their families celebrating the event of the year to give you a few minutes of their time and expecting them to do so would only be unfair.
So there, with every passing year as the hair on my head turns grey and the inches around my waist increases my angst against my birth date manifolds itself into levels unimaginable. Further still commercialization of the season hasn’t helped either, everywhere you go, you find Santa’s( on a crash diet) from Somalia walking around making an arse of themselves, sales and the festive furry just make all forget that hello!!! It’s my birthday……. Thus I can confidently rest my case and Say JESUS STOLE MY THUNDER!!!!!!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Rediscovering my Angst
It takes a lot to rub off the rust that erodes the sensibility of this once wasted now almost redefined existence of mine. It’s taken a long time actually 32 days of this self imposed hiatus to be able to pen down my thoughts once again.
Glasgow seems like a distant dream or maybe even a blatantly cold nightmare and frankly the last month in this self imposed exile I haven’t missed it even a wee bit. The hours spent trying to heal those wounds which I once thought would never heal have been the breath of fresh air I have longed and hoped for.
It’s just me now, a cup of coffee, a pack of untouched smokes, a light, the common cold, my long disheveled hair, 3 day old stubble and I am all set to let the words flow. But this is where the writers block creeps in. Too many thoughts and way too many ideas rush through this wee head of mine. Let me see, what or who should I write about? The cops who waited patiently for me at the airport on my arrival or should I write about the window I looked out of in that quaint eatery high in the Himalayas or maybe even that face that never was?
But I’d rather talk and wrte about my new found angst towards the news channels which have in the name of free speech and democracy blatantly raped the ethos of News programming. These so called quasi upholders of our democracy seem to have taken over the role of not only the executive but also the judiciary. Where news anchors are the new self proclaimed judges of a morally estranged society, which thrives on the blood of many hapless innocents, where these very rapists want to execute every innocent for crimes they have allegedly committed, where they end up raping a nation under the veil of democracy. Who ever gives them the right to pronounce someone guilty of a crime which he might or might not have committed? If that being the case why have judges, lawyers and courts in the first place. Let’s shut them all down and let these stupid news channels decide and dictate the fate of the few who have inspired the fancy of these fascist bastards. I wish it ended there, but no, if they are not busy convicting someone then they dig out news which I am sure is the only source of entertainment for the many who seem to have fallen into this erstwhile trap laid out by these very rapists and fascists, where they spend a whole day broadcasting a fat baby and what he eats, or how about the holy communion of two dogs, yes you read that right, two fuckin dogs that sure as hell is breaking news, especially when they call in an animal activist who even argues her case of defending the 50 lakh that was spent on the above mentioned communion on the grounds of compassion, all while people and farmers in Maharashtra are starving and busy killing them selves Like some one please shoot that bitch.. Is that news, someone pleases tell me is that freaking news?
Like really… I could have changed channels flipped to something more sensible, but they all sang a song which was worse than the other. It was choosing between the lesser evil. News is no longer something we all viewed to find out things worth finding out about.
I of all don’t want to flip to a news channel which is interviewing this man who can allegedly mimic crows. For Petes' sake now just coz all of us can mimic dogs and cats does that entail that we will be featured on news channels?
Breaking News. A man from Dehradun can bark.
But the story that took the cake was the interview of this deranged bitch who claimed she could transform her self into a snake every morning. Someone please tell those news channels that the woman was obviously either deranged or smoking some shit. But no, apparently it was important enough to be telecasted as breaking news. Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Though for now, I guess I have vented enough and should get back to some more constructive musing ….
It takes a lot to rub off the rust that erodes the sensibility of this once wasted now almost redefined existence of mine. It’s taken a long time actually 32 days of this self imposed hiatus to be able to pen down my thoughts once again.
Glasgow seems like a distant dream or maybe even a blatantly cold nightmare and frankly the last month in this self imposed exile I haven’t missed it even a wee bit. The hours spent trying to heal those wounds which I once thought would never heal have been the breath of fresh air I have longed and hoped for.
It’s just me now, a cup of coffee, a pack of untouched smokes, a light, the common cold, my long disheveled hair, 3 day old stubble and I am all set to let the words flow. But this is where the writers block creeps in. Too many thoughts and way too many ideas rush through this wee head of mine. Let me see, what or who should I write about? The cops who waited patiently for me at the airport on my arrival or should I write about the window I looked out of in that quaint eatery high in the Himalayas or maybe even that face that never was?
But I’d rather talk and wrte about my new found angst towards the news channels which have in the name of free speech and democracy blatantly raped the ethos of News programming. These so called quasi upholders of our democracy seem to have taken over the role of not only the executive but also the judiciary. Where news anchors are the new self proclaimed judges of a morally estranged society, which thrives on the blood of many hapless innocents, where these very rapists want to execute every innocent for crimes they have allegedly committed, where they end up raping a nation under the veil of democracy. Who ever gives them the right to pronounce someone guilty of a crime which he might or might not have committed? If that being the case why have judges, lawyers and courts in the first place. Let’s shut them all down and let these stupid news channels decide and dictate the fate of the few who have inspired the fancy of these fascist bastards. I wish it ended there, but no, if they are not busy convicting someone then they dig out news which I am sure is the only source of entertainment for the many who seem to have fallen into this erstwhile trap laid out by these very rapists and fascists, where they spend a whole day broadcasting a fat baby and what he eats, or how about the holy communion of two dogs, yes you read that right, two fuckin dogs that sure as hell is breaking news, especially when they call in an animal activist who even argues her case of defending the 50 lakh that was spent on the above mentioned communion on the grounds of compassion, all while people and farmers in Maharashtra are starving and busy killing them selves Like some one please shoot that bitch.. Is that news, someone pleases tell me is that freaking news?
Like really… I could have changed channels flipped to something more sensible, but they all sang a song which was worse than the other. It was choosing between the lesser evil. News is no longer something we all viewed to find out things worth finding out about.
I of all don’t want to flip to a news channel which is interviewing this man who can allegedly mimic crows. For Petes' sake now just coz all of us can mimic dogs and cats does that entail that we will be featured on news channels?
Breaking News. A man from Dehradun can bark.
But the story that took the cake was the interview of this deranged bitch who claimed she could transform her self into a snake every morning. Someone please tell those news channels that the woman was obviously either deranged or smoking some shit. But no, apparently it was important enough to be telecasted as breaking news. Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Though for now, I guess I have vented enough and should get back to some more constructive musing ….
Thaw Time
21st November 2006 (date of the original post)
* A month back (not like I remember much) I found my self typing out some random jazz under the influence of corpus amounts of alcohol, the result of which was a post riddled with grammatical errors and typos from hell. In an effort to solve the mystery of the missing post, I give you all a better version of the same. My only dilemma was post the above mentioned corrections the original drunken affect was lost in the saneness of my present existence
I haven’t slept in 32 hours (you can’t really call the power nap I took some 20 odd hours back as a misconstrued notion of a normal mans’ sleep) so once again I am sleep deprived, a wee drunk and terribly hangover.
Well that’s me…. All the impending stress of excess baggage and psychotic, hypochondriac, kleptomaniac demented flat mates finally seems to have taken a back seat. For the record I was 19 kilos over the permitted baggage allowance but then again I managed to convince them to let me take 15 of those precious kilos without paying a single penny (not like I had any). As far as the remaining 4 kilos were concerned... oh well I gave it to the ground staff who were reluctant to graciously accept some of my unlaundered underwear, socks and loads of shit I wouldn’t even wanna mention here.
And those flat mates... Oh Lord !!!!!… I hope some one chops them to lill bits and feeds them to dogs at the gates of hell. Any more statements made by me here, and if that bitch reads this she might just break her head and call the cops and get me arrested for abetment of causing grievous hurt. Come to think of it… I don’t care a flying fuck any more, bitches and dogs like them should just be shot in their greedy non existent balls
So there goes… I have vented enough… I am finally going home… 14 months in this deep freeze already feels like a distant dream and I am all too glad at least for now, it just might be a different story when I land in India tomorrow and melt., in that case my will shall be available online for those who might think they are lucky enough to claim anything that’s worth claiming for.
Flying over Istanbul and I have another six hours before I land in Dubai and then it’s a long wait before I get onto that all important flight to Delhi
Mixed feelings fog my mind right now… I am not really sure what to expect, to start with I am not used to having people around no more, it might just be a wee strange for me to be surrounded by overwhelming number of people. It sure as hell will be strange sleeping at night or at least pretending to sleep with all the chaos around me. Further still my biggest fear is the heat and sun, for the record I even googled for the sun over a month back, things have been bleak enough for me to restore to such extreme measures…. I guess I should get back to my Irish coffee.
More from the next leg my journey
Over Tehran
(Very very drunk)- giving Good ol’ Pete a run for his money
I hope Shane is reading this... dude I am over ya favorite country in the whole wide world… and I so wish I could just drop down to meet that hero of a man they call their President.
2 hours away from Glasgow ( Dubai… was just too hammered to remember where I was headed) and I am hammered like no body’s business, 7whiskeys 4 Jack Daniels and 5 baileys what else could ya expect and I am still not done/ I got a long way to go before I can call it quits… the lack of sleep coupled with all this alcohol in the system is doing wonders and I love the feeling. For the record the cabin temperature as been increased and I can already feel the heat scorching my back. Delhi is going to be fun.
21st November 2006 (date of the original post)
* A month back (not like I remember much) I found my self typing out some random jazz under the influence of corpus amounts of alcohol, the result of which was a post riddled with grammatical errors and typos from hell. In an effort to solve the mystery of the missing post, I give you all a better version of the same. My only dilemma was post the above mentioned corrections the original drunken affect was lost in the saneness of my present existence
I haven’t slept in 32 hours (you can’t really call the power nap I took some 20 odd hours back as a misconstrued notion of a normal mans’ sleep) so once again I am sleep deprived, a wee drunk and terribly hangover.
Well that’s me…. All the impending stress of excess baggage and psychotic, hypochondriac, kleptomaniac demented flat mates finally seems to have taken a back seat. For the record I was 19 kilos over the permitted baggage allowance but then again I managed to convince them to let me take 15 of those precious kilos without paying a single penny (not like I had any). As far as the remaining 4 kilos were concerned... oh well I gave it to the ground staff who were reluctant to graciously accept some of my unlaundered underwear, socks and loads of shit I wouldn’t even wanna mention here.
And those flat mates... Oh Lord !!!!!… I hope some one chops them to lill bits and feeds them to dogs at the gates of hell. Any more statements made by me here, and if that bitch reads this she might just break her head and call the cops and get me arrested for abetment of causing grievous hurt. Come to think of it… I don’t care a flying fuck any more, bitches and dogs like them should just be shot in their greedy non existent balls
So there goes… I have vented enough… I am finally going home… 14 months in this deep freeze already feels like a distant dream and I am all too glad at least for now, it just might be a different story when I land in India tomorrow and melt., in that case my will shall be available online for those who might think they are lucky enough to claim anything that’s worth claiming for.
Flying over Istanbul and I have another six hours before I land in Dubai and then it’s a long wait before I get onto that all important flight to Delhi
Mixed feelings fog my mind right now… I am not really sure what to expect, to start with I am not used to having people around no more, it might just be a wee strange for me to be surrounded by overwhelming number of people. It sure as hell will be strange sleeping at night or at least pretending to sleep with all the chaos around me. Further still my biggest fear is the heat and sun, for the record I even googled for the sun over a month back, things have been bleak enough for me to restore to such extreme measures…. I guess I should get back to my Irish coffee.
More from the next leg my journey
Over Tehran
(Very very drunk)- giving Good ol’ Pete a run for his money
I hope Shane is reading this... dude I am over ya favorite country in the whole wide world… and I so wish I could just drop down to meet that hero of a man they call their President.
2 hours away from Glasgow ( Dubai… was just too hammered to remember where I was headed) and I am hammered like no body’s business, 7whiskeys 4 Jack Daniels and 5 baileys what else could ya expect and I am still not done/ I got a long way to go before I can call it quits… the lack of sleep coupled with all this alcohol in the system is doing wonders and I love the feeling. For the record the cabin temperature as been increased and I can already feel the heat scorching my back. Delhi is going to be fun.
Friday, December 22, 2006
The Phoenix Shall Rise…
..Away... lost...... and rediscovering my self.... digging deep within to pull out the Mehak that once was.... a month back home and I feel more alive than I have been in years…There is so much to write... so much more to feel… so much more to share…. All of which shall ensue slowly.I apologize for being away… for almost disappearing of the face of this planet… but now I am back... And my words once again shall flow like a river thirsty to find its home...
..Away... lost...... and rediscovering my self.... digging deep within to pull out the Mehak that once was.... a month back home and I feel more alive than I have been in years…There is so much to write... so much more to feel… so much more to share…. All of which shall ensue slowly.I apologize for being away… for almost disappearing of the face of this planet… but now I am back... And my words once again shall flow like a river thirsty to find its home...
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