Stuck....

The rain refuses to abate, I would rather have it snow, but the relentless downpour confines us to our rooms, there is no outlet, locked and over worked on a Sunday afternoon is the call for the hour

A passing thought for the day-

There is no such thing as a free lunch and more than often you end up paying with your sanity

As this day dawned I wondered why I woke up? Sunday morning and I had to be up by 7, the thoughts of lazing in bed till noon were quickly washed away like a torrent.
She was up, and sharpening her knives, by the time I found my self standing at her door, the knives were sharp enough to cut through metal.
I wonder what it was? Was it the food I cooked for her last night? Something was amiss this morning, sanity was passé.

You can on most occasions sense danger, when faced with, this morning I knew it was real, with less than 24 hours till D day, all hell was slowly but surely breaking lose.

Midnight urge for booze

So here I am and its near midnight, I cant buy booze of a rack here coz the darn swiss don’t sell booze after 9 pm, its fucking worse than delhi, and a lot of other places I have found myself stranded in...

Thankfully there is a (almost) friendly neighborhood bar to quench my thirst at. I must point they don’t serve my poison of choice, the good ol scotch, but they do have unlimited quantities of beer ( yuck)

So its me and a pint of Carlsberg, the good thing – you can smoke in the bar, all those anti tobacco campaigners can go and fuck them selves as I write this. The joys of smoking over a drink are unparallel, its close to an orgasm, its better than life itself. and considering the same why would you waste your time banning smoking in pubs all at our expense? why?

And if I do get cancer, its my life, and all that shyte about second hand smoke, too bad you guys can still fuck your selves

abstract is the mind!!!

The skies are grey and laden, the wind is cold and lonely, the mind it wanders, untouched yet scathed by the unseen.
Nick drake croons in the distance.” Autumn leaves and winter skies….”
This and more tries to reopen the wounds once healed, the scars they crave for your attention.
The lake and its shimmering lights beg to be touched, the fog engulfs your existence.
You are reduced to a slave, a victim of the joys of one’s dreams once unfulfilled.

A walk through the flea market in Geneve

Abstract is the mind, abstract are the thoughts, lost you stand in the middle of nowhere, the sun shines through the clouds, bizarre is this bubble, no one speaks your language, you smell the sweet smell of marijuana, it plays around with your senses, you seek it out, you chase it, you need it to fight the misery.

Treasures from around the world reach out to you, the broken used smoking pipes, the junk jewels once donned by the fortunate few, the caravan selling its wee delights.

The old men, the older women, their ancient robes and their treasures all up for sale.

An anti war procession outside the UN

We live in a bubble, we pay our taxes ( atleast some of us) we work hard ( atleast most of us) to earn our bread ( which is generally stale) and sometimes even the butter ( which I stay away from), we as a race are selfish and self obsessed.
Its always all about us, me, I, our wants, our desires, our miseries, and I aint no different, I am the same shyte that walks this face of this earth.
We all live in denial, the blood that is shed around us affects us for not more than a few minutes and after which we just push it to the back of our minds, trying our best to forget it ever happened.

Why do I state what I state? I don’t know, is it the war in Gaza? Possible, is it the death of those children whose bodies were found cold and bloodied by the bullets and rockets of Israel and the US?

I wish I had an answer to the queries’ posed, but I was affected when I saw the procession of people who stood outside the UN building urging the UN to stop the bloodshed, stop the senseless killing.

It was all too cold and impersonal, the saviors and the upholders of our human rights meanwhile just sat in their plush offices and sipped on their expensive coffee, while hundreds died and suffered in the Gaza and many more stood outside the Palas des Nations screaming their selves hoarse.

Notes to self...

Gaga Yogi to the rescue

In the words of the gaga yogi- nothingness is everywhere, its reddish in color and very heavy.

Heavy yes, I can agree with, I am surrounded with nothingness and it all feels rather heavy to say the least.

This is a strange world, Paulo Cohelo was wrong when he said, if you want something bad the whole universe connives to make sure you get it.

Partially but incorrect assessment of the power of the universe, the problem is when you want something really bad, the world does connives but by the time you do get what you wanted, you just don’t care for it no more.
The United Nations was the epitome of my wants, my desires my needs and my dreams, but being brown doesn’t always help, people less qualified and far less colored beat you to it.

It happened to me, and by the end of it I didn’t care a flying fuck for the UN or its unadulterated beauracracy and discrimination.

So when it finally did happen, I found my self-sitting at the back of my office smoking a cheap cig and wondering why? Why? What did I do to literally deserve this.

All said and done I am in Geneva now, .., and to say the least I am not sure If I am enjoying any bit of it.

All I know is by the time the sun sets on this endeavor, I would have changed for ever and for the worse

If we wonder what happiness entails, then look around and you will find it, just today a friend over chat told me she was happy and content, that made me happy.
Cant ask for more.

Read on a blog

http://finallyseeing.tumblr.com/post/65560624

"YOU GRIEVE AT THE LEVEL YOU LOVED"

Lord Vedder, ALWAYS

I have been asked many a times who is my inspiration, and I have never had an answer, I have never looked for one, I never felt the need for one, logically why would I need to be inspired, I live in a bubble that needs no inspiration.

But nonetheless if there is a driving force if I can call it that, its music, and especially Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam.

From where I stand, my life has revolved around them since the day I heard their first album Ten, it’s been a never ending relationship since, I own and have literally killed all their records by hearing them over and over again for days to come.

I even once formed a band and sang nothing but their covers, trying to copy his style learning and deciphering his lyrics
.
Pearl Jam and Eddie are that source of inspiration which maybe people ask me about

Eddie’s voice like a rumbling train through a valley, clear and commanding has been a source of my existence and maybe even inspiration.

The Room

Its not the room I grew up in, it aint a room with a view, it aint mine, yet I haven’t come across one which throws so much at you,
Its larger than life yet being only this tiny space in the corner of this really old house.

Its walls are cracking, it’s lit by wee lamps strewn around, there is chaos, there is a soul that lives there, and its free.
The music rambles along, it’s a place I wish I could call mine, the pictures on the walls, all come to life, the birds that fly past the fairy lights in sepia,

The blue curtains faded and old shut out the world,

The books old and aging, the musty odor of knowledge engulfs your senses.

There are no words that will justify this room, the room without a view yet free to view the world.

Bring on the Green Dragon

I don’t advocate for drugs, but an existence so skewed it’s hard to go without a few drags of the green dragon.
The numbness that follows is a never-ending abyss of ecstasy, life slows down, gives you enough time to take stock of what’s around.
The anger abates, the lights grow dim, the music feels like a never-ending orgasm.
The conversation is refreshing, the books strewn around, the mess, the cracks on the wall, all seem surreal.
I wonder why I ever let go.

Re learning the civil laws

It was quite strange how I was never inclined towards civil laws, I hated them found them boring and just not worth the effort, but as luck would have it, I find my self involved with some civil matters and I regret never paying any attention towards learing the civil code.

Back in law school all I did was just learnt the relevant portions and managed to clear my exams, the situation was so bad that a few hours before my exam I had no clue there was a whole chapter on orders which I had no knowledge about.
Sigh … now I find myself having to learning the whole darn thing all over again.

The boss is in her elements this day..

like a tsunami she rumbles along..

like a tornado she blows..

like an earthquake she destroys all in her path..

like a knife she cuts, slow, every blow like a surgeons artful stroke..

the associates run for cover, with no where to hide..

The tempest reigns supreme..

the end is neigh...

Give her some weed.

Really I think they should make smoking up mandatory in our office. There is so much existential angst that’s its scary, screams of despair, shouts of angst, files being torn and thrown.

I have tried finding a solution to this mess, but from where I stand now, I think the only thing that might help is some hard core smoking up.

The good ol’ weed shall come to rescue, we all need to be stoned immaculate to survive this.

Picture source- www.cricinfo.com

Produced above is the image of the healing power of cricket, the image of victory

Cricket always seems to be the soothing balm, a great Indian victory today over the Poms was just what the doctor ordered. 26/11 is still on my mind, the freaking media just doesn’t let you forget it. The boss's unrealistic demands get even more unrealistic with every passing minute.

But despite all this, India pulled off a victory I never thought was possible. For four days I just followed the Indian team’s progress through the newspapers coz watching them loosing was far too painful. But over the last 24 hours they did what no team in India has done, chasing down 387 on a final day of a test match in India.

Its fantastic, its unbelievable, its just what the doctor ordered, fuck terrorism, fuck deadlines, fuck everything else, long live the game of the cricket.

P.S- its high time the Poms give back the Kohinoor diamond, bloody thieves

A Failed State

A failed state? Maybe, do I have an answer? I guess not, I come across cases, news reports et al which convince me that we are a failed state to say the least.

Corruption in every sector including the judiciary and the legal system is totally disheartening,

I have been reading a charge sheet for one of my clients who was arrested for reasons made by the state, reasons which were a manifestation of the politics we find ourselves entwined in.

It pains to know that we cant and wont take action against such atrocities and corruption.

The “great India” is a myth, its more like toilet paper I wont wipe my arse with.

I don’t know how many people is it gonna take for a united stand against this rubbish. The corporate’s are busy making money and following the stocks and we human rights lawyers and activists are reduced and termed as the ‘jhola clan’

O come on wake up

One of the statements that really hurt me post the 26/11 attacks on Bombay, was how bad it was that the Taj and the Oberoi were attacked, and the said statement was made by a famous cine artist and all while ignoring those who were killed at the VT station where the common man takes a ride back home.

Will the corporate’s only rise when one of their own is killed or shot? The common middle class man who cant pay 2000 rupees for a meal is not valued by this failed state.

I am not trying to undermine the death of the corporate’s the crème de la crème, all I am saying is give a thought to the common man. The you and the me.

The events of 26/11 left me numbed, distressed and disturbed, it was a tough phase not just for every human but also every Indian who watched terror being unleashed live on their television screens.

It was scary to say the least, by the end of it, I was raging, fuming and hate flowed from every pore, but I restrained from going over board with my emotions and thus took a conscious decision of refraining from writing anything on my blog, instead I channelized my energies to pen an analysis on terror and international law which I shall post here soon enough.

It’s a catch 22 situation, you sit at your workstation, waiting for the boss to get up and leave for court with you, but she just refuses to, the clients have called up three times and the matter is about to start but the boss refuses to leave, she sits there and every request made for any action is responded by contorted facial gesticulation.

I wonder what to do? Anyways she woke up on the wrong side of her bed this morning and any form of communication with her is riddled with danger. She has been snapping at all like a rattle snake that’s been stepped on.

So much more to tell, but so little to write about, the hair is growing yet again, a wee pony returned this morning. I have a new turtle named Gimli ( all while violating the Wildlife Act,) therefore attracting penal consequences, super!!

My house slowly and surely turns into a wee zoo, a wildlife sanctuary, that day aint far when my neighbours shall refer to it as the Mehak’s (read Noah) ark.

Mind continues to wander to the day that never was, its all strange, winter does bring with it a constant nostalgic thought process

Love Thy Neighbour.

Those eyes say it all, disapproving looks, their heads shake each time I pass them, words uttered, its all about me.

I am THE neighbour from hell, a role model from Satan’s backyard, that day aint far when my neighbours will cover the eyes of their kids every time I pass them.
Loud head-banging music pours out of my apartment at all times to come, all while my God fearing neighbours play gospel songs and bhajans, I have roudy drunk friends who sit in the patio and create mayhem from hell.

I almost sport a ponytail, I abuse clients and threaten cops, my friends and me are quasi alcoholics, who raise the bar a wee higher every Saturday night .
I don’t answer their calls, I don’t heed to their requests to turn down the volume at 3 am, I don’t attend their prayer services every Sunday.

I also don’t have a picture of an Indian God at my front door, what I do have instead are empty booze bottles lined up like trophies from a kill.

I am from their perspective the Devil himself, I fight with them over parking, on one occasion we even trashed a car parked near my house, who had allegedly brushed against a friends car.

It aint funny but its fun, when I watch their kids run for cover when they see me approach, maybe this has something to do with the time when I held one of them upside down when he tried teasing my dog.

Their parents don’t mess with me, ( its at times like these when I love my profession or atleast the threat factor that comes with it, more like fuck with me and ill make sure that’s the last time you fuck with anything)

Yea I am a great neighbour.

St Anger!

I wonder what’s wrong? Is it the weather? Is it the flu? I dunno, but all I wanna do is punch someone, hit someone, the anger within is real and pure. It needs to be unleashed, someone needs to be a victim, I need to see blood, I need to feel the pain, I need to hear me knuckles crack, the sound of flesh hitting flesh shall be music to my ears.

I need this to pass, I need some sleep I guess, but I am stuck at work, and I have a hearing coming up in an hour and I so don’t want to be a part of it.

We won we won we won we won we won we won we won we won…..

The sun sets over Delhi, the haze hangs low, orange hues streak the skies, but for me only one thing matters, India’s victory over the cry babies bad loser’s good for nothing cheaters the Australians.
It’s a victory of good over the evil, right over wrong, men over ‘monkeys’ (monkey is not a racist comment ), fighters over cheaters and more.
India have avenged their overtly wrongful defeat at Sydney earlier this year, where the mother fucking aussies cheated their way to a victory.
I love cricket and I respect good cricketers, but the aussies deserve nothing but shyte rubbed across their faces, every one of them.
To be honest all aussies are bastards descendants of criminals and sore losers.
Long live Indian Cricket and I do hope Ponting their captain is fired and Symonds drowns on his next fishing trip.

382 is the magic figure, the number of runs needed by Australia to win the 4th test match, which would enable them to square the 4 match test series and therefore retain the border gavasker trophy.
I spent the whole of last night and early this morning in sheer anticipation of what lies ahead. I don’t have access to live cricket but I am following it very closely on my laptop on the best cricker site in the word www.cricinfo.com.
It’s a tough task on a fifth day pitch but its not impossible, for India its imperitve the aforementioned number stays out of reach of the fucking aussies, who have cheated and brought disrepute to the game all while climbing the ladder of success.
They deserve to lose they deserve to be beaten for what they did at Sydney earlier this year. For India and as a cricket loving Indian there is nothing more important than to avenge that defeat and retain the trophy.
As time stands right now, we have claimed two aussie wickets and were close enough to getting the third had it not been an umpiring error.
I got my hands folded and a constant prayer on my lips.
Lets hope India wins this…

Cant get over the hangover.

Hangovers, ah well they are a work of art, they are a form self-inflicted torture, it’s a direct outcome of a night of debauchery, a night of indulgence.

Its not like I cant hold my drinks, I can to be honest, and over the last few years every time I have neared the point of no return, the point where your head spins like a top and the world resembles a vomit bowl, I have stopped, my body has over the last years shouted and told me to stop and I have obediently given into the needs of my aging body.

But last night was different, there were no signs, I kept drinking till I heard a bang in my head, it was actually my head hitting the floor.

And before I knew it I was gone!!, my head spun and the urge to let it out was overwhelming, I cant remember much, just the fish in the tank looked prettier and the light from the fish tank was too painful to look at.

And like it always happens, the sun rose, bright and beautiful, but my head, lord my head, it felt like a lead ball being pounded by ironsmith

I literally had to drag my sorry arse and my heavy head to work, where I sat popping pills and drinking tea, coffee and juice just to get rid of the hangover, and frankly I have been fighting a loosing battle all day

What have I learnt from this? I don’t know, maybe quit drinking, quit mixing whisky and wine? I don’t know , only time will tell

A quick quip on litigation

The problem with litigation (at the higher levels of the judiciary), atleast from where I stand, is that even the smallest issue snowballs into this out of control monster, which is hard to tame at times.

The sun sets over Delhi and I am back in the office, its been a long but not so fruitful day, was handed a really badly drafted and researched draft to argue this morning, despite my efforts to salvage the case I doubt we will get favourable orders.

At the High Court the constitutional challenges to the penal section penalizing adult consensual gay sex is coming to an end, with today being the penultimate day of arguments. I am glad we are doing rather well with the matter and it shall all be over tomorrow. (at least for now, till the matter is appealed to the Apex Court)

On a happier note, India has done decently well in their final test match at Nagpur against the biggest wankers in the world the Aussies, and Lord Sachin made a century after a long time.

The evening ahead looks as boring as ever; there is some research, some drafting and lots of reading.

It’s well past midnight and the bouts of boredom haven’t subsided or miraculously disappeared, I am still as bored as I was this afternoon.
There is a file that’s begging to be read, a client’s life kinda depends on it, but I am just too bored to even look at it.
There is a lot of editorial work left on the magazine, which I refuse to touch, ( I am already a month late on the up coming issue and yea the boss threw a fit about it this afternoon),
I cant complain of a break or a vacation, I just took one after 11 months last week, it helped I agree I was all charged up till the weekend and now I am a spent force.
I guess there is too much on my plate yet again, am juggling between research for the boss, her clients, her cases, my cases, my clients, the national conference, the magazine and the umpteen papers I write for her every week.
Frankly I am dreading tomorrow, I have two matters in the family court, one in the high court and one in the Supreme Court ( as for the matter I had been waiting for last two days , it has been adjourned for Lord only knows how many years ) ( the last time it came up for hearing was in 2000, when I was still in second year of my law school).

Obama Overdose

And there is no end to the Obama victory, its getting a wee grotesque to say the least.
My fellow Indians cant get enough out of his victory, its crazy how America ( never really an Indian ally) gets a new president and the Indians are behaving like they won a million dollar lottery.
C’mon, look within, look at our politics, rather than spending your life and time cheering Obama, look at our guys a bunch of wankers all of them
Do something about our politics rather than overtly rejoicing about another nations political development.
Moreso I think its more about being cool, I am an Indian I am cool I support Obama. A whole hoard of bull crap
What the fuck get a life you guys

There are days

There are day and then there are days I wonder under which category does today fall in. I guess its just one of ‘those’ days, where I am bored beyond comprehension.
I have a matter pending in the Supreme Court, but its being passed over since yesterday and waiting for it has just driven me mad, borderline psychotic to say the least.
There is some pending research, which is as boring as milking a dead cow, and some drafting which is worse than skinning a cockroach.
Lord Help Me

Obama wins-But lets not go overboard please

Woke up this morning and surprisingly the first thing I checked were the US election results, at 7 20 am IST Obama still needed another 70 seats to walk into the White House.

But by the time I got into work Obama had won, Big news I agree, but a bigger deal I aint sure about.
Yes I am abreast with the world around me and I am more than glad that the tyranny of Bush is over, but why is everyone around me going over board with it.

I wont deny I am happy, a black man who supports the hippies is in the White House but it aint the biggest deal is it now?
My suggestion hold on to your horses, let Obama take the rein and we shall see what the new day has in store for all

Goodbye Iglen

So, here I am, writing my first post on my newest laptop ( it still hasn’t been christened), iglen is history. It lived a dignified life and was a great companion. I will miss cleaning its white body everyday just to make sure it aint stained for all times to come.
I have come a long way from using a Compaq (my first laptop named sweetie ) which was brutally murdered in the backyard after it gave me hell for 2 years, to glen my trusted IBM which was eaten alive by red ants to iglen who walked into the sunset holding its head high after having served me without any glitches.
A new day has dawned and so has the new shiny silver macbook pro and yea I am excited.

Choices

If only, choices were as simple as they seem to be then life would be a walk in the park, its hard sometimes not to end up doing what you really wanna do, the constant struggle between the heart and the mind, the good and the bad.
All these choices, the slippery slope of life, its just way to hard.
Its there you can see it, but its al forbidden. Its just a wee crazy

The week gone by..

So much has happened over the last few days that its hard to put all down on a piece of paper.

To say the least the trip back home was rather refreshing ( albeit stressful, with the boss and clients calling me every hour and finally my drive back to Delhi at 4 in the morning, with a near sick dog by my side)

Back at work, feels like shyte, there are way too many deadlines coming up et al.

But it is more about yesterday that I feel the need to write, Anil Kumble a.k.a Jumbo hung up his boots, Indian cricket just lost its greatest statesmen.

It was indeed a very sad day for me, which I duly spent crying over a smoke and a glass of scotch.

Moreso, Lewis Hamilton became the world champion, despite Massa winning his Home Grand prix all thanks Timo Glock pulling up on the last corner to allow Hamilton to pass and win.

I wonder how much he was paid, but at the end of the day no one deserves to be a champion in this form. From where I look at it, Hamilton is a cheat and a totally undeserving world champion. If the Italian Mafioso is reading this I do hope they kill both Glock and Hamilton.

If all goes well, I should be home this time tomorrow. As of now I am reeling under immense pressure, there are way too many things that need to be done before I can leave.

My fish need to be taken care off, hopefully the weekend pellet feed shall suffice till I return mid next week.

If all goes well, I should be home this time tomorrow. As of now I am reeling under immense pressure, there are way too many things that need to be done before I can leave.

My fish need to be taken care of, hopefully the weekend pellet feed shall suffice till I return mid next week.

I just cant seem to shake this sleep off me, it’s a lazy week and the vacation is only a few days away. As a matter of fact so is Diwali, that reminds me I have to go out and buy some fairy lights and candles for the house.

How I would love to just spend some time at home and not thinking about work and courts and clients and the boss.. blissful existence

Tribute to Lord Sachin

If cricket is religion then Sachin Tendulkar is GOD. Yes I know it’s a wee bit over the top but then for me and a million other cricket crazy Indians the word cricket and Sachin go together.

I have grown up watching him, cheering him on, crying with him, crying for him, watching with awe how he has created magic on the cricket field.

I remember the only time I met him in 1996 and I broke down, I don’t know why I did, but it was a moment I cant forget.
And today at 2:31 pm IST he broke the world Record for being the highest run getter in test cricket ( he already holds the WR for maximum runs in ODI’s)

It was a moment I missed live by 1 min, I was climbing the stairs to my apartment when Tendulkar hit those crucial world record breaking runs. But I caught the celebrations and the fireworks, and yes I was left teary eyed aright!!!!

Play on Sachin, Play on God!!!

Normal?
Sent over gtalk by a colleague

Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it.

- Ellen Goodman

Coffee, my cup of joy

Fifteen minutes to court, and am sitting at my desk trying to kick start my day with a cup of coffee.

My coffee, Lord bless the soul who discovered coffee beans and brewed into a cup of joy.

For me I love my coffee black and bitter, a teaspoon of coffee, half cup of hot water and another half cup of cold water and its all done. That’s just the way I love my cup of joy.

Back at me desk after a long morning in Court and rather satisfying to say the least, where my colleague and I literally kicked the Additional Solicitor General’s (our opposing counsel in the matter for decriminalizing homosexuality between consenting adults in India) arse to ebbs of the milky way.

We are rather proud of it. Gay rights way to go!!!

I cant sleep,I cant let these mosquitoes suck my blood, I cant read in the candle light, my eyes are crying out for help and I cant continue to while away my time randomly browsing over the world wide web, so off I go with my dog zara for a walk.

Frustration at midnight

Its near midnight, am home after a near hopeless day at work, and what am I faced with? Another power cut?

Why? I pay my taxes I pay my bills, but every fuckin night the government wants to violate me fundamental right as envisaged under Article 21 of the Constitution of India, my right to life, my right to enjoy a life free of encumbrances, enjoy my life sans mutant mosquitoes, enjoy my life sans power cuts.

As I sit here yet again, without the much needed air conditioning and electricity I cant help but think of all those people at the electricity department I want to kill

If I had my way, if only I was a legislator I would pass an Act, The Prohibition of Power Cuts Act of 2008.

The act would strictly be a criminal statute, envisaging the summary execution of manager of the Electricity department under whose jurisdiction there is a power cut.

The act would also provide for life imprisonment for his subordinates.
Arghhhhhhh

Random October Musing

Autumn, the nip in the air, the haze filled dusks, the long nights, the smell of burning leaves, the smoke that fills the night air, October the onset of winter, the peak of autumn, its beautiful and more.

This is my third October in Delhi and my mind wanders to my very first a few years ago. I was still in Law school and interning in Delhi, back then I hated Delhi more than hate it self but the month spent changed the way I looked at the city.

It was then that I discovered the joy this city hides, the warmth the city lacks, the fairy lights and a lot more, (reference to an earlier post) http://legallyunsound.blogspot.com/2006/06/happiness-misconstrued.html

I made some friends, some for life and some I cant find no more. People , memories and images are all too vivid for me to put on paper. I also discovered cold play and Chris Martin, and its strange I chance upon their new album 5 Octobers later.

It brings back a lot of those memories, the long drives, the smoke breaks on the terrace , the sunsets, the coffees…… October you beauty!!!!

Just another day in the life and times rolls on, clients break down over the phone, some French journalists get blasted, others are rudely put in place. The boss’s demands are never ending and the brewing cold war with my juniors gets colder.

Have just or rather am in the process of downloading cold play’s new ( atleast new enough for me).

Music has always helped, have been killing metallica the last few days, particularly ‘ the day that never comes’

I also have a new Siamese fighter fish named tatti on my desk, I am not particularly fond of him, he is a wee slow and rather dumb and lord can he shit.( thus the name)

Randomness takes over my life yet again. And its sooo not a phase. My thoughts reach out to the holiday that’s round the corner, my first this year.

I cant wait to go home, back to the valley I grew up in, the once wee town (now a bustling city) awaits me.

Every now and then I come across people who have no right to live. Even torture would be mild.

Its hard to fathom how such people work, its even harder to work with such stuck up people.

For me, my problem, I am just an inherently angry kinda guy. It doesn’t take much to push me off the edge, and lord save you (and me) when I do get pushed off that proverbial edge.

And right now someone here did just that. Its war, its open and it aint gonna be fair. Its gonna be loud and painful its gonna be spiced with hate and animosity, its gonna be something ill relish.

I want to see pain I want to see tears I wont rest till I have crushed that person and anyone else who comes in my way.

The new perfect Let Off

The perfect solution to randomness and boring work is the new set of wheels parked outside. A shiny black Yamaha R 15, blinding fast and definite eye candy.

It’s the perfect way out, every three hours or so of having spent my hours reading and typing away I take the mean machine for a wee spin, revving the engine to nine thousand rpm and blazing the roads at near neck breaking speed, I cant ask for more. It’s the perfect let off.

Long live the Dada

It was a moment that left me a wee speechless, home after a decently long day at work, the news channels had something of a shock in store for me . Saurav Ganguly the Prince of Kolkatta, the former captain of the Indian cricket team and the undisputed king of the offside had announced his retirement.

Even though Tendulkar takes precedence over every other cricketer in the world for me, Ganguly’s decision to retire left me teary eyed.

I do remember when he made is debut in Jan 1992, I was a wee kid, it was a cold morning and I was up against the tele watching and wondering who this idiot was who couldn’t face up the Windies. Back then I was glad he was dropped for the upcoming 1992 world cup and replaced by Vinod Kambli.

The following years were spent coming across his name in the newspapers every now and then ( whenever he scored a century for his local team Bengal ) but it was in the summer of 1996 that I was shocked to read that he was selected to play for India against the English in their very own backyards.

June 1996, and Navjot Singh Sidhu the mad surd of the Indian team had a fight with Azhar the then captain of the Indian team and returned home after the first test which gave Ganguly a chance to play and what followed was brilliance in the making.
Runs flowed like a raging river, Ganguly was suddenly the golden boy of Indian cricket, destroying the Pakis in 1997, killing the Lankans in 1999 at Taunton.

Which I reckon was his best ever one day innings of 183, I was in Hyderabad that day attending the Spic Macay convention and I missed watching that match live but what I heard left me awestruck of his skill. 11 huge sixes all of them landing in the river outside the stadium., sheer brilliance!!!

But then again no one is perfect and every professional has had his bad day, and so did Ganguly, his fights with that bastard Chappell ( I hope he gets hit by a Ganguly shot sitting on the sidelines and dies), his sitting out of the Nagpur test in 2004 and the list is long.

But all I can hope for is that Dada goes out on a winning note after scoring lots of runs in the forthcoming 4 test series against the Aussies and may he be always remembered as the man that did what no one else could to Indian cricket, MAKE them STAND UP AND FIGHT !!!!

What do you do when you have really fat neighbours who suddenly come to life in the middle of night walking heavily on the floor above you? Its nerve shattering especially when your dog starts growing crazy barking all while staring at the ceiling.

Three nights of constant banging upstairs I took matters into my own hands. Out came my laptop connected the same to my extremely loud and uber cool Harman Kardon speakers and played master of puppets on repeat. Loud enough for them to call me and beg to turn down the music.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind is what Desmond Tutu and Gandhi said, yea fuck you both I don’t believe in that shyte!!!!

Started my day with my daily dose of nicotine and caffeine and surprise surprise twenty minutes spent on the treadmill, after God only knows how long.

It felt good, some really loud earth shattering music ( Metallica ) enough for my extremely plebeian neighbours to cringe and the treadmill followed by some light weight training.

Yea… It was awesome!!!

Its just one of those days today, where everything seems slow. It’s the calm after the storm, the endless madness pretty much ended yesterday. I met my current deadlines and it feels great.

Today is just another day but a day where I can breathe, and feel free. A day I have spent just taking stock of whats been done and what lies ahead.

A day spent listening to U2 , viewing some old pictures and getting all nostalgic.

Famous Quotes from a Conference

Authors note
So here I am in Chandigarh, a sleepy capital of Punjab. Attending a conference, which neither my boss nor me had any inkling to be a part off. There was hectic reading and last minute drafting. But none the less we are here. I was supposed to be home this weekend after meeting my deadlines, but as luck would have it I was forced to board this flight

Produced below are some of the statements that made sense or atleast made me jump out of my perpetual sleepy sojourn at every conference I attend

Sanjoy Hazirka-
“ the role of the police is to protect the “raj” and the people are just incidental to further the cause of the raj”
“I am not a rights activist, I am just an overtly cynical journalist”
“Laws are created to essentially deal with the problems not to create a million more”’

Indira Jaising
“We have to live not only with the laws, but even the contradictions of those laws”

Bishnu
“There is a lot of difference between a liar and a bullshitter!!! And the liar is anyday better than a bullshitter”

One of the panelists

“There is a lot of ‘elaasticitee’ in the case”
Bhagat
“Lets move towards the normative and there is normativity in everything”

Babloo
“The media in Manipur lives under the gun”

“India cant look at 40 million people as a buffer zone with China”

Conference no more

Stuck at this conference far from the comforts of my home, I am already sick and have a borderline migraine. All this legal discourse on immunity and impunity is a wee much for me.

There is only so much one can talk or hear about an issue. And trust me when I say this the last week and a bit more has been spent researching and writing a paper for this conference and add to that the last 12 hours which have been spent hearing the same bull I have been reading about.

I wish it would end here but I have the whole of tomorrow as well which will be spent hearing some more narratives et al.

No smoking? What Shyte!!!

Thanks to the new “ No smoking in Public Places Rules” gone are the days when I could chill at work with a smoke. I dug my own grave, it was after all my very own office that dealt with the case and I was one of the briefing counsels who argued in favor of no smoking in public places.

Its really shyte. I WANT TO SMOKE AGAIN AT WORK. I WANT MY FUNDAMENTAL RIGHTS RESTORED

Fuck the client!!!!!

Anger, its brilliant, it’s a high, it’s a way out, it’s for those who fuck with my head.

Its especially for those clients who take me for granted and call me at any given hour and when I don’t respond to their calls at 3 am, they turn around and send a stinker to the boss, who in turn kicks my sorry arse to the ebbs of the milky way

But what the hell, there is only so much one can take, so yea anger aright!!! Seething, raving me , just tore a file and washed my hands of the case. For all I care the client can go take a paragliding fuck. HELLS YEA!!!!!

Thank you Miss Manian,

A world tormented by the boss came to life this evening, oblivious of the world outside, oblivious to Metallica's latest album, i was stunned into silence when i saw Unforgiven III in my inbox.

Heitfield and Ulrich were back, so were the solos,

Memories of a young me head-banging to Metallica were back

In the words of Brian Hiat ( Rolling Stones) " Death Magnetic is the musical equivalent of Russia's invasion of Georgia — a sudden act of aggression from a sleeping giant"

There is only so much one can do, breathing takes up most of your time and energy and whatever is left is spent trying to live.

Aint it ironical, we spend it all, on being what we never thought we would be.?

We end up being what we never wanted to be?

We end up living a life that aint ours

We end up being a far cry from the dreams we had set aside for us

We end up…

Being the we, we never thought we could ever be!

Almost

She sits, and waits, slow she reads the files, her hands running over the papers like a mantis over its prey.

Lord why? Really why? It was five this evening, the cool breeze blew over us and she had left, left for the weekend. We were free, we even celebrated, and maybe I even did the jiggy.

But then she came back without a warning. Came back to torment us, came back to make our already miserable lives hell.
Now she sits and waits…

Waits for us to slave some more, waits for us to lose our already looney minds.

This torture, this wait… some one fucking shoot me

Nothing seems to be working

Complete lack of sleep, hours in court with nothing but adjournments, a car that cries out for help, a house that needs cleaning, a study that resembles a war torn zone. Chaos ensues and engulfs the very bubble I call my life.

My mind, my life needs a break, maybe some marijuana might help?
The basic purpose of marijuana was to prove Darwin was wrong, maybe that’s what I need.
Maybe I need to come into work stoned and walk into the boss’s chamber and say hey ho!!! Supppp need a drag.. That might be help.

Crazy

What a week and a bit more, work, work and more work has been the call. It’s nothing new, but its all shyte.
Umpteen cups of coffee empty packs of smokes. It’s been rather crazy and even the weekend ahead looks bleak. I have a deadline coming up for the 3rd and that’s driving me nuts.
May the lord bless me

Summer gone by

Even though I love cribbing and complaining about everything around me I still cant get my self to crib about the summer that’s on its way out.

The summer just gone by on the contrary has been so unlike what you expect that I’m left with no option but to thank the weather gods for their unexpected benevolence.

Constant rains, thunderstorms, orange hued skies, were my constant companions the past months. Sitting by my patio every evening after work sipping on my lemon tea I would for hours just take in the brilliance of the monsoons and the almost non-existent heat.

To say the least it has been brilliant.

Technically winter is still 44 days away and I cant wait for the frost and fog to set in, the grey skies and bone numbing cold.

Life and times…

What started off as a day I had perceived to be chaotic ended on a decently high note.

Still reeling from the serial blasts (pretty much pissed and distressed after perusing through the morning newspapers), I headed out to deal with one of my biggest cases for the year.

Nearly 40 days had passed since I was unceremoniously handed the case, more so I was expecting for the matter to be adjourned and some more drafting and filing around the corner (that’s the bloody problem with the system, the paper work never ends, there are affidavits, counter affidavits, replies, rejoinders, transfer petitions, notifications, notices, service of notices, ) and lord if you don’t maintain a diary you can get screwed ( for the record I still don’t maintain a proper diary, my court clerk does it for and lord he is bad, but I never learn).

So anyways I was at the wheel of my car when it struck me that I had forgotten the case papers at my study, arghhhh!!!!

After some last minute readings and sorting at the office, I was off to court, only to realise that my fly had given way, no ways was I going to walk in to the Supreme Court Of India, with my fly undone, (spent the rest of the day at Court trying to cover my modesty with the British relic, the all hated black gown , donned by the Supreme Court lawyers), ( I have probably never really appreciated that darned gown before)

Mondays and Fridays are Miscellaneous days, which in layman terms means chaos, hundreds of matters on board, with most matters lasting not more than a few minutes, so if you are amongst those who have many matters in different courts it can be quite a workout.

Luckily for me I had only one matter of any significance, deep down I really wanted a closure with the darned case, there were way too many issues of no significance, more like every one was hell bent on making a mountain out of a mole hill, moreover the client had declared bankruptcy during the course of the legal proceedings and we were suffering huge losses.

My boss was equally sick of the case, (for all we care the Ja pan ese surr ogate child just had to go back to Japan and India ( Ministry of External Affiars) had way too many issues of its own to deal with a baby born to a Ja pan ese man.

Just a pointer, never deal with the J’s all their Ministers are mad, snooty and stuck up, and the clients never want to pay, for crying out loud, I haven’t met a more stuck up race.

There was complete chaos 18 minutes before the hearing, the boss was freaking out over some documents, the photocopier in the library was out of order, the court clerk went missing as usual, and the media was circling around like vultures over a dying prey. Just a perfect day in my life.

With less than 10 minutes, the boss the AOR and me stepped into the court room, the boss found a cosy chair for herself while the AOR and I were standing at the back of the courtroom and glancing over some papers, when he told me that just the day before one of the judges at the Bench was stuck with his wife in an elevator for 4 hours and was mighty pissed about it.

I couldn’t help but think of the mood he must be in and about the poor person who must have lost his job.

But to cut the long story short, it all went well after all and we got the order we wanted (pretty much won the case).. phew……

Well, so that was today, tomorrow shall be another adventure, I have two huge matters in the morning, and as usual I haven’t read the files (one of them is a dowry death case and the pictures produced as evidence were just down right gory and depressing, so have put them aside to be read in the loo early tomorrow morning,), as for the other one I was just too bored to read the darned case, thus will have my court clerk read them to me while I am driving to court.

All Pray…

Secular no more

Time is a great healer they say, I might agree with that, but what about those who have lost friends and families in serial blasts that have rocked our nation over the last 3 months, Bangalore, Jaipur, Surat Ahd and now Delhi.

Why are we fighting this proxy war?

Who are we fighting against? The common man? The very women and children who are targeted every day?

I find my self in a great dilemma, my very constitution is shaken, the very principles I stand and fight for seem to be have been eroded.

Terrorist attacks in the name of God, a minority community I have fought for, why then do they have to stoop down to killing innocents? Placing bombs in children’s parks in the name of God, is that jihad? Killing children, innocent people is that a holy war?

Why then should I stand for them, why then should I fight their battle? Why then should I not join the right wing and become a Hindu fundamentalist?

I agree that the minority community suffered when LK Advani’s “rath yatra” cut across India, I agree that the minority community suffered when communal violence burnt Gujarat. I agree they suffered but why, why divide this nation along the lines of religion.

Maybe the failures and the problems lie in the very secular fabric we are rather proud of. I have never been a Gandhian, in-fact I hate him, his policies, his very face on the currency I work so hard for. Yes I know its easy to blame him and others for the failures of this nation, the breakdown of the system, but then who do I turn to? I don’t have an answer.

I have lost faith in secularism; I believe that the secular fabric of this nation has been eroded forever.

From Ground Zero

How many more people will die, how many more blasts will rock our country?
Delhi was torn apart by serial blasts (three of them) at the time of the writing of this piece.
Fortunately for me I am safe, but things could have been different I had crossed GK I, one of the sites of the blast barely an hour before the blasts.
It was only when I got home, did I find out about these gory acts of terror.
At this moment I am rather depressed and distressed and I hope and pray that there are no more following blasts.

Just another NGO conference…

Just when you think you can spend your Saturday sitting at home sipping on some gin and tonic, you are asked to attend this NGO conference which frankly wont change nothing.

The only bright side is the food, which might be a decent bite, and the wine that might flow later in the evening.

But at what cost? Having to spend three hours driving to the venue, the heat the humidity.

Anyways so here I am sitting at the back of a rather plush conference hall soaking in the much-needed air conditioning and listening to people talk the same shyte.

I always wonder why NGO’s hold so many meetings? All plush, great food, sometimes even at rather exotic locations. Maybe it’s a scam, a cover up.

While musing on the said issue, there is this incident that comes to my mind, right after the Tsunami rocked the Andaman’s, NGO’s had no idea where to spend the money. March (the end of the budget year) was looming large and the money HAD to be spent. So instead of buying food and shelter for the survivors, the NGO’s ended up buying most of the survivors boats!!!! Beat that, you don’t have food, you don’t have shelter but what you do have are boats, hells yea!!! Great way to save the world.

Whats next?

I finally did it, after threatening to do it for the longest time, this afternoon I stood up and ran screaming out of office for no apparent reason. It was quite a sight and it felt blissfully liberating.

Just me, my legs and the door in sight, I darted for freedom.

Though only to return a few minutes later much to the bewildered expressions of my equally deranged colleagues.

Morning Raga…

Can’t recall the last time I was up this early for no apparent reason. There was, for a change no impending draft that needed to be finalised or some last minute research that needed looking into, instead it was just the dawn and me.

A rising sun, streaks of orange bright and brilliant.

All seemed perfect, till I went back to bed and got late for work…. DAMN !!!

Random Midnight Musing.

If evolution is as constant as change then I do believe I am evolving this very moment. My thoughts, my perceptions, me, are all evolving. Not every evolution is for the best though. Ape to Man being an example.
Life was so much better as an ape I am sure.

Words …

Words are just an expression of what we want others to perceive of us. A thoughtful permutation of letters and thoughts thrown into cauldron, spiced up with some reality.

More reflections…

I agree life is a book with many chapters, some written and some waiting to be written.

Turn the page they say, a new page everyday adds to those chapters they call life.

Every memory, every moment, gone by, a word on a page in the chapter out of the book titled life.

Reflections from the past seems to be the call of the week. I cant help but stop thinking of those million pages I authored.

A Transit visa i dont want.

Its sometimes hard to stop my mind wandering to distant places and thoughts long past.

Its hard not to notice how things have changed, how nothing is the way it used to be. Friends I have known since the day I donned diapers are busy changing diapers of their own offspring’s.

Others are busy filing for divorces while some are planning their weddings.

Most of have lost hair or are still in the process of losing what’s left.

It just aint the same, the concept of late night outs has taken a back seat, no longer do we wait for that midnight snack at a distant railway station. Or a weekend trip to wee hill station.

Booze and dope just aint the way of life anymore, gone are the earrings, the rebel within seems to have been tamed for good.
It’s a part of life or so I am made to believe. But is this what I want.

This is all strange to me, long ago I had promised my self I would never give in to the stereotype way of life, but who was I kidding? I am already in it.

The Buddha lounge seems like a distant past. Mates sitting around a lava lamp getting stoned immaculate is just a memory now

There are no more football trials, hours spent on a field trying to play ball are just reduced to nostalgic moments.

Such is life, you grow up, you get a job, you grow fat, lose hair, own a house, spend all your time trying to fix that house and make a buck ( pappi pet ka sawal hai).

It’s a transition but I aint sure I am ready for it.

I miss the freedom, the rebel without a cause. I do miss the life it once used to be.

Midnight musing

So the day ended or so it seems…its past midnight am home and I still cant snap out of the quasi reflective somewhat rebellious state of mind I found my self in all day.

Have a matter first thing tomorrow morning and I haven’t even read the file, its just not the kind of case I enjoy. Family law, matrimonial disputes, from a pure legal perspective its just down right boring, there is no legal research involved no ‘construing’… its just plain simple merits you fight your case on.

I still need to send a report to the boss, something she was complaining about over lunch, had it been another day I would have sent it to her by tea, but today was different, I instead sat and pretty much gave up on work. I dug deep and found my blog as my solace.

I wonder whats stopping me from letting go of this, is it the comfort zone? Am I too scared of stepping out and finding firmer ground. I wish I had the answers, but right now my bed and my book beckons me..

All I seek…

It wasn’t many moons ago when I used this medium ( read blog) to stay afloat, to fight the sharks that swarmed the very waters I called home. It was a long journey but one that helped me immensely.

Things have changed ever so slightly, all while this summer sets into autumn I am back where it all began searching for the answers ill keep searching as long as I walk this earth, as long as I breathe the putrid air.

Who am I ? and what do I want?

People have come and people have gone, some on their own accord and some by my own misgivings. They have all left their mark some deep enough to be construed as scars which shall stand out for all times to come.

For me, this life over the last two years has been pretty much about me, myself and nothing else. Lost in a sea of shyte I pushed away those who meant a lot , those including my self who mattered.

Its unforgiving how I wade through these tides of time. Slow like a time bomb, an impeding volcano I wait on those moments that shall set me free.

I would rather have my words flow again, be in a space where all is clear, where the mist dissipates and the bluest of blue skies sucks me into its calm abyss.

As I read those posts, those words I couldn’t help but wish things were different, I would give a fortune to run away from this mayhem and stand at the edge of a cliff overlooking the clouds a setting sun and a sea splashed with the colors of the sky.

Liberation is all I seek, freedom is all I wish for, to be in a place where I could be me, where I could be the man I used to be. Where freedom was the way to be.

Paradise encore…

It hasn’t been a day I can write home about, I was dreading this day for the longest time. I was hoping the sun wont rise today but it did and how?
The boss had been away, what bliss, away to attend a funeral and a wedding, life was near peaceful, clear days where the sun shone and the zephyr washed away the sorrows, but just like every day has its night and every beginning has an end, so did this phase.
I lay in bed, eyes wide shut, thoughts of falling ill and death were constant companions but between the twenty minutes I got for my self before I head out to battle, neither did I die or fall ill, what luck!!!!
A few smokes, a cup of black coffee and I was at work, sweating and stressing dreading the inevitable, the slave awaited the masters return.
She walked in while I was sipping on my second cup of coffee. There were no pleasantries exchanged just a list of work which needed to be completed in the next twenty minutes.
All stress and no relief is a constant companion when the boss is around, the associates (read as slaves) dread the return, the presence, it’s a complicated situation, its like treading the valley of death, where the only thing inevitable is the proverbial death itself.
When shall this sun set, when will I be free again. Thoughts of me walking into her chamber with a wee gun and shooting my self, make me happy make me smile.
Will I ever rise against this tyranny?

In the meanwhile…

What’s new in this life they call mine is a relative concept with no solid ground to tread upon, even why I haven’t written for the longest time has no answer… maybe it’s a collusion of factors I have no control over.

The past months were spent setting up my new apartment, my very own pad strewn with van gogh prints and the much-needed air conditioning.

More so the work has been hectic and at times rather frustrating, have spent many an hour planning the impending and hopefully inevitable exit from here, though I don’t see light at the end of this tunnel.

I have reached a stage where I cannot handle the boss and her unreasonable tantrums much longer. I have during the whole process of trying to stay afloat forgotten where I am swimming or who I am, I wake up dreading the days she would be waiting on us at work sharpening her proverbial knives. It’s a rather shyte situation to find myself entwined in.

Gone are the days when I could write at will, with more time on my hands and a comparatively peaceful existence the whole idea and process was a simple collusion of factors enabling me to reduce every moment gone by to words on a piece of paper. However how things change, every word now is an effort its an uphill battle where the summit seems farther away than I can hope or imagine.

Just Me..??!!??

A white shirt tearing at its seems, brown paw marks on the front, a dirty blue jeans and a pair of slippers held together with a safety pin. A stubble from hell and greying wiry hair, its all relative, the way I look has nothing to do with the way I feel, stress and incessant boredom have numbed my existence, I no longer care about my personal appearance, its all subjective to the objective needs of my dishevelled soul.
Its like letting go, a soul trapped set free, to breathe and fly, I sleep only to rise, I eat only to sustain, I smoke to breathe again, its all in the head, its all around, its just me…

Life unplugged…

Sleep is a luxury I cant afford,like a million other pleasures, instead I sit and stare at this screen wondering what I can do to snap out of this abyss, I am just rediscovering music yet again, having deprived my self of this simple pleasure, I hope to embrace it just to find the peace that’s evaded me for the longest time….

This world, this place, this hole is a place I rather not be, not like I have a choice….
This persistent cough refuses to abate, the dog sleeps peacefully, every now catching a glimpse of me, making sure I am around,

Half past one in the morning, I sit my desk at work, unshaven and unruly I seek to find peace, the stale dinner seems to have worked wonders on the overtly sensitive stomach I proudly call mine. This life needs a new meaning, a new beginning, this life needs an overhaul ..a dawn.. a getaway.. and a lot more

Paradise yet again..

2nd April 2008
And the day dawns on me yet again, I wonder why …???...I wish I could spend the whole day in bed, listening to music and musing about life, instead I find my self at my work station sans my glasses, which my dog destroyed while I peacefully slept dreaming about the mountains and juicy steaks… such is life.

Blinded and bugged sipping on coffee that tastes like shyte, I ask my self a millionth time, is this what I had envisaged my life to be, Noel Gallagher croons in my headphones, the nausea coupled with a smokers cough makes my existence far more painful and unbearable.
Maybe I need a vacation, a job change, a new career, I wouldn’t know what it would take for me to snap out of this hole I find my self in, I had thought getting a dog would help my cause but alas I was wrong as usual…

Summer at our doorstep.

The cold abates, the zephyr mellows, soft like linen it caresses your skin, the fog melts away, summer is at our doorstep, sweaty uncomfortable days and torturous nights plagued with mutant mosquitoes stands up and demands attention.

I hate the mere thought of what lies in store, I cant help but hope time stands still, come March and the great Delhi meltdown shall become, like a pot over an unabated fire, Delhi shall boil over.

Mere mortals like me shall suffer, without air conditioning, and always dressed in a black jacket I like millions shall be a victim of the ruthless summer sun.

Lost..

If I who I am is what I have, and what I have is lost? Then who am I? A conundrum nevertheless, a question without an answer, a thought without a process, a minute without a meaning.

The never ending quest of discovering and re discovering leaves you grappling in the dark searching for the soul that seems to have flown away.
Some times it makes me sad though, just to realize that its gone, I have to remind my self that some birds just need to fly.. Their feathers are just too bright.. and when they fly away... the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice.. but still the place you live in is that much more drab and empty when they are gone..

The fountain of life, all confined in a minute…

Most of us spend every minute gone by without as much as giving it a second thought, like a mirage we let it dilute into the oblivion, failing to realize the significance of the minute in question gone by.

For most its just a moment, a moment of utter insignificance never to surface again. However what we do miss in the whole process is the structural value it adds to our lives, every passing minute is like a building block, a moment, that moment which makes us what we are,

Every second, every minute is a stepping stone to what we eventually end up being, a constant changing dynamic structure we call our lives is a result of the minutes we have seen pass us by.

Just another day in paradise...

14th February

My feet were freezing, I lay cuddled on the driver's seat of my car, the day had dawned on me, and I had spent the night sleeping in my car, there was no particular reason for this blatant act of madness, it was sheer exhaustion coupled with nights of no sleep, which lead me to this drastic act of self torture.
The last few days have been as hectic as they come, a short trip to the west coast, hundreds of client meetings, a quasi verbal brawl with the Chief Justice, in all a superlative exciting package, and somewhere along the line it burned me down.

So there I was this morning, fresh from a night in my car, tired as hell, drained, life felt like it had it been run over by a freight train.
Am back at work, drained but alive, trying to get some useless research done, replying to the hundreds of legal opinions the boss needs.
From my vantage point I can see the boss sitting in a meeting with a couple of associates and I am so glad it aint me this time, every meeting with her is like walking barefoot on hot coal. And if it aint the coal it’s the dog, yes the wee dog, who loves snapping at you when the boss is around. Its funny how you have to work around the dog when you are briefing the boss. The dog sits at this vantage point on her desk right around all the files you need, and she just loves biting your fingers off every time you try and touch any of those files, so in all… it can be construed as fun.

This day shall roll on too, though all I can think of is my bed back home which patiently awaits my sorry arse… Evening come fast….

This is my Jehad….

This is my Jehad, this is my (un) holy war, this is my life, where I wake up to reality and wonder, why the world spins the way it does, riddled by hate, blood and deceit the world around me is tearing at its seams.

The nest I hide in, is my safe haven, but the minute I step out I can sense the rage, the anger, I can smell the pain, the poor suffering, children starving, begging, being forced into labor, everywhere I go, everywhere I look, I find emptiness, I find the essence of humanity being trampled by the reality of our existence.

It is sad that my Jehad is a selfish battle where I cant give anyone but my self happiness, I am alone yet surrounded by those who rubbish my claims and those who stand by me.

I cant stand and watch these blatant acts of self destruction, Kidney kingpins, overtly sensitive lawyers who cant watch to people share something as beautiful as a kiss, a leader who aims to tear the secular seam of this country, who threatens to treat humans from a different part of the same country as dust and dirt, I cant face to stand my fellow countrymen re- electing leaders who washed their hands in the blood of thousands of innocent Muslims.
This is my life, this is our reality, we are all surrounded by this filth, this is my Jehad.

The World Spins Madly On.

Every now and then I wake up and realize the world I knew, had moved on, it had changed, not sure about the good bit.. but it had changed aright, friends were either dead or married, not sure which one’s worse though.

I, on the other hand, still sit at my study, trying hard to appease the savior within.

It aint helping, frankly everything is moving too fast for my own good, am I losing touch with reality? I wouldn’t know, an answer I might not have.

Tuesday this week…


Another week gone by, one less week to live (the eternal pessimist within jumps with joy).. the cold is near bone chilling and I am loving every bit of it, dressed like a tramp I pass my days in sheer delight, summer is only a month away and the thought of it makes me wanna die.

Delhi summers for most who have never experienced it, is straight out of a microwave, dry, bone burning heat, coupled with frequent power cuts and genetically mutated mosquitoes from hell, and makes life less worth living.
If only I was the weather God, I would delete summer from my weather system altogether.
I am back at work on a useless Tuesday afternoon, and lunch is a few minutes away, Van Gogh and Michael Angelo (my two Siamese fighter fish, look as bored as I do). The apple snails munch on some carrot and a lettuce leaf, life in this workstation has never been this dull.

The only thing smiling here is the picture of Mahmoud (10, a rag picker in West Bank), I often stare at him, surrounded by trash, dressed in rags and throwing a priceless toothy smile back. I don’t know him and probably never will, but in a strange way he gives me hope…

21st January ...

Another moment of madness...

Construe this as a moment of madness, a moment where time stood still, faceless and empty like the thoughts in my head, a moment I thought would be my last, flashbulbs and cameras, social activists, Supreme Court lawyers and hundreds of journalists packed in room with a woman, a victim of rape and genocide in the midst of it all…

Dressed in a brown quasi overcoat acting like a shadow and consultant to my boss, I stood there taking it all in, slow.. the pain the woman had gone through, the struggle for justice and the eventual victory in our struggle towards achieving the impossible.

It was then that it struck me, more like an image in my head, a booming sound, earth shattering and painful engulfing the room, it could have been our end had it not been in my head, but I pictured it, laying numb in one corner breathing my last, numb and disillusioned from the blast that could have ripped the room, I am not intuitive (thankfully) .. but I felt it.

For all those we stand up against, men in power who hate us for hating them for the murders and rapes they shamelessly committed and supported, this could have been an opportunity to get rid of all of us in one effortless go.

With no metal detectors, not a single security personal this could have and would have been the easiest way to target the civil society activists who have raised their voices time and again against the tyrannical and barbaric genocidal rule of the few we oppose.
Thankfully it was all in my head, I survived this and so did the hundreds with me, but for how long is a question I rather not have an answer for.

Egg Curry and Justice- A scary dichotomy

Guess there is only one way around this, I need to dig deep and start aiming at posting things on a daily basis. (aiming for the stars am I?), but anyways there is no harm giving it a shot.

15th Jan 08,

Another day gone by, spent at the Supreme Court, wondering if this is what I wanted from life, a constant duel, the never ending bickering.... the bohemian pot smoking me feels all deprived and ignored.

Black coats, a whole hoard of judges with inflated egos and accents from hell, (half my time is spent deciphering their distorted speech).
I cant seem to get the thought of quitting this and moving to the mountains to smoke some pot and farm some apples out of my head.
But anyways I passed out at Court yet again, sweet dreamy sleep engulfed me, where I even dreamt of hitting Brett Lee for a six ....was a welcome change from watching and hearing a senior counsel argue why coal mining in West Bengal needs to be stopped, or where a bunch of Indian Sadhus stormed into the court room waiting for the much awaited judgment on whether Ram the Indian God actually existed. ( I am not sure if the US supreme court has ever been moved on the issue of the existence of Jesus Christ). Anyways keeping with the trend of the Indian Legal System both the matters were adjourned…( ever wondered why it takes litigants in India years to see light at the end of the tunnel)


Back at work, the boss was screaming at the court clerk and a client, the weather seemed cloudy but far from stormy ( the weather reports entail the mood of the boss… )
Hours went by… researching… drafting.. more researching… some more drafting and re drafting when I finally decided to take a break…

Was sitting with T taking a break over a cup o' terrible milky tea and discussing my day at the court with the new interns, who were letting one and all know how I passed out while waiting for my matter to come up on board and the conversation settled on the intricacies of how afternoons are spent in court rooms, where judges and lawyers 'like, fight and dig deep to stay awake but fail miserably, the soft snore , the droopy eyes and dropping heads are a common sight.
It was then that it struck us ( T, I give you full credit here), how the lives and the justice of this country rests in the hands of a bunch of sleepy men, who have stuffed their faces with the only edible ‘thing’ available at the Supreme Court cafeteria – the egg curry.

Out of the shell…? Almost

A three month hiatus, and I still cant write…its all in the head and its all screwed up, suppression seems to be a thing of the past, the me within is beginning to rebel, signs of rebellion loom large over the horizon, endless hours of staring at my fish are finally paying dividends. There is anger, a dormant volcano is about to explode, unleash hell, wrath and more. This should be fun.
Gone are the days when words would flow like an ocean breeze, where everything around it had a word attached to it.. gone are the times when living everyday was a reason to write, to share…. Ominous signs? Maybe.. I cant be sure… But it might all change..

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.

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…

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…

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…

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.

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.