Day dreaming..

Occurs mostly on weekends as you have nothing else to do. Particularly when you are alone, not only physically but more mentally so. When your body lies down on the bed and your mind wanders away to those moments which otherwise insignificant yet somehow leaves a mark. I am not a literatti or an author, I do not command a good grasp over this language either. But I can keep it simple and while just a few moments back I was lying down, looking at the ceiling I remembered few of those moments that I can see clearly, can feel them , as if they are happening, still happening in front of me, and as I write would become permanent in every sense.

Moment 1. Getting from a vehicle, look up and see a smile for the first time... a smile that was so pure and genuine that no smiles can never match. On the surface it is just a smile, you dig deep and you know what it means...

Moment 2. The entry - which you would wait for every morning. That gush of air once the door is opened, that feeling which you think about on your way... that gush of air which would mark the start of a day

Moment 3. The absence - which also somehow you like. Not the absence of someone, but the absence of the whole situation taht arises out of something. The chair, the switched off computer, the voice and many more... absence sometimes makes up for a thousand presence

Moment 4. The irritation that arises from continuous nagging. You somehow hate it at that moment, but now you wish it was still a part of your life as it was then. Now you realise, how much that irritation was imp to you. Now that the cause is not there, you miss it that much

Moment 5. The call. A wake up call, an alarm that would start your day. I do not start my day anymore. It starts with a full stop, not even a comma or a semicolon

Moment 6. Maggi... I do not need to explain.

Moment 7. Pizza... again no explanation required

Moment 8. Bacardi White Rum with Limca... add to it, crispy chilly honey potatoes

Moment 9. The wait on the road with a bag... a small red and blue colored one. The irritation on the face for being late, taking an u turn and yet not finding the actual place

Moment 10. A white Maruti 800... which in itself has so many moments

Moment 11. Hitting a ford with that 800 and laughing on it

Moment 12. The 800 refuses to move, most of the times

Moment 13. Trying to park the 800 everytime

Moment 14. And trying to get it out from the parking area

Moment 15. Locking the car with the keys inside

Moment 16. Calling the helpline and again calling to cancel it... coz someone else has been able to get the keys out for you

Moment 17. Lunch and non veg

Moment 18. Coffee, coffee and coffee everyday...

Moments.... so many of them that you can just fill them up... and this moment which reminds me of all those moments that made me a human full of life and confidence and hope. Those moments might never come back, or if destined would... but at this moment, I am looking at the sky full of white clouds smiling at me at peace and reminding me of a time that has given me life at every moment... a reason to be what I want to... I would live with these moments forever and try to make the best of them...

This moment I start afresh... to provide justice to those moments... through my heart and mind.

Please do not disturb...

In an age where privacy is found at premium and you are watched everytime, you are nothing but a number in various database, some companies have borrowed from the west and introduced the concept of 'do not disturb' list.

This is a stale statement and nothing new in it and it is also not what I want to write about. Taking from my last but one post, I just have one request. Like hotel rooms provide you with tags as mentioned in the subject line, I guess mobile phones also should have an automated voice response to send the signal nice and clear for those who keep on trying thinking there is hope at the other end of the line. A hope to get a response that means so muchhhhh sometimes....

How would you know the value of such responses. You have not been searching desperately for that as a lifeline to your existence :). funny isnt it, when voices become a reason to exist. Sorry...have completely lost it... ha ha ha ha haaaaa....

ME(jaded)

Jaded. verb. means tired, worn-out, exhausted.

A state of mind more than physical that encompasses a situation where all your efforts seem to vanish into thin air. You put your best foot forward yet fail. You stand up, yet you fail. You fight not to win, but for the glory.

When does someone get jaded. Fancy isn't that word? If you hear it for the first time, you would get a positive vibe, so strange considering its just the opposite. But since most of it is in the mind, it really is not that difficult to fathom the reason behind the same.

According to me, we use this word when we do not see any hope anymore. We know we could have done this much, pushed ourselves to that extreme and then fall down in a heap. Results do not matter now, outcomes hardly effect. What effects is the destruction of self belief.

But few people have the courage to get back and try one last time. I have seen those people succeed. Right now no one can be more jaded than me... down and out after fighting a lonely battle with the world for 16 hours, I am nothing but a mass of meat. My mind is numb, my heart just beats mechanically. But I somehow see a flicker. A flicker which helps me write now. A flicker which results from someone who has come up truimph every time. Someone who has made comebacks a habit, and sometimes from places you shiver to get down to. Someone who has been an inspiration to me all the while... showing the best when the odds are high, when the cast is laid and when the society has written it off...

Yes, I am tired today... I cant fight anymore, but I hope that my inspiration stays beside me to fight it out once more... one last time, before the state of being Jaded is final.

Today, I accept how helpless I am sitting here all alone, fighting to regain myself, my worth, my confidence, ME(JADED)...

Guilty.. but even guilty gets a chance to plead...

Yes my honour, I have been guilty. Of destroying some hopes that once were mine. Of destroying some dreams that once were my creation. Of destroying some ambitions that would not have been there, if I had not kindled the flame.

And of many more things which cannot be turned with time or healed with hours, days or years. The scars would still remain, the wound healed but the scars so deep and prominent that they would leave a mark that is permanent and proof of moments that has been witness to the crime.

My lord! I know pleading guilty does not reduce the extent of criminal act. The effect still remains. But your honour, any offender gets a single chance to plead his case! And I think I am entitled to the same too...I will allow the jury to provide any verdict they deem to be fit, but before the same I will rest my case, not before the jury, lest they get influenced. I will rest my case in front of you my lord with these following emotions that has been running through my veins, blocking the flow of blood every moment of my life.

Yes I am guilty, guilty, guilty. No doubt about that. And I am still guilty for not being able to do justice to my priorities and my present status. But have anybody ever asked what I have gone through. What a tumultuos journey I had for those moments where I have lost my mind, become hasty, gone from being mad to insane, sometimes not even fit to be a part of this society. Have anyone ever asked about my compulsions, my moments, my loneliness, my hatred towards myself.

Yes your honour, I hate myself. Hate- an emotion I was never privy to has suddenly become so prominent for me. I cannot hate anyone but me. How it feels when every morning you look at yourself and want to kill that person in the mirror. How lost a person can be when his hatred for himself leads to self destruction.

A situation which you cannot help but be a silent spectator to. Mockery of emotions that has binded you to so many people in present and past and not a single instance you can point saying you have done your duty.

All said and done, I keep asking myself a single question. Haven't I done anything good ever. Have'nt there been a moment when I have brought laughter, peace, tranquility and confidence in my ecosystem. If yes, then I go to my grave in some peace. I am not saying that I should be forgiven for my present state and my past. I remain as guilty as ever. But what happened to those moments wherein I was the reason for existence, I fought for everything that was not mine and I need not have fought for, those times where I gave more than my life to see things around me fall in their places. I hope you do not misconstrue my explanations. I am not asking for any forgiveness. Like everyone, I am speaking my mind.

Your honour! I am not that bad a person. If I have been a perpatrator, I have been a victim too. A victim of myself who is cursed throughout his life to crawl on the bed of earth like a small little ant who cannot survive for a moment.

But maybe I am that bad a person, that is why I have lost everything! And keep losing everyday, every moment, losing my mind, my space, my existence... ending up just as a name in the records.

I ask this question to no one but myself... what about the biggest victim -me. Who does 'me' go for justice. Or he does not deserve any justice. If that be the case, I accept your decision my lord!

You have been more than gracious to listen to my parting words before the jury provides its verdict. I stay clear your honour from the starboard of this ship which once was built by me, every inch of it, captained by me...to chart territories that no one ever dared to... to sail for the unknown that no one ever though about...

Every captain is as good as yesterday. I was never good for even today!

The jury is out? And the verdict... I know... no need to mention the same my lord!

Tagged...

You can call me sociable, to the extent one needs to be termed as a social animal. I am an introvert by nature when it comes to personal life. My professional life is far from it, an introvert cannot survive in my area of interest.

Though I enjoy my solitude, of late I have started hating people more than Jonathon Swift who once wrote, "the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl on the face of earth". He was referring to Mankind.

This recent bout of hatredness is a phenomenon called "Tagged" on the net. Some obscure human being whose name can range anything from Ram to Rodrigues has been tagging me regularly. I get atleast 10 'Tagged'mails everyday.

While I am quite active in Orkut and appreciate the great service it has rendered for all t hose who wanted to wish Minal Panchal of now infamous Virginia Tech shootout, but that's just one out of the million cases.

'Tagged' is the latest of irritating unstoppable net invasion. My cyber identity like any netizen of this world is extremely precious. I do not like anyone invading my virtual space. Be it Myspace or Ryze. I didn't raise to Ryze and even refused to 'LinkedIn'.

The point is I do not want to be tagged(it sounds to me more like a dog's tail) by someone I am not interested in or do not know. And those auto responses that say how much Mr. X would be feeling bad if I did not answer in affirmative, gives no joy to my funny bone.

And why the hell should I provide my cell number, landline number and birthday. Are you going to get me the gift which I want or going to pay my phone bills? Anyways I cannot do anything about my mails, they have been bugged already.

Dear Ram-Rodrigues, please do not add me in your list. I am no important to be the part of your illustruos friends list. Presently, majority of us lock ourselves away from real friends and then desperately seek out company in the virtual arena which for me after a time is not only scary but a step towards creating an ecosystem where symbiosis is just another word.

India, as one of the greatest civilization of the world once boasted of human bonding that was a part of joint families connected to each other.

Alas! Virtual Connectivity has put end to this reality of human connection.

Chicken Feed

I was on my way to a meeting today and stuck up in a jam. In a car which shielded me by black windows I could see through it what is happening beside me in the street. I came across a mini truck carrying chickens and roosters of all sizes. Now I have been a carnivorus, a meat eater to the core(which has somehow reduced and stopped if not permanently, temporarily for sure). Diversions noty withstanding, this truck was carrying a whole bunch of chickens all actively participating in mutual conversations while toying away with grains which we say chicken feed. At the middle of a busy day where I was collating thoughts to present a case for my client, suddenly my mind wandered to those chickens.

I have always believed and pretty strongly that hens always are aware of the fact that they are born to become meat for humans. Somehow it does not bother them. They also realise that the more they feed themselves, the greater the chance to become healthier and hence preferred targets. But this do not deter them from keep feeding themselves and mind you they feel contemplated.

It brings to a point where I realised today that how much I learnt from this one single seeemingly innocuos fact. Like hens, we human beings also delve upon gaining skill sets over the years to arm ourselves be successful. Not realising, the better we are armed, the more the chance we are taken advantage of. Now purists would argue saying, your skills get paid for. You earn money, respect and means to fulfill your dreams and wishes. But my little experience proves otherwise. We hardly get what we wish. Ask me, i wish to become a free man, not dependent upon working even when my heart does not allow. We just surrender to the reality and make ousrselves happy to suit the situation, not what suits us.

Just like those hens who have surrendered to having delicious meals in form of chicken feeds before they become the tasty meat for some homo sapien somewhere.

For me suddenly money becomes that chicken feed, i need it to survive to be happy fully realising that it is a way to end the life in me... And mind you I love money, never complaining that I am earning them... do hens complain about chicken feed??? I doubt they have the time also... :)

ps. "Lost... like sands in the desert" not mine but borrowed. I believe grains of sands could never get lost in the desert. Its those grains that make the desert. Its those small moments, memories that make life so worth living. Some one close did make me realise the worth of smaller things in life. I wish I realise the same...

Jeena Isika Naam hain...

This has always been my fav song... it really has been. Maybe for one, that I believe in every word of its and second that I really can sing the song well.

But suddenly kyon jeena isika naam hain... coz someone reminded me about this song. After long time....

I have forgot so many thinigs, forgot to sing, forgot to mix with the civilization, forgot to be a sapien...

But this blog is tribute to that person who reminded me my fav song. That person still reminds me one of the best moments in life I had... things which i still search for....I long for... I feel incomplete without...

Yeah.. with that person not in my life, I do feel incomplete, incoherent, aimless... coz any matter of success in life is incomplete without that entity being a part of it....


I wish I could follow the lines of the song in life... and be worthy of making people smile....


Kisika dard mile sake to le udhaar
Jeena isika naam hain...

And my fav lines go as this... a tribute to that entity....

Ki Marke bhi kisiko yaaad aenge
Kisiko aasuo mein muskurayenge
Kahega phool har kali se baar baaar


JEENA ISIKA NAAM HAIN....

SHE... Speechless
But why is she? Was it conscious to stop exercising her vocal chords or she really has nothing to say to anyone? Perhaps she is searching an answer to this, perhaps the search is unending, permanent. Perhaps she really does'nt want an answer, because it really is immaterial to find answer to everything. WHY encompasses such a huge black hole that there is no way but getting sucked into this world which only throws questions at you, happily leaving you to search for answers, those answers that would have been too useless at that moment.

Maybe, that is why she is speechless.After all dumbs have no enemies.In her case, nothing but the pituitary gland has gone dumb. The lub-dub machine has gone dumb. And when the 'dub' becomes dumb... she becomes speechless. Mortals like us often suffer from vocabulary dehydration, many of us take talking a way to earn livelihood. But she never has been a talkative one. Quite, calm and peaceful she is the most calming factor you would ever find. And add to that the power of no speech and she is almost invincible.

She is not speechless, the world doesnt deserve her speech. Her silence is her way towards asserting her identity in this world.

SHE IS SPEECLESS, SHE IS POWERFUL...

ONE OF THOSE NITES

One Of Those Nites


i am sleepless,strange feelings surround me
my mind searches a question, the best possible one
that can never have an answer.

my soul plays the flute
whistling away to the its solitude
like those waves, who come together
but die a lonely death

i am the shore, the witness to those deaths
burdened by the sin of being the reason of those demises.
HIS voice at a distance, creates a web of emotions,
the Words taking the journey of bliss and moksha.

only my soul fails to find Moksha
in vain, but with the faith that it would not fail.
the time has stopped recognising me,
i dont remember who he is...

as sense starts making no sense to my mind
i wander away to a world that is flat
that is simple
so simple that you cease to exist

i move towards that world, to attain a state of 'Nirakar'
without any structure, any identity...
i feel relieved as the question ultimately arrives;

is it,

ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS?

Phoenix...

Isn't that the mythological bird that rises from ashes everytime burnt to death? Resurrection as they adorn Christ with also follows the same principle. There has been more and many in the history of the mankind who pride themselves in creating heroes out of those who have died a thousand deaths and eched memories to draw inspirations from. There would be many to come... I do not pride myself to have died many deaths or being credited a 'hero' status. But These things do inspire me for what I am now.

My world changed in a period of 7 days. Things went topsy turvy, nightmares became true and I was stranded amidst ruins, ruins that I only had been responsible for. The past 200 days or so has been stuff that stories are made of. I am sure that any publisher would have snatched my story which would have been a hot cake. Not that these things do not happen in this world, but the way it has unfolded and I being the only author of the same has been surprised, saddened, happy, amused, dejected, at the same moment.

Emotions have folded and unfolded, created and destroyed by me and only me. There is and would never be anyone to be blamed for the kind of turn this whole humdinger of situations have taken place.

And in all these while I accept my doings, I accept that like any other mortal, I have become the hero, villain, director, author, producer of this sure to be hit potboiler, somewhere I felt that I need to tell my part of the story to myself. Yes, I have hurt people, people those who have been closest to me at some point in time, helped me at every phase and stood by me, been my pillars of strength.

There has not been a single person who has not got hurt because of me. Hurt is an understatement and my limited vocabulary of this language does not allow me to find an appropriate word for the same.

I realise what has happened, but there is some parts still untold. Some twists still left in the tale. I know end of this piece would not make it look like 'Much Ado About Nothing' but would somehow make me at peace with myself.

This whole period has been tough for me. To decide, to judge, to react and be wise and righteous. A point in came in my life where disillusionment was my middle name and I had stopped being the person that always others admired of. Patience, proficiency, attitude, and many many other things were virtues in me, as time went by I lost all of them, left with the mind of a devil who was hell bent in destroying himself and in the process others.

If you ask me about an analogy of my situation on a daily basis I could draw inspiration from Captain Haddock wherein his devil and angel would fight every moment and the devil would prevail. For me that tussle was every moment. I fought them for quite a while but when it happens to you on a daily basis you lose it. Your judgement stops acting and you do what that unknown force makes you do.

It is not at all funny when every night you fear your mind. You fear your existence. You fear that trigger... that snap when every sensible steps would cease to exist and you would rise like Mr. Hyde. Was I bipolar? Maybe I was if that is the clinical term. But I could realise the attacks, those painful moments that made me do things that would cause pain to others. Believe in me when I say I would bang my head on the walls, on my pillow and try to get out of the shackles. Those sleepless nights has started becoming endless and my eyes would stare at the window, praying that glimpse of the first ray.

The story of my mental trauma would never end and at this moment in time it would not change things ever. The damage has been done and I am the soul perpatrator, but dear friend I have been the victim too and maybe the most tortured one.

But, there is this a single flame still left somewhere. Just unable to die down in the gushing winds of emotion that has choked me, tossed me across longitudes and bringing me to the shore of despair and solitude.

That flame however, refused to die, refused to see me die. All said and done, I have been great once upon a time, I have been a role model for many, has been self made in my own capacity, have achieved a lot that not many at my age have been able to deliver.

This is what drives me now. Though my past would always torment my sub conscious, my success would never be the same without few ones being a part of it, I would still rise...I do not want to be a hero but I want to make the remaining days in my life constructive, live for others, live for those reasons and people who have made me what I am today.

I know till date I am not fully capable to get back to my past. Because that me was exceptional and inspiring. It would be difficult to get that ME in me, but I would keep trying.

Resurrection has to happen... for those who some point in time lived and are still living their life for me.

The Phoenix in me will Rise...