Saturday, December 01, 2007


Between insipid work which irritates the soul and an enterprising corollary that my dream promises me; between the terrifying loneliness an alien community inflicts in you and the exciting prospect of a better bank balance; between being looked down upon by mongoloid eyes and being praised and cuddled by invisible voices from afar; between the eternally growing longing for being back home and an anticipation of breaking all such strings that tie me down, I miss being free. I miss being able to live like I used to live. I miss a lot. I miss being myself.

Somewhere I read; enjoy the ‘blank spaces’, and yet somewhere else it written, there is a rhythm to all the specifics of life. We are aware that a musical note would not be musical if it did not have a blank space. The difference in the crescendo and fall of the notes, the shift from one tune to another, all involves a break in the sound we hear. Should this blank space be respected? or shoud it not be?

So what am I experiencing? The 'rhythm' or the ‘blank space’? If either, then why do I miss being free? Why do I really miss an explanation of any sorts, and so continue miss, being myself?

Thursday, September 06, 2007

The Perfect Actor

I said: It’s amazing. Amazing and stupendous in all conceivable aspects, the reason we were created for. It is said with worship that, God created us. God is Supreme. God has all powers. He can be magical. He can be kind. He can bless. He can punish. He creates. He destroys. He is here. He is there. He is everywhere.

All we are supposed to do is to obey his commands. Obey rules. Obey others when they feel we are ‘wrong’ or detest our ‘self’, when we feel only personally, something as ‘right’. We are right if we believe in God (says one). We are right if we don’t believe in something (says another). Who amongst both these factions have seen this so called “GOD” in a true form?

If, by any chance he does exist, then why are we supposed to go through all these things that he sees as petty mundane matters of existence, without knowing where we may or what we may do erroneously? Anything and everything is relative to each other. Actions are relative to thoughts. Thoughts relative to words. Words are relative to thoughts and thoughts relative to actions. That’s back to square one. So in essence, its like saying A=B and B=C and hence A=C, though we have learnt that A can never be B nor can B be C, because they are alphabets and they are singular identities. Imagine using A instead of B or B instead of C. Just because of all these relative theories and what we jus went through, a Bat would be a Cat and a Call would be a Ball. So if you need to play cricket or baseball, – which could also be called ‘bricket’ or ‘caseball’- all that you have to do is throw a call to a cat. But we do know that we can never ‘throw’ a call to a cat. So then how do we play what we want to? Impossible.We started with a question of what a lie is, about god, about what we are expected to do, to perform. Now what did we talk and what did we understand? Irrespective of the ideas expressed, we should note that it is the so called GOD who made us have an argument about A, B and C, and how they are related and how they are not. So, is he worth enough to be revered? We tried to question certain doubts and how have we been answered? Phew, respectable! That’s why I titled this essay, The Perfect Actor.

He said: I am an Actor. The owner of any action is an actor. Everything is relative to what we see or what we hear or what we feel. Some say those who worship the so called devil are terrible or those who see god in a different form are by far, more appalling. Those, whom You accuse, believe you are the ones who are wrong. So who is right? You? The accused? The Devil is not my opposite. It is my absence. But is there anyplace, - somewhere - where I am absent? No. Darkness is not absence of light. It is just the absence of intensity of light. So is there a devil? Is there a Satan? Don’t worry, there is. It is me. I am both and I am one. That is what relativity is all about. Your left hand would be your right hand if you judge that by looking onto a mirror. You call me an actor, a perfect actor. Here too, it is relative to perfection that you have given me the title. But there is also imperfection and every imperfection is also me, because if there was no imperfection, would there be perfection? What you just now went through, asking questions and relating it with the theory of relativity is not stupid and really funny because I see it from your viewpoint. It is also stupid and funny and crazy because I see it from the perspectives of all others. So if you believe that you may be made fun of, don’t worry because they don’t have the strength to see from a different perspective. Now, rest your body. We will talk in your dreams, for through dreams a lot can be said without the body getting exhausted, as an exhausted body would drain an active mind of all its strength.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Sorry God !

I was going through the pictures of a girl, a girl whom I love way more than anything in this whole wide world. At the same time, I was chatting with her boyfriend. I started our conversation exclaiming that she looked really sexy and how I hated God because he did'nt make ME her boyfriend. Her boyfriend was happy and did not hide his pleasure at the raw rules that ‘fate’ had bestowed upon both of us.

I was still busy addressing Mr. God with a plethora of obscenities for having made me a part of such a Fate. Suddenly I got a call from God. He seemed to be upset that I had been under constant and continued resentment about having not been born as a ‘boy-friend’ to a girl I adored so much.

“Have you ever been in doubt or ever suspected that she does not ‘love’ you?” was his first question.

“No”, said I.

“Have you ever been in any sort of qualm regarding the veracity of this emotion in your own heart?”

“No”, said I, once again. ‘No’ seemed to be the only word that I could utter.

“Have you not been able to play with her, laugh and enjoy her presence to your hearts content?”

Even before that question registered itself in the twisty curvy mass of flesh under my skull I so haughtily call ‘The Brain’, Mr. God was already through with his next question.

“Have you ever found it difficult to express your love to her?”

“Have you, like many others hesitated many times fearing rejection from her of your feelings? You tried the same thing with certain other girls, and you have gone through these fears, have you not”

“Have you not hugged her without getting rebuked for that?”

“Have you not kissed her?”

“Have you not lived with her, slept with her, ate and drank with her and that too, for how many years? Are you not going to have this fortune for the rest of your life too? Just imagine, you moron (yea, I am angry!), you are going to be in love with this girl till your last breath. Obviously, you would also have another lady to be with, but despite that you can still kiss this girl, cuddle her, hug her and be merry and happy with her. No one, I repeat; No one would question you on that.”

“I thought I’ve heard you thanking me for blessing you with this ‘unconditional love’ that you term it. Just believe that it cannot be better than this.”

I know that you have never prayed for this to happen, but since you have been complaining a lot, I jus want to you to SHUT YOUR BLOODY FUCKING MOUTH AND THANK ME FOR THIS UNANSWERED PRAYER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

I couldn’t utter a single word. All I did was sit with my mouth wide open, aghast at the shout I heard, though just before he hung up, I happened to mutter, "Sorry, God".
Anyway, never again am I going to curse God for making Priya my sister.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

How Parentheses fell in love with Bracket and gave birth to a Full Stop.

Parentheses was a male, 20 years old and happily snoring and enjoying each nights sleep. At 5 and a half feet tall, he wasn’t the picture of a perfect man that girls dreamed would come riding, riding and riding on a white stallion and take her off to some strange land named ‘Atlantis’ where she finds that he was the prince of that heavenly abode. In fact, he wasn’t anything that any girl would ever dream of. Just-another-guy-next-door suited his image well. He was always looked upon by his friends as a loner in life. Girls and women were a big No-No to him. He was well satisfied with multitude of the videos he used to watch with his friends, seconded porn magazines that he used to buy for a penny, and eyeing the busty female classmates he never had. He only used to yawn and dream of eating French fries, when his friends were busy discussing their personal exploits on the different girls they could lay their lips on for a French kiss. Funny? No. He just wasn’t interested, that’s why. But of course, that did not mean darting his eyes down the neckline of any girl he saw was forsaken. Many times he thought ‘this is the girl’ whenever he saw a rather enterprising quality in some woman he had the chance to relate to, in some way. But never ever did he fall into it which he used to term as ‘a trap’. He was happy though of how he was moving along with the tick of the clock. No gals. No worries. No responsibilities. Life was just happy and gay always.

17 years and busy counting her days for her last schooldays, Bracket was a damsel that any guy would fall in love at the first sight. Beautiful curves augmented the beauty of her lusty eyes and rosy lips. Thin and elegant, she had commendable assets that cannot be described with words of any language as it might take pages alone to finish the description. But, despite having that awe inspiring looks, and of course getting countless proposals from innumerable boys who always asked her why she was always seated, Bracket was never ready. Though she did like each and every boy who had proposed her, she was sure that they would back off if they saw her legs, or rather, saw her leg. This was because she had only one. The other was contained in a bracket. This fear made her discard such emotions called love and lust. She pledged herself that she would only live for the world. Dedicate her life for humanity. Become a ‘Mother Teresa-sort-of-angelic-figure’ and do deeds that normal people can never even think of. She even did a ‘Google Search’ to find out deeds that normal people can never even think of. But alas Google was not lucky to find answers for such a request. She never put a forlorn face in answer to such a failure.

So here starts the fairy tale of two loners in life; loners till Mr. Cupid surprisingly hit the target. He was so happy of having improved his aim that he bought his best friend Judas, a pint of Fosters beer.
Sitting one day on her wheelchair on the veranda, Bracket was busy trying to comprehend why her favourite Mastiff was eating grass, she was surprised when her friend and neighbour walked in with Parentheses trailing behind, hiding himself from the mastiff, which was too busy tasting grass to take note of the new stranger. She was being introduced to Parentheses, but she was still busy trying to infer the unusual behaviour of her dog. Did the dog hear any nonsensical talk which said eating meat was truly blasphemous?

“After all, dogs are basically non-vegetarian” was what she said when she was asked if they could get to talk to her father. “No wonder I came to invite your dog for a meaty party. Sorry, I did not mean that about your dad.” said Parentheses spontaneously and immediately regretted making that cocky remark. She let out a hearty laugh and then invited them in. From then on, it was like a film story. Love and dreams bloomed. He was the handsome Prince of Paupers and she was Cinderella. Everything happened smoothly, except of course the songs and dance sequences. Both of them would have been a big flop; Bracket, since having only one leg and Parentheses because, because he was just Parenthesis and not John Travolta. Phone bills started to rise; Parenthesis started to borrow and slowly started to fail meeting all such loans. Bracket, on the other hand was not in any sort of trouble, because she knew her fathers bank account would take coffers larger than the titanic to fill. Finally she started paying for him too. Years flew by though not many only two and one morning Parenthesis and another friend took the north road to fetch a pail of blessings when Parentheses fell down and broke his crown, and his car came tumbling after. Parenthesis forgot his name. He forgot Bracket.

Bracket never came to know about this accident till after 2 months. When she came to know of it she was down in the drains. (that was just used as a figure of speech, not the nearby sewage drain). She now understood why he had not been responding to her calls. Finally when she got through to him, Bracket tried her best reminding him of everything that went through the past two years. But Parenthesis was astounded to learn all these from a girl he hardly knew, rather remembered. After all, in his period of recuperation, he had only reached the ‘schooling years’ where he was always chanting ‘No No’ to girls. One day Bracket came to see him. Parentheses saw her and he was suddenly was pulled back into the lane of past memories. Everything came back to him in a flash. Bracket, who she was, the relation, the love they shared, the mastiff she raised, her dad he met and finally, the telephone bills. Suddenly he twisted his eyebrows in trying to recollect the amount and with great difficulty counted the amount to be 6500. And by God, he was totally broke right now. What if she wants all that money back? He smiled at Bracket and said, “Sorry, I don’t recognize you, Bracket. Bye!” Bracket never knew that her father had been there to pay him a visit and had threatened him to stay away or he would be forced to take her away for good, which was what finally happened. After 2 months, off they flew off to the UK. Parentheses could only stand back staring at the sky murmuring the song Richard Marx sang a few couple of decades ago; “Right Here Waiting for You.”

Thus Full Stop was born.

“Hi I am Exclamation, your sister’s friend.” said a voice from behind. Parenthesis turned around to see a damsel smiling at him. Far away, somewhere yonder something glimmered in the sunlight. Was it a shining arrow? Was Mr Cupid aiming at him once again?

Saturday, June 16, 2007


It was dark and lonely. Above, the sky was cloudy and it was blocking the rays of the sun. Was it night or was it day? Nothing knew. With a slight shiver, a twist and a turn, 'it' started moving. Surrounded by water, deep and away from anything it ever knew 'it' started moving. The journey had begun. The destiny was unknown. All it was doing was moving, floating along to wherever the current of the oceans would take it.

Aeons passed. ‘It’ had changed its shape. It was bigger broader and fiercer; could swim; change directions; search for others; hunt; and eat. It had transformed into many other forms too. One day, it saw something far near the horizon. Nearing it, ‘it’ understood that it was not water. Something hard; something different; colours were all over this new thing. So one day, 'it' slowly with much ado about nothing changed its form and slowly crawled onto this new realm. But certain other ‘its’ chose to remain in the ocean. Over land again ‘it’ started ruling. Started living like how it lived ruling the waves and everything beneath. After some time ‘it’ started feeling that bearing the same shadow and same figure everyday was no fun. So 'it' started to change, into big and into small. It started walking on four, while certain others started balancing themselves on two. ‘It’ had by then multiplied into ‘They’. They all started walking.

Ages passed, the sun still rose in the east and kept on setting on, in the west. Monkeys shed their furry dress and named themselves ‘human’. Someone amongst them called themselves ‘man’ and they decided to rule the earth. Someone amongst them saw that a spark could grow, it could make you feel comfortable, it could cook food; Fire was born! Something rolled, and someone christened it The Wheel. No one questioned. Scars upon the land started to appear and humans started to call it roads. Someone found out that others would give them something if they gave something. ‘Trade’ was born. Someone called themselves Harappans and before long perished to some unknown danger. The sphinx rose in the Egyptian desert and people bowed at it in respect. Caesar was stabbed and Mark Anthony delivered a captivating speech. Joan of Arc was flayed alive and Shakespeare wrote books. There was a whir here and a whir there. Industrial revolution was taking place. Bullets started whizzing past and the Fuehrer shot himself to death. Pearl harbour was burnt and Japan saw the mushroom cloud. America started to be everything, while the Gandhi was on a Non Cooperative Movement with the British Rule. Monroe committed suicide and Kennedy was assassinated. America withdrew in humiliation from Vietnam. Peace was starting to grow.

And finally on a Thursday, the last day of the calendar year 1981, a boy was born. Twenty eight days later he was named. He was petted and coaxed and cajoled over by a whole lot of people. He grew up in joy. Everyday was as sweet as the toffees and chocolates he used to receive. He started going to school. He started to hate school. His teacher was suffering from the loss of her husband because the train he was traveling for work took a plunge down into a deep lake. He started to hate her more and more day by day, and she reciprocated the same. She couldn’t control herself from getting irritated at him. He started forging signatures to cover information sent to his parents. He started being rebellious in his approach to schooling and studies. He failed in his studies. He was asked to continue in the same grade as a ‘disciplinary action’. He studied once again, the whole year, the same texts. He was wondering why. Same teachers, same classroom, same desk and seat, but different friends. He did not cry. He felt humiliated though. He was just in the 4th grade. A year later he changed school. He started loving the new atmosphere. The new community welcomed him with respect. He started to be proficient in academics. After two years, he changed his school to a new one in a new locality. Here too, he passed on with brilliant grades. But, high school was a flop. The natural ambiguous thoughts and conceptions of the teenage years were driving him haywire. He was miserable in the subsequent academic examinations, but surprisingly showed brilliance for the further admission tests. Joined for a totally deviant academic line. Got manhandled by his college mates. Changed course. Enjoyed the new college, though was always short of stipulated attendance. Made a lot of friends. Bunked classes and drunk and boozed to stay high. Fell in love; a damsel so pious but a limb one less. He was 23.

One day, he drove a friend to his death. Got disfigured; lost memories and woke up a fortnight later to find that his clock had rewound 18 years into the past. He had forgotten every second of the past 23 years of life he had led till then. Spoke and acted like a toddler. He recognized none. His mother was just another woman called 'mom'. His dad was just another man called 'dad'. Did he ever fall in love? He never remembered. He started seeing someone differently. She became everything to him, mom, dad, friend, lover and what not. She was only 20, 3 years younger, his sister. She nursed him back to life. She fed him, she sung lullabies, and when he was afraid of a lot of things she watched each step he took. Finally one day he read the headline of a September 2004 newspaper. Two students met with an accident and one died! The other is hospitalized in a critical condition. And suddenly a new man was born. Got disfigured in that accident. Lost memories. Still bears scars upon my face. Still, I remain Ajay. This is the story of Evolution, My Evolution.