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Monday, 17 March 2014

And Just How Dumb Is That...

Lok Sabha elections are coming up. Exiting times. I, like most of the readers of this post, have made my mind up as to who I would like to see lead the current. I am a semi-informed electorate, thanks to the media and am easily swayed by the populist propaganda of the various political entities and their allies in the media.
I personally like the loud ones, the ones with trigger happy tongues, the ones for whom I can genuinely feel sorry for. I really don’t care how the next five years for the nation are going to be or how will our standings be in 2019 in the various world indices, for I only care about how close my predictions get so that I can boast about it. I wonder if bookies are interested in elections as well, because if they are, many of us can be rich men.
What I love about our elections is that the parties contesting elections, like to keep their manifestos closed to their chest. They never tell us what they intend to do once they are in power, how, and what groundwork they have done to achieve that. Plus the mathematics, the probability, the uncertainty, the permutation and combination to reach a number, I must say, it is kinda’ hot. Elections are just the appetizer, the mouth-watering main-course is the post result ceremonial formation of the most unlikely alliances and coalitions. I as a spectator jump on my seat spilling the popcorn tub all over the next guy’s back and scream to myself, ”Oh boy, not him.”  The dessert doesn’t come until before the next general elections when the ruling party is desperate and starts giving away sops. YippeeJ right?
I admire it when the contenders shy away eloquently from stating their stand on higher education, taxation policies, debt ceiling and other such subtle but critical concepts. The media doesn’t care and the responsible ones are far too less watched to care. Print media is on its way to dumps and the digital media too is not entirely fair. The social media is dynamic but leaves out room for too many vague conspiracy theorists.

Honestly, it doesn’t really bother me. Politics serves me as a sports interest, thoroughly entertaining, has the x-factor and at the end of the day, I go to my bed unperturbed by the form, or the performance of my favourite team or who the signed players are for the current season or the next one. It doesn’t bother me because I know and have seen things and learnt to keep my expectations in check. I am a middle class person and realize that inflation is inevitable, it would be unfair of me to demand gas at a price that I used to pay the previous year. Since I am a middle class man, I won’t pay taxes, for I know they only go for the oversized fish. Change too is inevitable. So many countries had cool stuff like missiles, liberalization policies, metro trains, naval carriers, etc. it was only a matter of time that we had them too, it’s only coincidental that we know a Kalam or a Manmohan Singh and their legacies. Good things more than bad, are going to happen, the market won’t let us deviate. Someone or other will be the face of the change and enjoy the stardom of his legacy.The leader of this nation only needs to do one thing, not to screw up. He needs to follow the trend and make sure he isn’t too behind four or five countries. For better, we need to have a Sachin Tendulkar in Politics too. 

Sunday, 25 November 2012

Jungle

The wolf is lone because he doesn't have a choice. And its probably the choices that he didn't have made him a wolf in the first place, he probably didn't choose to have those choices. Being hunted down isn't a luxury, its a survival mode. Some, supposedly the smarter ones, join a pack, or as the evolved ones call it, a team, driven by a common goal, a common trail. They survive alright, but where's the fun?

The lone one is not necessarily a loser(another evolved term), he just doesn't fit in, nor is he a wolf all time. The key is to understand why he doesn't fit in. May be because he is not supposed to. May be he is supposed to stand out or may be his mediocrity has reservations in oblivion.  He doesn't know it until he does. The key is not to give a shit about the pack, they never did. They would sure have an inductive circle around, tempting at times, showing him the light and the glory. Choices he has, ahh... who are we kidding, none!!!! Why do you think you were not them in the first place!!

So, what does one do? He knows he doesn't belong there, he never has or could. The naive ones change the territories, looking for acceptance, salvation. What makes him lone doesn't always make him a wolf. Survival is a way tougher job being lone than being in a pack. What he does is find ways, if not, makes them. Some of them who can't, fall prey to the cruelty of the paradigms around. They often console themselves by turning away from the reality, expected of the weaker ones. The stronger ones tell themselves the same, but often are smart enough to realize otherwise.

He tells himself that he can, he expresses, and he does. If can't, he bleeds his paws to bones scratching the rock until he hits gold. They call him names, declare him an outcast and a misfit, but its the pack that bows down to him at the end of the day.

He knows he is a wolf and he does not need a pack. He may be too scarred or aggressive to have one. He chooses to be a predator over a survivor. He doesn't want to be a leader or bring about change. He often has absolutely nothing against the way things work around. He doesn't give a fifth of a rat's ass. However he inspires change, at times, attitude, among the ones who want better.

They like him, they hate his balls, but they all realize he has some. They all want to be him, though would chose to declare otherwise. And its the strength of their emotions that drives him. He might not know at times what he is, but he definitely knows what he is not and that is being one of them, he never could, he is a different breed. He comes, he roars, he dictates....

Friday, 30 September 2011

I survive, Its what I do, Its a curse...

"I see you coming, indeed it is you! It can't be anyone else. How long have I waited for this moment", said the sea to the sooth of my bruises, "And what is it that you hold!!! Is that your shield??".


The sea was no different after it dissolved my blood in it, still olive, stern. What has become of me? They call me a poet, a warrior...I asked for none of this. Here I am, the sea flushing my wounds, the breeze cushioning my back. "Who are you?", I ask. "I am your mother, son...", I can not make out between the waves and my nonrhythmic pulses. My senses are sharp as an arrow, only sharpened by the blows. There is something that rushes into me, what is it? Is it the the chill of the sea or am I still alive.



All I hear is a summon, there is panacea herself. She looks decent, all white, long silky hair. Had I not known better, I would say she really knew a good tailor. But its not her. The clinks of my sword, squeals of those who fought with and against me, the trumpet, where did they all go? I do not know what hit me, I vouched some magnificent blows, I fell to some ridiculous lines, I saw midgets rise and lions fall. They sing about my glory, honor. This hurts my ear. Oh the songs, how much do I want you to cease! This is no glory, certainly no honor. I have been fighting so long, even lost track of the cause.

I can't differ between my sweat and blood, they all taste the same. Or are they my tears, this can't be right, I am not supposed to have tears. They roll down, trying to make sense. My feet are swollen. I am trying hard, perhaps too hard, the only words my ears beat are NO, NOT NOW, NOT TODAY!!!

The sea looks pale, weak, thirsty, drowning, reaching for me, the desperate waves shower me, I am filthy no more. My tears have reached my lips, it tastes the same as its predecessors. I spit, I rise, my lungs burst.... they know who is coming for them! I can feel their throats drying, their spine chilling!! I cant feel feel my roar, my leap, all I feel is the rhythm, which said, NOT NOW, NOT TODAY!!!!!!!!! 

Tuesday, 17 May 2011

And... he goes Interntional

"Kya bolta hai?!! Jaayen ki light le len", I asked my friend, Nitin. He replied in a plane indiffernce,"Humse kya pooch rha hai, man hai to jao!!". "Tumko kaisi lag rhi hai?", I tried little hard to not to sound excited. "Bhai.. humko to sab gori sahi lagti hai", and I joined him in his evil giggle.

May 13th, 2011 :
The AT compre was an utter disappointment. Adding to my miseries was the waiting list ticket, which was the consolation prize for standing in the reservation queue for more than a lifetime, or this was what I made of it. Stephi came to bid me adieu to the campus gate and loaded me with a plethora of instructions as a responsible guardian would. A passenger in the waiting list, afraid to grab a birth, felt like an ostracized con. Thankfully I met Waghmode and  Gudge in the same coach. We chatted on some un-Masrin-ly topics. Then out of the window I saw this firangi lass. I said to Gudge, "Dekh, tere liye import karwayen hain!!! Pakka yehin aa k baithegi!!!" We were bestowed upon by some trademark Gudge chuckles. And guess what, there she was on the next birth to him.

She was the center of our next 30 mins talks. To my disappointment, she left and walked away to sit at the door of the next coach. Then I saw Nitin who was in the next coach and greeted each other. He sat with for sometime and went back to his coach. I cared to peek outside the window, and there it was, the majestic DOODH-SAGAR. Well not so majestic at this time of the year, reduced to a much thinner spring. I went to Nitin's coach and stood at the door opposite to the one where she sat.

"Hi... Pleased to meet you!!! I am Hannah !!", she replied after my polite gesture of interest. What was next, I was sitting next to her at the door and for the first time in my life did I hear a place called "Slovenia", which was where she was from. She was having the door all to herself and I was in the safer zone. She was a very pleasant break from the last fort-pigdung-night. After seeing off Gudge at Belgam station, I asked her for a walk and she agreed.

Why wasn't I feeling strange, why didn't I shiver, and why the hell didn't my hormones come into play, either I was to dumb to realize what I had with me, or too matured to overreact. Come Daund junction where we would get down again, and I didn't understand what she appreciated about the dusk clouds. She miserably failed to make me understand their patterns, but I didn't let her realize that. Yes, you got me there, I can fake to be an awesome listener. Many of the AC guys got down too.  One of them asked,"Isko kahaan se utha liye?", and i replied,"Bas, yun hi, chalte chalte !!!" And they were like OO-MM-GG. Yes... I know how it feels like.

I introduced her to Waghmode and Neelesh. She had to get off at Pune station where her boyfriend would receive her. Of couse she had one. I could tell that she was a junkie, and she did nothing fancy  to keep the fact in wraps. We shared our smoking habits and accidentally I said,"Occasionally I smoke pot a lot!!!" and she broke into chuckles. Sometimes, it does help to  make a duffer out of yourself when you have your arms around a hot pink neck.

And boy oh boy, didn't it feel awesome when some pretty young catholics peeped from their respective births and some local men and vendors threw cheap smiles at us. "Its Schki.....", she said after being asked her second name. Emmm...definitely a tounguetwister. She had her hair tangled like a tough knot of ropes, young and foolish. She asked me and Waghnode to poke her up before the arrival  of Pune. I couldn't help but but to stay awake till 3 o'clock. He was already awake and so I asked him to wake me up at 3:45 AM.

And a like a loyal friend that he was, he did so. I paid a visit to the washroom and set my hair, came back and   carefully patted at her shoulder and her eyebrows raised, lips widened and she greeted me one of my best mornings. I helped her get her bag down. We three were the last from our coach to deboard. She had my name and mail and she said she would add me as her facebook friend. I asked Waghmode to help her out in finding her boyfriend. I thought I would giver her a hug but hesitated, may be she was smart or even she wanted to hug me, we finally had a hug. Emmmm-hmmmm....nothing special, hormones still fast asleep. She kissed me on my cheek. That was something, I jumped in my imaginary plane, and Waghmode stood there pretending to be unpurturbed. I have her smoking lighter as a souvenir.

Well that's pretty much it. I with my bag went to Nitin's coach and slept in peace, waiting to share this with you guys.

NOTE :all the characters and places in the blog are real and I haven't yet received a friend request from Hannah.......

Thursday, 14 April 2011

Mechanics of life

Here I share a conversation with the phenomenal,  "Akshat Tiwary".
 
akshatsimba: kya ho raha hai masrin?
akshatsimba: the gud, the bad and the ugly= http://black-benchers.blogspot.com/2011/04/good-bad-and-ugly.html
mayank: kuch nhi
akshatsimba: badi der se onl9 ho
mayank: intezaar kr rhe the tumhare ping ka :)
Sent at 2:52 AM on Friday
akshatsimba: waah
intezaar pura ho gaya ab to
mayank: m overwhelmed
akshatsimba: aajkal bade shaant rehne lage ho
aur akele ghoomte rehte ho
sab thik?
mayank: bheed me tanha....sab nhi hote
akshatsimba: tanhayi ka karan?
mayank: bas yun hi....
akshatsimba: waise tanha har koi hota hai
bas unhe pata nahi chalta
mayank: parayon me sage dhoond kar thak chuke....
apne ahteraam me baag nhi lagana aata hame
akshatsimba: sage logon mein paraye mil jaate hain
bt not d othr way round
mayank: aksar...
bas...patthar par patak rhe hain sar...kahin koi boond nikal jaaye
akshatsimba: saala sutta badi ajib se cheez hai
andar ka sab bahar nikal kar le aati hai
mayank: hhahaha...
hum to tumhari pehli kash se hi mana kar rhe the
akshatsimba: humne ye thodi kaha ki buri cheez hai
balki ek doosri nazar se duniya dikhai deti hai
mayank: tumhari ankhon se neend kyun gair-maujood hai abhi?
akshatsimba: pata nahi
mayank: hmm...
akshatsimba: aaj man nahi kar raha
mayank: ishq wishk to nhi ho gya pyare?
akshatsimba: ishq mere jaiso k liye nahi hota dost
mayank: duhh...
akshatsimba: woh unke liye hai jo jhoot bolne mein maahir hote hain
mayank: ahhaaa....
akshatsimba: humare to mazak ko bhi log sach maan lete hain
mayank: jo jhoot bolte hain unhe ishq nhi hota...
infatuation...
tharak...
ishk to paak hota hai...
akshatsimba: phir to ab tak hua nahi
aur shayad kabhi hoga bhi nahi
mayank: hmm...
akshatsimba: tum batao
kaise jaag rahe ho ab tak?
mayank: bhai ...maut aur ishq kab ho jaaye koi nhi jaanta...
rhi meri baat...tabiyat thodi kharab hai...
neend nhi aa rhi
akshatsimba: kya hua?
fever?\
mayank: halka sa...deh dard kar rha hai...
patla mal visarjan
akshatsimba: pate kharab ho gaya
so jao
mayank: :)
akshatsimba: subah tak thik ho jayega
mayank: dekho...dawa to liye hain....
akshatsimba: ek baat nahi samajh aati
saala jaisa socha tha waisa hota kyun nahi
socha tha college mein sab kuch seekhenge
mayank: variable parameters of life hain dost...
akshatsimba: to phir constant kya hai?
mayank: change
badlaw...
aaj hans rhe ho...
akshatsimba: ab change he hote rahenge ya phir kabhi stability bhi milegi
mayank: kal shayad na hanso
change ko tum stabilize nhi kar skte....
akshatsimba: 2 saal mein shayad ke kabhi khulkar hanse honge
mayank: rate of change ko kaaboo kar skte ho
hahaha....
akshatsimba: ye saala college he ulta hai
mayank: tumhari un khaufnak attahaason ne abhi tak royen khade rkhe hain hamare
hmm...
akshatsimba: yahan sab ulta he hota hai
koi saala kisika saga nahi hai
mayank: hum shayad tumhari baat nhi samajh rhe hain...
par dost...sabse bada anaesthetic to ye hai k keep ur expectations in check...
akshatsimba: i expect nothing from ne1
jst from myslf
mayank: have ur moments....
akshatsimba: socha tha goa mein aakar badhiya se jindagi jiyenge
par yahan koi saala khush rehna he nahi chahta
mayank: khud se bhi kyun....paani ho, disha to pahaadon me bhi dhoond lete ho
akshatsimba: par disha to mil nahi rahi
samajh nahi aata yahan pe kya karein
mayank: hmm...
agar meri suno to always try to feel gud bout urself...
behtar maano khud ko...
yaar hame mard aise thode hi khte hain....
akshatsimba: Wagon workshop, Jhansi
akshatsimba: the gud, the bad and the ugly= http://black-benchers.blogspot.com/2011/04/good-bad-and-ugly.html
mayank: adapt...improvise
akshatsimba: abhi tak to zero level par he hain
mayank: kaun sa zero....??
akshatsimba: zero in achievemnets
zero in happiness
mayank: hahahaha....
akshatsimba: aur zero incstudies :P
chalo tum aaram karo
mayank: tum funny ho...iq bhi mast hai....bandi aur naukari bhi shi milegi
tumse kahin zaada log thuke baithe hain....
akshatsimba: bandi aur naukri sab kuch thodi hota hai
mayank: xactly...
ngo me kaam karo....
akshatsimba: sabse badi cheez hai ki humein khushi mile jo bhi hum karein usme
mayank: start ur own firm...
akshatsimba: sach baat to ye hai ki khali baithe thak chuke hain
mayank: apni sharton pe jo krna hai karo
never give up...mauke aayenge....
kabhi tum dubara mayus hoge....
hum shayad nhi honge...koi aur hoga....
apne banate chalo...
akshatsimba: hmm
mayank: dis is too many pcm talkin
:P
akshatsimba: hahahahaha
chalo ab chala jaye
aaram karo
mayank: chalo dost....
achha laga....
gn
akshatsimba: gn :D
Sent at 3:15 AM on Friday

Tuesday, 15 March 2011

All I offered but my smile


I shared a drink with Satan this dusk. All dressed in black, he asked in cold and the loudest possible whisper one can imagine, yet beyond mortal comprehension,"Are you the one?". I smelled a flavor of desperate agitation, those hollow eyes revealed more than they toiled to obliterate. Has the curse of time taken its toll over him? Is he getting human? Is his darkness greying; or has he heard of the legends of the entity walking the earth with even greater caliginosity!

"The one?", asked I in plane manner having a sip. The dark one did not portray any emotion, he didn't have any. He gave my goblet a glare and the wine turned black. He looked into my eyes, tried to sense a commotion in me to satisfy his manoeuver. Those eyes would suck the soul off a man with even the might of Hercules. All I gave him but my smile. "I need you to be the one".

If only I were a human, would laugh. Does this mean that he is obliviating? I am young, I am raw, I am uncorrupted. "I need you to be the heir to my throne", one could not sense the desperation in his voice,"I have done what I needed to for millennia, its your turn now !". What would he do next, was he a kid seeking permission to play outside, certainly not. He was dead serious.

"No", I was calm, the dark potion was almost over, "Sin is a concept. It gets over with you. You didn't give them what wasn't there already. You, my friend, were just a manager.". His brows shrunk, "I....I am the new phenomenon. I shall give them what they never had!", my voice still remained calm but stronger, "You dwelt on pathetic measures of poverty, hunger,greed...and thought you were good", I rose, "and you were until me". "You filthy being!!! You are a parasite on my earth, feeding on what I spread", he was furious, his eyes turned darker than the wine, "How dare you say such words...You shall burn in my backyard".

"You need to quit or your words are tempting enough for me to make you..!!". Without a warning a fire turbulated from his mouth and consumed me. He took pride in his endeavour until he saw the most petrifying figure walking out of the inferno. I stretched my arms and touched him, his undying screams  echoed the universes. The comets and galaxies witnessed me swallow him.

They take a sigh of relief!!! Poor, clueless beings of the might...they don't know what awaits them.

Sunday, 27 February 2011

The First One...

Vivek Sir said, "Humko pura bharosa hai Mayank par", and the class erupted into giggles. This was the result of the series of stupid answers I produced in the Physics class. I am talking about my FIITJEE days. There was but one smile which stood out in the sadistic realm of reckless laughters; the very innocent, sweet yet mischievous one, it was hers.

18 June 2007. After a long wait after my matriculations, the sessions for class 11th  finally began. Excited as I was, I browsed through the faces in the class. Some of them were new but none fresher than hers. Economics section didn't have the reputation of procuring the best looks of the school, she was no exception. Average IQ, hard working, sweet and low pitched voice, were more than enough to cast the spell on me. We happened to sit together in the class. I also was lucky to have her in my batch (supposed to be the best one) at FIITJEE. We shared books, numericals and glances.

I was happy, kept smiling for no reasons, the hindi songs had suddenly started making sense, some of them felt to be tailor-made. I would miss out on no opportunity to impress her, in ways more than one. Then followed the series of maverick trips to the City Centre. Come August 5, when I was introduced to the concept of Friendship Day.

I don't recollect a harder thought process than that which ran into my conscience the very evening. I consulted some of my supposedly "cool" friends, yet did not come out with anything good. The play of despair was beautifully protagonised by me until I had this crazy idea. This still tops the list of stupidest things I've ever done. Next morning I left from my home early, went to a stationary shop which also used to be a hangout place for us Dipsites. I got a Cadburry Crackle, a peacock feather and a card.  

I waited for her to arrive, as she would, surrounded by too many girls. I preferred patience over stupidity. Four classes passed, I still didn't have proper opening. Driven by desperation and despair, I waited, went to the washroom at least six times, some visits were to bring down the pressure, while others to rehearse  the lines.

The last bell rang. I asked her to stop until the room was almost empty. I never felt a noise louder than the ones my heart muscles made. Wet in sweat and petrified, I asked her to follow me. She shot some questions, I replied vaguely. I was mortified and had no idea where to take her. I took her to the library, found a corner which according to me was least alienated. With my heart beating like drums, I extended the the card, the chocolate and the feather.

And oh boy, wasn't it the most rewarding moment of my life when I saw a pristine smile float across her lips that said, "Thank you and same to you!!!". We shook hands and exchanged numbers.

Friends, this was the last time I felt her warmth, a touch, more delicate than the talc itself.