Midnight Musing...
Life is finally all about the moments, but there's always the larger plot to consider... a lot more goes into making those moments. In life, the moments are the plot.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Moments to Cherish...
Away from the reality they call my life I find peace in the abyss, those corners I run away from, the darkness I am too scared to call mine. I stand alone like a whole hoard of people, but I find peace in the little things I can call mine.
The fish donning my desk, cannibalistic but beautiful the wee black stripes that swim in the watery prison, the music that plays in my ears, Nick Drake, a talent gone waste, someone who died young but left his mark, that voice deep and touching.
I can only think about that evening at Shane’s place when I had given up all hope of getting through with the mother of all essays a year and a bit more back…. that’s when Shane and Nick drake gave me shelter and hope… a hope that made me see the sun rise that Easter morning….the clouds that threaten to wash away the heat every evening, the long drive back home, surreal, my existence a caldron of emotions and sunsets… of orange skies…
Moments gone by, leaving behind a mark… a drunk Phillipe calling me in the middle of the night howling over his lost belt while he hung perilously from Kelvin’s statue…. the night Wolfgang Ruckert stopped the subway coz all of us had to get back home to get more wasted… the time when Angela helped me fly back home to discover the truth… or the time when Christine sat and gave me hope… or the time when Kate encouraged me to go and fetch my dreams….. these are memories all mine.. all precious… I cherish these moments and more when Atif my slave chopped all those onions and looked the other way when I stole his smokes…or when zareen shared dinner with me from a million miles away when I sat alone in that lill prison I built for my self... walls to high to scale…
I sit here.. an empty bottle of whiskey shares these moments with me… Nick Drake still sings …. Just the way he will for all times to come… I am not alone, I have a million thoughts to share this moment with me , but none better than those who have spent my precious moments with me…
Away from the reality they call my life I find peace in the abyss, those corners I run away from, the darkness I am too scared to call mine. I stand alone like a whole hoard of people, but I find peace in the little things I can call mine.
The fish donning my desk, cannibalistic but beautiful the wee black stripes that swim in the watery prison, the music that plays in my ears, Nick Drake, a talent gone waste, someone who died young but left his mark, that voice deep and touching.
I can only think about that evening at Shane’s place when I had given up all hope of getting through with the mother of all essays a year and a bit more back…. that’s when Shane and Nick drake gave me shelter and hope… a hope that made me see the sun rise that Easter morning….the clouds that threaten to wash away the heat every evening, the long drive back home, surreal, my existence a caldron of emotions and sunsets… of orange skies…
Moments gone by, leaving behind a mark… a drunk Phillipe calling me in the middle of the night howling over his lost belt while he hung perilously from Kelvin’s statue…. the night Wolfgang Ruckert stopped the subway coz all of us had to get back home to get more wasted… the time when Angela helped me fly back home to discover the truth… or the time when Christine sat and gave me hope… or the time when Kate encouraged me to go and fetch my dreams….. these are memories all mine.. all precious… I cherish these moments and more when Atif my slave chopped all those onions and looked the other way when I stole his smokes…or when zareen shared dinner with me from a million miles away when I sat alone in that lill prison I built for my self... walls to high to scale…
I sit here.. an empty bottle of whiskey shares these moments with me… Nick Drake still sings …. Just the way he will for all times to come… I am not alone, I have a million thoughts to share this moment with me , but none better than those who have spent my precious moments with me…
Friday, August 31, 2007
Everything random…
The black gold sits at my desk. Liquid and bitter in its conception, the whole purpose to appease my disheveled soul. Comprehension of the task at hand rather skewed, chaos as usual ensues around, books and files don my surroundings. The pending work file seems an endless task
My mind is on a trip a trip down memory lane, drowning in emotions strong and precious, moments of joy and a billion good byes, faces I will never see again, , mails I shall never receive again, places I will never visit again, they all flood my thoughts, friends lost and found, images captured forever.
Everything else takes a back seat, the work the files the chaos, its me and my mind, reading mails sent over the years, pictures in my mind and those on my hard drive. My fish give me company, chasing each other in their wee watery prison donning my desk. The wee shell and brilliant shades of gold and blue…
The black gold sits at my desk. Liquid and bitter in its conception, the whole purpose to appease my disheveled soul. Comprehension of the task at hand rather skewed, chaos as usual ensues around, books and files don my surroundings. The pending work file seems an endless task
My mind is on a trip a trip down memory lane, drowning in emotions strong and precious, moments of joy and a billion good byes, faces I will never see again, , mails I shall never receive again, places I will never visit again, they all flood my thoughts, friends lost and found, images captured forever.
Everything else takes a back seat, the work the files the chaos, its me and my mind, reading mails sent over the years, pictures in my mind and those on my hard drive. My fish give me company, chasing each other in their wee watery prison donning my desk. The wee shell and brilliant shades of gold and blue…
Monday, August 27, 2007
A New beginning to an erstwhile end...
Woke up this morning…. It was yet another Monday morning…Yeah!! The most dreadful part of the week, however I felt different, I for a change was not a victim of the usual ‘Monday Morning Blues’…the battle within had eased.. a sense of utopian satisfaction engulfed my soul…. The clouds … the quasi-cool breeze seemed to have washed away all the existential angst.
For once the early morning rush hour traffic didn’t seem to bother me… I even wore a crisp white shirt and my cleanest pair of Levis’ (I had hoped, I wouldn’t have to go to court )
The day rolled by, I was asked to attend a matter at the Supreme Court, so had to get into my court apparel ( a freaking white starched shirt, black trousers, black jacket and a black gown and all of it in the freaking humidity)… minutes passed me by…a drop in an ocean of black.. I watched and lived it all…
Back in office I cleaned my desk, the worn torn Iraqi landscape for once resembled uptown Manhattan. Shocked faces around caught my eye…I was trying hard to be positive…a sole survivor in a genocidal attack was a tough ask… Colleagues around me fell like nine pins… one by one…slow yet steady…every meeting with the boss, the admin head and the quasi boss for them was like surviving a Nazi gas chamber … distraught faces.. frustration writ large on their faces… I admist all that chaos held my head high.. I was walking ‘the’ line.. I was determined not to give in … my mind thought of ways of avoiding another battle with the bitch of an admin head..( lord do we hate her)…
The sun set over Delhi, the birds flew back to their wee nests… however we were still stuck at work.. I sat at my desk sipping on some cold and bitter coffee and staring into space. The day’s newspapers waited patiently …. Bits of paper with nothing but gore blood and heart wrenching tales awaited me… pictures of bodies from the recent terrorist attack… the story of the woman who died of starvation in Delhi… and the governments new devices to screw the middle class over… they were all there… black and red ink on white… stories… all for me to take in and document…
Darkness brought with it an empty feeling, one by one the survivors from the gas chambers streamed out of work… glad to live and survive another day… I however continued to sit at my desk.. taking it all in… I could have thrown another tantrum, there were a million reasons to the do the same, but I had resigned to my fate.. I was content to be swimming in shyte… I was hungry.. I was broke… but it didn’t matter.. coz for once I wasn’t the man I used to be. Maybe I had lost.. maybe I wont fight another battle.. maybe I wont break pens and throw files.. or maybe even bang desks and threaten to kill the admin bitch for not clearing my cheques, maybe just maybe I wont even stand up against the tyranny or throw a fit against a new law at work…
The drive back home was long… unwinding roads.. and chaotic traffic… I was kept company by some random doctor over the radio, who couldn’t stop ranting about anxiety disorders.. strangely I could relate to it..( I was losing it) I showed at least 7 out of the 10 symptoms the Doctor had ranted about…
In retrospect however… I wonder if this newfound attitude was any good….the Indian cricket team yet again grabbed defeat from the jaws of victory… and once again I felt like shyte… complete shyte.. I regretted coming home to watch a bunch of 11 wankers get their sorry arses kicked.. wasn’t the shameful exit from the World Cup enough for a lifetime.. a country of over 1 billion people and we cant find 11 decent wankers to win a game of cricket…
So here I am… sitting in my living room.. sprawled like a dead rat… still dressed in the once white shirt now crumpled and dirty and my ill fitting black trousers… nothing has changed… I feel exactly the same.. except more resigned to this fate.. this life.. this slavery…
Woke up this morning…. It was yet another Monday morning…Yeah!! The most dreadful part of the week, however I felt different, I for a change was not a victim of the usual ‘Monday Morning Blues’…the battle within had eased.. a sense of utopian satisfaction engulfed my soul…. The clouds … the quasi-cool breeze seemed to have washed away all the existential angst.
For once the early morning rush hour traffic didn’t seem to bother me… I even wore a crisp white shirt and my cleanest pair of Levis’ (I had hoped, I wouldn’t have to go to court )
The day rolled by, I was asked to attend a matter at the Supreme Court, so had to get into my court apparel ( a freaking white starched shirt, black trousers, black jacket and a black gown and all of it in the freaking humidity)… minutes passed me by…a drop in an ocean of black.. I watched and lived it all…
Back in office I cleaned my desk, the worn torn Iraqi landscape for once resembled uptown Manhattan. Shocked faces around caught my eye…I was trying hard to be positive…a sole survivor in a genocidal attack was a tough ask… Colleagues around me fell like nine pins… one by one…slow yet steady…every meeting with the boss, the admin head and the quasi boss for them was like surviving a Nazi gas chamber … distraught faces.. frustration writ large on their faces… I admist all that chaos held my head high.. I was walking ‘the’ line.. I was determined not to give in … my mind thought of ways of avoiding another battle with the bitch of an admin head..( lord do we hate her)…
The sun set over Delhi, the birds flew back to their wee nests… however we were still stuck at work.. I sat at my desk sipping on some cold and bitter coffee and staring into space. The day’s newspapers waited patiently …. Bits of paper with nothing but gore blood and heart wrenching tales awaited me… pictures of bodies from the recent terrorist attack… the story of the woman who died of starvation in Delhi… and the governments new devices to screw the middle class over… they were all there… black and red ink on white… stories… all for me to take in and document…
Darkness brought with it an empty feeling, one by one the survivors from the gas chambers streamed out of work… glad to live and survive another day… I however continued to sit at my desk.. taking it all in… I could have thrown another tantrum, there were a million reasons to the do the same, but I had resigned to my fate.. I was content to be swimming in shyte… I was hungry.. I was broke… but it didn’t matter.. coz for once I wasn’t the man I used to be. Maybe I had lost.. maybe I wont fight another battle.. maybe I wont break pens and throw files.. or maybe even bang desks and threaten to kill the admin bitch for not clearing my cheques, maybe just maybe I wont even stand up against the tyranny or throw a fit against a new law at work…
The drive back home was long… unwinding roads.. and chaotic traffic… I was kept company by some random doctor over the radio, who couldn’t stop ranting about anxiety disorders.. strangely I could relate to it..( I was losing it) I showed at least 7 out of the 10 symptoms the Doctor had ranted about…
In retrospect however… I wonder if this newfound attitude was any good….the Indian cricket team yet again grabbed defeat from the jaws of victory… and once again I felt like shyte… complete shyte.. I regretted coming home to watch a bunch of 11 wankers get their sorry arses kicked.. wasn’t the shameful exit from the World Cup enough for a lifetime.. a country of over 1 billion people and we cant find 11 decent wankers to win a game of cricket…
So here I am… sitting in my living room.. sprawled like a dead rat… still dressed in the once white shirt now crumpled and dirty and my ill fitting black trousers… nothing has changed… I feel exactly the same.. except more resigned to this fate.. this life.. this slavery…
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Freedom
Independence day… oh well for most of us its nothing but a break from our mundane lives, a public holiday, a day to unwind, a day when you don’t have to fight the traffic or face the shyte of life, but lets just stop here for a minute. Its independence day a day we ought to sit back and reflect on the struggles and the blood lost, a day when we celebrate the victory of human spirit a day when we ought to realize that a lot has been achieved or maybe not? None of us will ever fully know the extent of the things there are to know and love about this great country.
But because our star of freedom has shone - more or less intact, at least in political terms - for 60 years, - today is the day to stop, pause and consider that millions of us are still not free. We are moved around by dams, roads and mines. Our villages are burned in hatred-filled riots. Our husbands, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, daughters, mothers still die of diseases all too easily preventable, we still do not know what it is to read and write, we do not know whether the peace of our forest or field or town will remain undisturbed from one year to the next. We still sell our bodies to buy our bread and we still bleed at the hands of our fellow countrymen. We still live in shacks by the roadside. We are hundreds of years away from 15th August, 1947. And 60 years ahead of it.
Independence day… oh well for most of us its nothing but a break from our mundane lives, a public holiday, a day to unwind, a day when you don’t have to fight the traffic or face the shyte of life, but lets just stop here for a minute. Its independence day a day we ought to sit back and reflect on the struggles and the blood lost, a day when we celebrate the victory of human spirit a day when we ought to realize that a lot has been achieved or maybe not? None of us will ever fully know the extent of the things there are to know and love about this great country.
But because our star of freedom has shone - more or less intact, at least in political terms - for 60 years, - today is the day to stop, pause and consider that millions of us are still not free. We are moved around by dams, roads and mines. Our villages are burned in hatred-filled riots. Our husbands, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, daughters, mothers still die of diseases all too easily preventable, we still do not know what it is to read and write, we do not know whether the peace of our forest or field or town will remain undisturbed from one year to the next. We still sell our bodies to buy our bread and we still bleed at the hands of our fellow countrymen. We still live in shacks by the roadside. We are hundreds of years away from 15th August, 1947. And 60 years ahead of it.
Orange skies
Days roll on… spells of rain wash away the heat… shades of amber at dusk.
Surreal in its conception and construction…. I watch the rays of sun paint the cloud streaked skies every evening.. the traffic lights and the chaos all around takes a back seat as I watch those colors unveil magic every evening. Peaceful and beautiful they light my life… memories from the past flood my thoughts.. a child chasing down the many dragon flies…. Wee shorts and old shoes the smell of the fresh grass and those orange skies… not a worry in the world… just the boy and his kingdom painted orange every monsoon. I am that child again.. every evening I relive the past.
Days roll on… spells of rain wash away the heat… shades of amber at dusk.
Surreal in its conception and construction…. I watch the rays of sun paint the cloud streaked skies every evening.. the traffic lights and the chaos all around takes a back seat as I watch those colors unveil magic every evening. Peaceful and beautiful they light my life… memories from the past flood my thoughts.. a child chasing down the many dragon flies…. Wee shorts and old shoes the smell of the fresh grass and those orange skies… not a worry in the world… just the boy and his kingdom painted orange every monsoon. I am that child again.. every evening I relive the past.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Lost lights shine through the glass doors of my perception, blinding whatever is left of this existence. Ghosts from the past haunt the present, free they float through this abyss, sucking the life I once called mine. No matter how far I run, or where I hide they find me, or maybe it’s the other way round… twisted like a mind of a psychopath they weave themselves in circles, I find my self entwined in.
I walk, slow, searching for peace, peace that’s utopian in its own construction. The rain, the gale, they all bring back memories I once buried. I am scared, I am lost, I am just…..
I walk, slow, searching for peace, peace that’s utopian in its own construction. The rain, the gale, they all bring back memories I once buried. I am scared, I am lost, I am just…..
Monday, June 18, 2007
The End…Of this Summer…?
The last few months…where did they go…I only wish I knew…somewhere in the middle of all that paper work (and my back office... can vouch for the same)[1] and the heat… I lost the last few months getting angsty over the heat and the terrible air conditioning at work…
A complete bankruptcy of ideas… a writers block like never before... lost in my own bubble, all I worried about was the heat... and nothing else mattered… every breathing minute was spent coming up with ideas to beat the heat…. I lost sleep... my peace of mind and everything there was to lose... Heat... summer… were the bane of my self perpetuated wasted quasi surreal existence…
I was a walking talking weather channel… you could question me about the temperature and the answers would even include the humidity, the direction and speed of the wind.
The rest of my hours were spent staring at the blue skies… trying to spot a cloud or even a speck of it… it was frankly a shyte state of affairs… Images of me dressed as a character from Lagaan[2]…. Running on the streets of Delhi serenading the rain and the clouds were a constant source of my non existent inspiration.
Dressed in a black jacket and gown[3] while I bathed my self in the pools of sweat all I thought of were those precious drops of rain … I even made enemies... the Admin head at work… who couldn’t make sure that the air conditioning was up to the mark was duly reported to the Big Boss, who well to put it mildly… kicked her sorry behind to the ebbs of the Solar System.
And then…. It ended…the dusty smog that had enveloped Delhi while I was burning in Gujarat transpired itself into a life saving blanket of grey. The skies changed color all while I sat there smoking my third cigarette… as lightning tore the sky and clouds clapped in joy, Delhi came to life… wee drops… like the excelsior of life fell all around… a battle like never before… the wee drops.. millions of them up against the burning heat…slow but steady... the heat abated… one and all poured onto the roads…not a worry in the world…just joy pure in its conception, like a torrent it washed away the heat and with it the sorrows… I just stood there a demented smile streaked across my face… a life worth living just for those few moments… all while that rain fell around me….
[1] For those who are not aware of my working environment, the back office entails the desk right behind mine... it’s a pile of papers and files… epitomizing the concept of order in chaos. It’s a work of art, no one but me can find a file there, people have tried and failed… and now it runs a wee warning “ Touch at Your own Peril”
[2] An Indian movie of great repute. Its where a bunch of Indians kick the English soldiers arses in a game of cricket, and while doing so pray for rain... ya I know it sounds all complicated. But it aint all that... or maybe it is
[3] Right I aint all that mad to wear that voluntarily, some of the evils of being a lawyer at the Supreme Court. Some one please tell the Judiciary that the English have left the country ….
The last few months…where did they go…I only wish I knew…somewhere in the middle of all that paper work (and my back office... can vouch for the same)[1] and the heat… I lost the last few months getting angsty over the heat and the terrible air conditioning at work…
A complete bankruptcy of ideas… a writers block like never before... lost in my own bubble, all I worried about was the heat... and nothing else mattered… every breathing minute was spent coming up with ideas to beat the heat…. I lost sleep... my peace of mind and everything there was to lose... Heat... summer… were the bane of my self perpetuated wasted quasi surreal existence…
I was a walking talking weather channel… you could question me about the temperature and the answers would even include the humidity, the direction and speed of the wind.
The rest of my hours were spent staring at the blue skies… trying to spot a cloud or even a speck of it… it was frankly a shyte state of affairs… Images of me dressed as a character from Lagaan[2]…. Running on the streets of Delhi serenading the rain and the clouds were a constant source of my non existent inspiration.
Dressed in a black jacket and gown[3] while I bathed my self in the pools of sweat all I thought of were those precious drops of rain … I even made enemies... the Admin head at work… who couldn’t make sure that the air conditioning was up to the mark was duly reported to the Big Boss, who well to put it mildly… kicked her sorry behind to the ebbs of the Solar System.
And then…. It ended…the dusty smog that had enveloped Delhi while I was burning in Gujarat transpired itself into a life saving blanket of grey. The skies changed color all while I sat there smoking my third cigarette… as lightning tore the sky and clouds clapped in joy, Delhi came to life… wee drops… like the excelsior of life fell all around… a battle like never before… the wee drops.. millions of them up against the burning heat…slow but steady... the heat abated… one and all poured onto the roads…not a worry in the world…just joy pure in its conception, like a torrent it washed away the heat and with it the sorrows… I just stood there a demented smile streaked across my face… a life worth living just for those few moments… all while that rain fell around me….
[1] For those who are not aware of my working environment, the back office entails the desk right behind mine... it’s a pile of papers and files… epitomizing the concept of order in chaos. It’s a work of art, no one but me can find a file there, people have tried and failed… and now it runs a wee warning “ Touch at Your own Peril”
[2] An Indian movie of great repute. Its where a bunch of Indians kick the English soldiers arses in a game of cricket, and while doing so pray for rain... ya I know it sounds all complicated. But it aint all that... or maybe it is
[3] Right I aint all that mad to wear that voluntarily, some of the evils of being a lawyer at the Supreme Court. Some one please tell the Judiciary that the English have left the country ….
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Mekky the wanderer...
I often sit and gaze into the unknown, music aides the process, my mind wanders, far and wide, through the glass doors and into beyond... touching both the seen and the unseen… the cool breeze.. the freedom to be... the life I perceive…
It’s just me, often lost... touching the boundaries of the unknown. Scarlet pines and blue skies… star studded nights... the northern lights… they all dance to my thoughts... I ride these clouds… glide into this beautiful abyss, longing not to come back to this reality… longing to be lost forever.
Like a fire that keeps me warm on a cold winter night… or the fresh sea breeze that wipes away the heat… these thoughts keep me going…these clouds… I want to ride them forever..
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Saturday Afternoon Blues- Part 2- The Deceptive Art Of Pretence
Its an art... the art of pretence… you stare at the blank word document... your desk resembles an Iraqi worn torn landscape... papers… files… post it’s and empty coffee cups dawn the horizon of this once neat work station.
Everything including the life of some of my clients is put on the back burner; my colleagues look as sleepy as me. One of them pours over inane blogs including mine. The other sits and plays spider solitaire… a complete brainless entertainment. The quasi boss drools over her crossword whole the admin staff rejoices in its lill victory of holding us back here for the extra three hours.
I aint working, but I have to pretend... pretend to look all busy… I even passed out over a pink marker, woke up with a huge pink stain on my pristine khadi kurta. Everything around me has been reduced to a non existent blurrr…. My bed…is the only constant thought through my head…I can close my eyes and picture my lazy arse sprawled all over it... lost in a dream world, which has nothing but juicy steaks… loads of alcohol and a cottage high in the mountains, with a fire lit and some pearl jam echoing through the surrounding valleys.
I still have to finalize my daily work reports and I really don’t know how I am going to do that... I have looked busy, without even being remotely close to it and now I have to account for it all
Maybe this is how my work done report shall look
Work Done Report 7th April
1-Reversed into a pole… damaged my car and almost got killed by an old lady
2-Checked my mail for 3 hours
3-Drafted 3 issues and viewed some evidence in fast forward for 3 hours
4-Slept over a pink marker
5-smoked 10 cigs
6-drank 6 cups of coffee and one pack of uber bad juice
7-Played with my table lamp for 12 mins
8-Scratched my stubble 28 times
9-Shouted I want to go home 47 times
10-Ate lunch twice
11-read my own blog
12-Made colleagues read my blog
Like really……. This Saturday aint ending and this pretence aint helping… coz I still want to go homeeee
Its an art... the art of pretence… you stare at the blank word document... your desk resembles an Iraqi worn torn landscape... papers… files… post it’s and empty coffee cups dawn the horizon of this once neat work station.
Everything including the life of some of my clients is put on the back burner; my colleagues look as sleepy as me. One of them pours over inane blogs including mine. The other sits and plays spider solitaire… a complete brainless entertainment. The quasi boss drools over her crossword whole the admin staff rejoices in its lill victory of holding us back here for the extra three hours.
I aint working, but I have to pretend... pretend to look all busy… I even passed out over a pink marker, woke up with a huge pink stain on my pristine khadi kurta. Everything around me has been reduced to a non existent blurrr…. My bed…is the only constant thought through my head…I can close my eyes and picture my lazy arse sprawled all over it... lost in a dream world, which has nothing but juicy steaks… loads of alcohol and a cottage high in the mountains, with a fire lit and some pearl jam echoing through the surrounding valleys.
I still have to finalize my daily work reports and I really don’t know how I am going to do that... I have looked busy, without even being remotely close to it and now I have to account for it all
Maybe this is how my work done report shall look
Work Done Report 7th April
1-Reversed into a pole… damaged my car and almost got killed by an old lady
2-Checked my mail for 3 hours
3-Drafted 3 issues and viewed some evidence in fast forward for 3 hours
4-Slept over a pink marker
5-smoked 10 cigs
6-drank 6 cups of coffee and one pack of uber bad juice
7-Played with my table lamp for 12 mins
8-Scratched my stubble 28 times
9-Shouted I want to go home 47 times
10-Ate lunch twice
11-read my own blog
12-Made colleagues read my blog
Like really……. This Saturday aint ending and this pretence aint helping… coz I still want to go homeeee
Saturday Afternoon Blues….
The taste of the bitter coffee consumed less than hour ago, keeps me awake... the eyes like always beg to be shut. It’s hot…. the air conditioning aint helping… Delhi… sigh it’s a lazy place to be in this afternoon... and for crying out loud this hasn’t been the best day of my life. It could have been far worse ( like i could have been kidnapped by ugly aliens) and I am just glad it aint.
Woke up with a hang over from hell… a Friday of debauchery didn’t help my cause… a sick flat mate just added to my woes… how I didn’t want to wake up this morning, but it wasn’t to be, even the sudden thunder storm at 4 this morning didn’t stop me from attending work this super lazy Saturday.
So there I was sporting a two day stubble, hair tied in a wee pony, dressed in pair of torn jeans and a kurta all set to leave for work, I was running a wee late, but then again it was Saturday and the big boss was out of town. That’s when my phone rang, it was a client, innaneness poured over through the conversation, I climbed down the two flights of steps got into my car (still on the phone) and reversed straight into the light pole next to my parking spot…. BANG….. CRASH…….. Splaterrrrrrr…… 13 years of driving and there I was facing the most embarrassing moment of my driving career. Of all the things I had to reverse into a light pole thereby denting my wee car. …damaging the pole and breaking the tube light that dawned my street every evening.
The neighbors weren’t too happy…. I could see an old lady run towards me with her stick, brandishing it like a weapon of mass destruction. I was left with no option but to apologize loudly and drive away to safety.( my flat mate still cant get over the whole incident and I am sure as hell that I would be reminded of the same till my death bed.)
Anyways work… oh well was a wee bit boring, we were all supposed to leave work at 1, but alas and if only, the boss called and ordered all of us to stay back in till 4... All plans of spending this lazy sat afternoon went crashing into the proverbial abyss of our existence, the proverbial iron color around our necks just felt tighter and life felt like a bitch …
I still got another hour and nine minutes to go before I can go home and schleeep... but it feels like a few light years away… I WANNNA GO HOMEEEEEEEEEEE
The taste of the bitter coffee consumed less than hour ago, keeps me awake... the eyes like always beg to be shut. It’s hot…. the air conditioning aint helping… Delhi… sigh it’s a lazy place to be in this afternoon... and for crying out loud this hasn’t been the best day of my life. It could have been far worse ( like i could have been kidnapped by ugly aliens) and I am just glad it aint.
Woke up with a hang over from hell… a Friday of debauchery didn’t help my cause… a sick flat mate just added to my woes… how I didn’t want to wake up this morning, but it wasn’t to be, even the sudden thunder storm at 4 this morning didn’t stop me from attending work this super lazy Saturday.
So there I was sporting a two day stubble, hair tied in a wee pony, dressed in pair of torn jeans and a kurta all set to leave for work, I was running a wee late, but then again it was Saturday and the big boss was out of town. That’s when my phone rang, it was a client, innaneness poured over through the conversation, I climbed down the two flights of steps got into my car (still on the phone) and reversed straight into the light pole next to my parking spot…. BANG….. CRASH…….. Splaterrrrrrr…… 13 years of driving and there I was facing the most embarrassing moment of my driving career. Of all the things I had to reverse into a light pole thereby denting my wee car. …damaging the pole and breaking the tube light that dawned my street every evening.
The neighbors weren’t too happy…. I could see an old lady run towards me with her stick, brandishing it like a weapon of mass destruction. I was left with no option but to apologize loudly and drive away to safety.( my flat mate still cant get over the whole incident and I am sure as hell that I would be reminded of the same till my death bed.)
Anyways work… oh well was a wee bit boring, we were all supposed to leave work at 1, but alas and if only, the boss called and ordered all of us to stay back in till 4... All plans of spending this lazy sat afternoon went crashing into the proverbial abyss of our existence, the proverbial iron color around our necks just felt tighter and life felt like a bitch …
I still got another hour and nine minutes to go before I can go home and schleeep... but it feels like a few light years away… I WANNNA GO HOMEEEEEEEEEEE
Monday, March 19, 2007
Zephyr in my head…
Its 2 am… sleep is a luxury I cant afford… my head hurts... my eyes are begging to be shut... but the mind is awake and privy to a million thoughts… memories like the zephyr rush in.. Beautiful... and fresh... it brings with it... everything that’s passed me by... its just me and all these thoughts rushing in… the snow… the rain… the one line mails.. the cig that’s smoked till it begs you to stop the drunken stupors... the cold... the midnight sun... the hours at my study…doing nothing but gazing beyond the window…searching for answers to questions which didn’t exist…
Words are like threads…stitched together to form a veil for one’s existence... I remind my self... that I have come a long way... a long way from what I didn’t want… but this mind just plays it all in my head over and over again.. I smile just thinking these memories shall last forever...
Its 2 am… sleep is a luxury I cant afford… my head hurts... my eyes are begging to be shut... but the mind is awake and privy to a million thoughts… memories like the zephyr rush in.. Beautiful... and fresh... it brings with it... everything that’s passed me by... its just me and all these thoughts rushing in… the snow… the rain… the one line mails.. the cig that’s smoked till it begs you to stop the drunken stupors... the cold... the midnight sun... the hours at my study…doing nothing but gazing beyond the window…searching for answers to questions which didn’t exist…
Words are like threads…stitched together to form a veil for one’s existence... I remind my self... that I have come a long way... a long way from what I didn’t want… but this mind just plays it all in my head over and over again.. I smile just thinking these memories shall last forever...
Friday, January 19, 2007
In Memory of the 'Law Pod'
( A late December Post)
With tears in my eyes I slowly picked up the lifeless pod… the ember glow of its dials no longer burnt bright… there was still life.. but time was running out…. With my dying friend in my hand I ran …. destination any spot in the house which had some warm life saving sun light, my law pods excelsior of life….
An hour later nothing had much had changed, life was slowly being drained out of that wee pod…. Something drastic had to be done… the house nurse was summoned ( my mums' a doctor so there is no shortage of nurses in the house)… and was categorically asked to dry the cold and freezing pod… lill did I know that it was the last time my law pod would breathe….
The nurse ( Bhimkala) did return 10 minutes later…. a disfigured law pod in her hands.. I screamed.. pulled out my lonnnng hair.. what had she done? Whatever happened to this once smart pod? MICROWAVE.. yes that’s what happened to my law pod… the house nurse shoved it in the microwave for 30 seconds with the hope of drying it…. My wee pod was first drowned and then burnt.. a sad and painful death indeed….
Now as i look back... all the hours spent with the law pod bring back memories both good and bad... it shall be dearly missed
Saturday, January 13, 2007
My Moment High in the Sky…
The blue skies, the nippy zephyr and the warm mountain sunshine…just Glen, her and me…lost in the abyss they call my world… surrounded by mountains…snow peaked and enchanting… I sat there slowly sipping on my milky coffee, smoking a cig and soaking in the moments that were passing me by.. they were my last… the last of the many we had shared and the last of the ones that awaited us… time could have stood still but it didn’t…instead it flowed as steadily as the mountain stream hidden amongst those towering peaks…
The blue skies, the nippy zephyr and the warm mountain sunshine…just Glen, her and me…lost in the abyss they call my world… surrounded by mountains…snow peaked and enchanting… I sat there slowly sipping on my milky coffee, smoking a cig and soaking in the moments that were passing me by.. they were my last… the last of the many we had shared and the last of the ones that awaited us… time could have stood still but it didn’t…instead it flowed as steadily as the mountain stream hidden amongst those towering peaks…
Everything was just perfect… the pizzas roasted over the freshly chopped fire wood… the coffee spiked with goats’ milk…those eyes… and the music that played over and over again in my head… I was finally living those dreams I had spent planning in my head for months at end while I lay alone in that hole…. There wasn’t a cloud in sight.. not in the sky nor in my head.. clarity for once was my forte…clarity of thought, mind and soul… and as I sat under the shade of that towering deodar tree.. my soul was reborn ….
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Saddam - An Execution or a Well Planned Murder- You Decide
30th December 2006
Woke up this morning and I was sure nothing was going to be the same again, at approximately half eight Indian standard time Saddam Hussian was finally executed. Days of speculation came to end in one sleepy moment. A travesty of sorts, a violation of rights we all fight and sometimes even try and stand for. Images of a morose yet somberly peaceful Saddam standing with the hangmen waiting for his end to engulf him. The image is going to haunt me forever, a ruler an alleged tyrant was finally consumed by the American hypothesis of unriddled guilt and underlying fear towards the middle east and the Muslims.
One is consumed by many a questions in regards to the outcome and the desire behind this satanic action. Is this a victory in the fight towards terror as alleged by Bush? Or is it the realization of a new democracy in Iraq, my answers to the above posed questions is for obvios reasons in the negative.
Saddam's execution is not going to stop the flow of terror in the world community if at all it will only result in the increase of the back lash by the Muslims towards the Americans and their allies. To add to this is the insensitive timing of the execution, which was carried out on the holy day of the Muslim calendar, now just imagine Bush being executed ( if at all,) on Christmas, how would then that be accepted by the Americans and the West.
The West often complains of terrorism and jehad, but aren’t these insensitive and completely unjustified actions a reason for the birth of these so called terrorists? There is only a limit till where a person can be stretched and his patience tried, how long will the West especially the Americans walk over the sentiments and the lives of the millions of Muslims who are being tortured and killed in Iraq and Afghanistan?
The unfolding of these events only takes my mind back to the dark days preceding the holocaust, where Adolf Hitler had convinced the Germans that the Jews were a blotch on the world society and a threat, which eventually led to the cold blooded extermination of millions of Jews. Keeping this in mind it can easily be concluded that the Americans are doing just the same in today’s world against the Muslims, by convincing the dumb uneducated Americans that the Muslims are a threat to world peace and detrimental to their own existence. Isn’t then genocide being committed by Bush and the Americans towards the hapless Muslim community?
Coming back to Saddam, one has to realize that he was captured after being drugged by the use of chemical gases (which has been denied by the Americans) and later portrayed to the world with injuries to the forehead and condition that was worse than one could have perceived. The following 3 years were nothing short of the violations of Saddam’s rights, with tabloids in the UK running pictures of this once great leader doing his laundry or walking around in his prison cell in underwear. Even the trial as per the international legal standards which have developed since the Nuremburg trials was a farce and a blotch on the international criminal justice system. Saddam was not only denied his basic inherent legal rights, but it was made sure that most of the lawyers defending him were killed during his trial. This throws up yet another important question, why then was not Saddam tried by an International Court outside of Iraq, why was then the trail allowed to be conducted by a biased Iraqi court, which had only one plan laid out for this erstwhile leader…Death!!! Execution and Humiliation!!!
30th December 2006
Woke up this morning and I was sure nothing was going to be the same again, at approximately half eight Indian standard time Saddam Hussian was finally executed. Days of speculation came to end in one sleepy moment. A travesty of sorts, a violation of rights we all fight and sometimes even try and stand for. Images of a morose yet somberly peaceful Saddam standing with the hangmen waiting for his end to engulf him. The image is going to haunt me forever, a ruler an alleged tyrant was finally consumed by the American hypothesis of unriddled guilt and underlying fear towards the middle east and the Muslims.
One is consumed by many a questions in regards to the outcome and the desire behind this satanic action. Is this a victory in the fight towards terror as alleged by Bush? Or is it the realization of a new democracy in Iraq, my answers to the above posed questions is for obvios reasons in the negative.
Saddam's execution is not going to stop the flow of terror in the world community if at all it will only result in the increase of the back lash by the Muslims towards the Americans and their allies. To add to this is the insensitive timing of the execution, which was carried out on the holy day of the Muslim calendar, now just imagine Bush being executed ( if at all,) on Christmas, how would then that be accepted by the Americans and the West.
The West often complains of terrorism and jehad, but aren’t these insensitive and completely unjustified actions a reason for the birth of these so called terrorists? There is only a limit till where a person can be stretched and his patience tried, how long will the West especially the Americans walk over the sentiments and the lives of the millions of Muslims who are being tortured and killed in Iraq and Afghanistan?
The unfolding of these events only takes my mind back to the dark days preceding the holocaust, where Adolf Hitler had convinced the Germans that the Jews were a blotch on the world society and a threat, which eventually led to the cold blooded extermination of millions of Jews. Keeping this in mind it can easily be concluded that the Americans are doing just the same in today’s world against the Muslims, by convincing the dumb uneducated Americans that the Muslims are a threat to world peace and detrimental to their own existence. Isn’t then genocide being committed by Bush and the Americans towards the hapless Muslim community?
Coming back to Saddam, one has to realize that he was captured after being drugged by the use of chemical gases (which has been denied by the Americans) and later portrayed to the world with injuries to the forehead and condition that was worse than one could have perceived. The following 3 years were nothing short of the violations of Saddam’s rights, with tabloids in the UK running pictures of this once great leader doing his laundry or walking around in his prison cell in underwear. Even the trial as per the international legal standards which have developed since the Nuremburg trials was a farce and a blotch on the international criminal justice system. Saddam was not only denied his basic inherent legal rights, but it was made sure that most of the lawyers defending him were killed during his trial. This throws up yet another important question, why then was not Saddam tried by an International Court outside of Iraq, why was then the trail allowed to be conducted by a biased Iraqi court, which had only one plan laid out for this erstwhile leader…Death!!! Execution and Humiliation!!!
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