Thursday, April 26, 2007

I hate...

I hate the person who made this blog

I hate the frog living in bingle bog

I hate the IT Dept for blocking every site

I hate the heat of the summer night

I hate the canteen guy for his nasty looks.

I hate the geek who always reads books.

I hate the auto-driver for looting me

I hate all those who like saluting me

I hate the dusk, I hate the dawn

I hate all those addicted to porn.

I hate my subjects I hate them all

I hate the fact that I’m not tall.

I hate my hair that’s way too long

I hate to lose in ping – pong.

I hate the guy who bangs my door

I hate the bugs all over the floor.

I hate all these, I hate more too.

But most of all, I hate you.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Vodka Vodka Everywhere...

I know, I know I’m being a Late Latif but I was too lazy to write it all in one day and was too caught up in the moment to let go of it… But it’s finally done and I owe this to my seniors and My Friends… Kokil for asking me to write this, Harshal, Mayank Raina, Hakim and all the Mechanchis for making sure I didn’t go off to sleep on the road that night and last but definitely not the least, Maansi and Yajnika for staying in my brain and keeping me sane...

Here is the itinerary of the events that took place on the night of the 29th of March 2007.

8pm – Arrival at Silvers Noodle Bar

930 pm – Formal Intro

10pm – Party Finally Starts

1030pm – Booze Starts

1130 pm – Halfway between the Gutter and the Stars

Midnight – Snoring in the room of my hostel

Now I give you all that in a few more words…

Walking on the road to my hostel, my colleagues buzzed about like females discussing gossip. There was a nerve of excitement in every person as I passed them by, the same anxious and nervous look in their faces. It all made sense, it was ‘Fresher’ Season and we were the ones who were going to get our asses on fire on that fateful night. Well actually, we all had had a taste of things to come, being called at wee hours in the night to the seniors’ hostel for a ‘formal introduction’ made us quite familiar with our seniors and we were able to test ourselves to the limit, not realizing of all the hidden skills and feelings we had stored within ourselves for so many years… That being another story to tell, I come back to the present. I started asking myself, “What was so special in this fresher party?” I found answering myself “This is a MECHANICAL fresher, there are not going to be any girls around, instead there will be booze and loads of it”… The dams will break and the testosterone will flow like a river, and I shall be swept away with everything else…Before I had realized it, I was talking to myself again and now everyone was staring at me, wondering whether I had started drinking a little too early or not. I stopped talking thereon, and quietly crept into my room and fell into the comfort of my steel bed, the fresher was far away, in a distant land where elves rode on horses and little leprechauns danced along to “My Heart Will Go On”… Suddenly I was woken by a message on my primitive phone, it read, “Cn i brw ur tie fr d frshr?”. Making out the word ‘tie’ I got the idea, somehow the word had spread that I was the sole owner of a wardrobe of ties in our hostel.

I guess it was time for me to get ready. A quick shave, a borrowed coat and a spray of perfume, I was ready for a night out. Before this night, I had never been exposed to alcohol without the supervision of my parents. Tonight I had the liberty to drink what I want, when I want and with whom I want, I was in college… Life was good. But I chose to stick to the sober side tonight, I wanted this night to last as long as possible. Till today, I had gulped beer like a lost gambler in a bar, I had tasted wine like the rich and snobbish aristocrats of today and I had sipped on a Breezer like a 40 year old aunty who wanted to get ‘high’. Everyone had told me that I would love Vodka and that’s what my motive was tonight, to get a taste of that white, tasteless liquid. In my red and black color combination, I climbed into the ever so contrasting blue auto and told the driver, “ To our destiny !”, or in other words, “Silvers – Noodle Bar”.

We all had been given homework which had to be submitted tonight. The seniors had assigned each ‘fachcha’ a senior and we had to dig forgotten graves and storm dusty cupboards to find out as much as we can about them (Scandalous information was preferable). My senior was Saurabh Chopra and I had taken the help of my oh-so-loving full moon – Hakim, to get the formal details. I took the responsibility of adding the sugar and spice to the rest. Throughout my entire journey I went over my lines over and over again, making sure that I don’t mess up. Little did I know how much ‘messing up’ I was about to do.

As we arrived there, I was greeted by the seniors with handshakes and Welcomes, but rather than looking at the seniors and reciprocating with a smile which neither showed happiness nor sadness, I was gazing at the bouncer at the main door… He/It looked to be a mixed breed of some sort. If a question was ever asked, “What do you get if you cross a Gorilla with Simon Cowell’s wardrobe ?” This monstrosity standing in front of me would be the answer.

More greetings were followed inside the dimly lit basement where I noticed with utter surprise the attire of the people around me. Although we ‘first-years’ were dressed for the occasion, I was conspicuous about our seniors. I saw some of them in casuals but others followed and they were in bermudas, others in shorts and people even came in Kurtas and Pyjamas! But in the end I realized, what were we all dressed for? There aren’t going to be aunties pulling our cheeks, telling us how cute we looked or uncles commenting on how smart we look. Most importantly, there were no girls who will get a starry-eyed look on their faces seeing us in suit-boot. I felt like an ass.

The processions began finally after making everyone sit down like little children in kindergarten. First came the senior intros and we were made to sit in one dark corner while our seniors roared with laughter listening to the weird info that we all had come up with. The minutes passed by as each junior was called up and boredom was creeping on to me. My yawns were starting and I really wasn’t expecting this from such a hyped-about party. I must have really let out a loud one because the next name up was mine. Suddenly, the weariness and sleepiness disappeared into thin air, all eyes were on me now. I broke a sweat and my legs were shaking with the adrenalin. It was prep school all over again. I had been asked to stand up in front of the entire class and recite the alphabet. The same feelings ran through me back then as they were now. After I was finally done with …X,Y,Z, the teacher has asked me, “Oh dear, you did very well but what happened to P ?” I replied to her query by saying, “Its running down my pants ma’am”…

I was back in the basement, checking if I hadn’t wet myself yet… As I took the microphone from Mayank Raina, my mind was blank, I tried remembering my lines but to no avail… I started with what I had heard from Hakim, the usual member of _____ club, rides a _____, owns a ______. Soon and inevitably enough, the boos and hisses began. This was going nowhere. I thought to my self and decided that there was only one way out of this, switch over to the other side. My homo personality always got me out of a sticky situation and it was able to do so. Comments on his ‘assets’ and comparing them to mine turned out to be a riot. I decided to finally end it and so I topped it off with a song. I sang out “Hero” by Enrique Eglesias out to him from the bottom of my heart and turned clay into stone.

A sigh of relief and a monkey off my back, I could now enjoy the party peacefully. Once the intros were finally over, the atmosphere livened up, the dust rose from the walls and the lights were flashing everywhere, the music had had turned on and it was time to dance! I wasted no time in lazing around and I jumped on to the dance floor. Frankly speaking, I didn’t know squat about dancing, my way of dancing was to keep shaking and shaking, making weird movements till people start admiring it instead of ignoring it. I chose to do the same here. After all, we were mechanchis, we had no grace, we had no style, we had every reason to smile.

All that dancing had made me thirsty, I needed a drink. There was water, there was coke but I chose what I had come here for, Vodka. When it came to terms regarding alcohol, I was worse than an illiterate. I went up to the bartender and told him, “One glass vodka”. The bartender was confused, in two minds he wondered whether he should entertain my request or correct me. To save the day came my friend who told the bartender what to do. I ended up with a peg of vodka mixed with coke. Being cautious at first, I started taking sips from the glass. I looked like a 90 year old learning how to drink soup. I was here with my first glass and there were those who had lost count by now. One of them was Hakim who was flat by the time I had finished my glass. He was lead out by his mates and I never heard from him for the rest of the night. On finishing the glass, I still didn’t feel much, I could hear everything, talk sense and walk straight… I guess one glass wasn’t enough. I went up to the bartender to ask for the same but came through a friend who had had way too much for one night, he told me to have a drink with him. Looking at my nonplussed look he gave me the glass which contained only vodka without any coke. He shouted out “Bottoms Up !” and gulped down the liquid as if it were water. He was still looking at my glass, looked like he wanted mine as well. He told me to go on, and with my fingers crossed and eyes closed, I swallowed it. What followed was no less than a torture. The liquid inflamed my throat and I felt like I had just swallowed a bottle of Vicks Vapo Rub. It took me time to recover from the shock but I was surprised to know that I could still count the fingers on my hand. There was still more work to be done…

The trips to the bar increased and now I was even trying my hand at whiskey. I was still able to talk straight and walk a little straight. I was just waiting for the point when I would start talking gibberish and start cackling like a chicken. It didn’t take so long during the movies There was an instance when I went over to the bar, took a peg of vodka, asked the bartender to put some coke. I had no idea how much alcohol he had taken because he ended up filling my entire glass with vodka! But I wasn’t troubled, I drank it all down, draining it to the last drop. … The music went on and so did the dancing, holding a glass in one hand and a camera in the other, I went on a photo-shooting spree, clicking everyone and anyone that I could get in between my lens. The ruddy DJ couldn’t stop playing the Punjabi numbers which I was pretty sick by now and so decided to stop dancing and look for a person to accompany me to the bar. Harshal had finally noticed my state and decided it was high time I stopped for the night. He took me to one corner of the basement and forced me not to have anymore for the night. I on the other hand still felt that I wasn’t drunk and wanted to have more. On hearing this, his face turned stern and his eyes grew narrower “ I am going to call up Yajnika Ma’am and let her know what you have been up to.” Those words had done the magic. Hearing her name had suddenly brought me back to my senses, I couldn’t let her see me in such a state, she would give me such firing… I wanted to get all this alcohol out of me, I think my night was over. As Harshal dragged me into the toilet, he put my head next to the wall and kept on telling me, “Let it all out” and that’s exactly what I did. I let it all out…

Maybe it was an hour, may be it was 2, I had no idea. I was situated halfway between the gutter and the stars and I wanted to go home. I felt awfully horrible for whatever I had done, I kept apologizing to whomsoever I ran into, asking them for their forgiveness. They thought I was drunk, You thought I was drunk, I knew I wasn’t drunk. Mayank and Harshal took me to the parking lot and I waited for a car to take me home. Mayank handed me a lemon to suck on and while keeping that fruit between my teeth I just realized something. Food! I had forgotten all about the food, there was food waiting for me and I was out here eating lemons! But the thought soon flew away as I started to let it all out again. I needed to get to bed fast…

Sitting in Sarabha’s car with Saurabh Chopra here to save the day as my driver, I was al set to get back to my hostel. I was having trouble getting into the car as I couldn’t locate my left foot. Raina, who was helping me into the car, felt relieved I had been taken car of. Little did he know that I had one last hurl to make. Since I couldn’t dirty Sarabha’s car, I decided to face outside, not realizing that it wasn’t the ground that I was facing but Raina’s shirt instead. Before I or Raina could realize what had happened, the car sped off into the night. Vinayak had left the building…

At the gates of the hostel stood my well-wishers all ready to drag me to my room and put me off to sleep. As they carried me, they told me that I was the 2nd person to come back. The first one being my very own neighbor. The moment I entered my room, I dropped into the warmth of my steel bed and was asleep even before anyone could bid me goodnight.

In a matter of 4 hours, I had undergone a roller-coaster that would be remembered for the rest of my life. One would say that I had turned from a boy into a man in these 4 hours. Others would say that I have committed a sin in these 4 hours.

I feel that I just lived out 4 hours of life.


Sunday, April 8, 2007


Through the curtains came the golden rays and formed a column above my eyes.
The dreams were over and so were the nightmares, it was the time for me to rise.

It was an early summer’s day and my exams were about to begin the next early summer’s day. I got up with a mind to do everything that I had planned out, but first a routine check on Orkut to see if my scraps or number of fans has increased or not. While I was there I thought I should make hay while the sun shone and decided to put a Beatles album for download as well. It had been months since I had seen a Sunday morning, Sundays always began with an afternoon nowadays, wondering what had been for breakfast although knowing it would be the same, stale paranthas that would make even the ones at a jail look sumptuous. It never changed. How I envy those criminals, they get to loot banks, ransack houses, kill people and have good food ! The world truly is a cruel place. With no scraps to write and no more friends to make, I put to play "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd. My laptop has a unique tendency of hiccoughing every time a song is put to play, something that would make anyone grit his teeth in anger. As for me, chucking the laptop was never an initiative, I thought selling the laptop as a time machine in a village would be a good option. But I was now used to it and I let the melody dig its way through the wax and into my eardrums. Singing along to Roger Water’s melancholy strain, I always mistook "Blue Skies from Pain" with "Blue Skies from Grey". I believed that Grey would have been a better word.

It was still two hours to go for lunch and I had to make every second count, I propped open my Notebook and put out my hand to fetch my textbook when it struck me that my book wasn’t there. This was a very common sight in the hostel, missing something and then testing the levels of your memory in trying to figure out who had taken it and when. So I went in search of the book all over the hostel, never aware of the fact that it was lying peacefully in my neighbor’s room, crackling its pages away in the sands of time.

All that searching made me hungry, it was still half an hour to go for lunch. I opened up the laptop again and did something that proved to be the biggest and effective time killer. I began to chat. It didn’t matter whether I was chatting with the guy in the next room or a cousin whose name I had forgotten, I needed to kill time and this was going to be my weapon. And so began the usual, " Wasups and How u doins". Before I knew it, Lunch time was here and then began the " Gtgs and Tcs"… Three dots, that was how short the communication gap had come to. My download was almost complete and decided to listen to a song or two before going down for my ‘feast’. My eyes grew wide as the window showed "99%" completed, and then the unthinkable (actually quite predictable) happened, as if happening in slow motion, the tube light flickered once, twice and then flickered no more. The fan lost its momentum slowly and steadily came to a halt and then as I looked at the tiny computer in my screen, there suddenly came a red cross on it. The message was clear, I was doomed. Consequently, my download went Phoof ! God had stabbed me in the back with a Swiss Army Knife and there was nothing I could do. God wasn’t much of a Beatles lover, I should’ve known. With a disgusted face I left my room in a fury, hoping against hope that the food might cheer me up.

Fifteen minutes hadn’t passed and I was back in my room. Sometimes, when a person is eating, the taste seems to remind him of something that tasted or smelt quite like what he was eating right now. It was one of those times and my food reminded me of only one thing, Dried Glue. What was worse, the aftereffects of eating that sloppy sewage serving were still happening as I sat in my room, reminding me of my toddler days when I used to play a lot with glue during my art and craft class and eventually end up in a ‘sticky’ situation. How could my life have become like this? There were times I remember,in a previous life, maybe when I used to come to the kitchen where my mother would be cooking and imitate hurling all over the dish when I used to have a look at it. My mother would say, "There are millions of children like you who are hungry and would do anything to have food like this" and my usual reply would be, "So, why don’t you go and give this to them?" Now when I think about it, I feel I have become one of those children, wishing for somebody’s mother to come through that door of mine and feed me till I burst.

My exam was still going to be held tomorrow but I was still in no mood to study. Choosing not to fight my urges, I picked up a book I had borrowed only yesterday, the entire collection of Ruskin Bond. As I began to read the first short story, which was "Woman on Platform No.8", I was again sent back to my school days when this chapter was included in our English course. Back then I used to read it to remember every point and every line in it. But now, I was reading it out of pure pleasure, and somehow this time, it was pleasing. Soon i forgot the tomorrow's exam, i forgot the The Beatles, I forgot the Glue-like lunch, it was only the book and I. I don't know what it was in that book, but somehow, it struck my heart and I got that feeling which I hadn't had for quite some time. It had been years since I had cried.

Tears formed at the corners of my eyes and I began to weep.
The day was over and so was my life, all I wanted, was to sleep.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007


Darkness was all around, a ghostly silence reigned in the skies. It was the calm before the storm, and the stars were all blinded, crickets chirped all around the forest, they seemed very excited, something was not right. Suddenly came a flash in the sky, and moments later came the thunder. It had begun. The winds picked up motion and the drops started falling, the leaves started to rustle wildly. The thunder continued and the rain picked up. The tempest had broken. All hell had broken loose and it just kept getting darker by the passing hour. The night seemed to be endless. From the depths of the forest came a bone chilling howl, the wolves were hungry, nature was making a horror movie. But something else was hungry as well. Something was lurking in the shadows, hiding in caves and holes, coming out in the night to satisfy its belly. Looked like today’s special was going to be K-9 Kajun. The monstrosity had come out into the open, it had smelt blood. The wolf sensed danger too and ran for safety, having the least idea that it was too late to run for cover, his fate had been sealed, he was going to end up at the plate, face up or face down was all that mattered. The creature sighted the wolf and it looked that it was going to devour it in one gulp. It made its move and leaped over its prey. The wolf, was now looking at the last thing it would ever see, the blood-curdling green eyes of his devourer. The rest was all darkness...


The flickering tube light brought him back to reality, the power had returned after a gap of 8 hours. As his eyes slowly opened, he disturbed the pools of sweat that had been formed and wiped his face with his sleeve and got up from the board. It had been 3 weeks since he had felt the feathery touch of a pillow. With his mouth parched and throat dry, he hopelessly searched for any source of water, he forgot what water tasted like. As he scratched his unshaven beard, he dragged himself out of the room and to the toilet. The smell of ammonia and waste flooded his nostrils but he didn’t show any signs of disgust. He was immune now. This was his aroma, his essence, his odor. To give him company, came his roommates, they had met on the first day, and despite their differences and fights, he learnt to live with them. They never used to bother him much but always got on his nerves whenever they tried to steal the food that he had managed to accumulate. Dwelling in the toilet bowls and hovering around the light bulbs, they came to his feet and head as he stomped on a few and fisted some more. He walked to the urinal and began to do his job, his thoughts of water were flowing into the drain and so was his life.

Glancing at the window, the evening sky was a deep red, birds were flying into the nests as the last rays of the sun faded into the night. He always hated dusk, it always created a sense of sorrow in him and he would even cry at times. But today, he did not care, he was now free, free from debts, free from the income tax, free from his loved ones, free from sorrow. He was free and yet he was not happy. As he walked out of that hell hole, his thoughts diverted to food. The bread in his pocket had been there for 2 days now, saving it for the ‘right’ time, and yet he felt now wasn’t it yet. His body was weak and frail, his hair had grown to his shoulders. He laughed to himself, thinking that the last time he grew hair this long was during his days at college. How he would imitate being a rock star with shining cars, blazing guitars and pools of money to swim in. The nostalgia crept back to him and the tears began to form at the corners of his eye. He wondered where the water for his tears came from. He was never like this, he had been happy once, he was fat, with a wife, with kids, a house and even a dog. He had everything that a man could wish for, everything except enough. Greed is what took over him, he wanted nothing else but more. It became his food, his sleep, his love and his life. Misfortune was never far from him and one day it rained down on him. The tumultuous downpour stripped him off everything he ever had, even his self dignity. The rain did stop but the clouds never parted, leaving him begging in his tracks and today, begging on the roadsides.

He walked to the balcony and looked at the world beneath his feet, he was on the top one day and today he was well below rock-bottom. As the sun finally set, the entire sky flooded with the noises from blaring loudspeaker of the nearby mosque. The evening prayers had started and he by his religion, was to sit for his prayers as well. But he chose to stay still, he chose to stand and not utter a single word in the name of God. All his life, he had prayed and prayed, but what was it all for? Where was God when his cheques bounced and his company faced losses? Where was he when he found out that his wife had betrayed him and departed with his kids without a note, a letter or even a phone call. He had prayed through these times, pleading for mercy and sympathy but all he got was silence. His vision was now blurred with the tears, he couldn’t control it anymore. He ripped open his shirt and screamed out curses to God and to life, at first people looked at this hobo with surprise and disgust and sometimes even pity. He screamed and screamed till no one noticed him anymore. His throat was now completely exhausted, he was still waiting for that glass of water. His wait lasted for a few minutes, he walked into his room,took his begging bowl in his hands and walked out into the open.

This was what happened everyday with him, he could have given up on life long back, but he chose to wait, wait for his glass of water and wait for God to put a hand on his shoulder and lead him into the light...