Sunday, September 25, 2011

lazy dusk........

when i look above..cn c the starts shining so bright ..evn diamonds may feel shy.....covering me in there velvety blanket..looking at me from above.,,,,,telling my quizitive eyes that the one u r missing is missing u too.....n staring us hard to c u through....

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

“Does terror have a religion?”

My take on the aforementioned topic debated on NDTV’s big fight:

Oh no, not this now, don’t start debating on terror also now-categorically!! And what is the point of dragging religion into it anyway, I mean, wasn’t the futile ramps on making political issues on the name of religion enough that we are here debating to add a new asterisk to it in the name of terrorism!!
It’s said and believed, and when I say believed (be it be the fairy tale drama, or sheer-ignorance belief) I do believe, that fear is less when it does not have a face. It is a dark hole with void perhaps, but giving that fear a mask of religion would no longer terrorize, it creates havoc!!
Isn’t it huge enough already? The raging terrorism, destruction, hatred up surging everywhere that we now be so shallow to start debating on the percentage of Hindutva or the Muslim factor, to further trigger the fire.

Who are we? “pokers”!! , that instead of finding means and ways to curb the bloody attacker together we have to stand and comment, rather debate on him wearing an orange robe or a green one!!
Giving “terror” the “freedom” to:
Choose and kill,
Kill and choose
Or no bias: kill all !!

All the permutation & combinations fitting in so well, ironical isn’t it?


P.S: I couldn’t help being sarcastic, so no offends if any “green or orange” sentiments, I did hurt, as I am myself a little BLUE..
Go on people, host big fights (NDTV), or go on debating people, igniting minds and we here will sit and blog about you.
For me, terror is just a filthy fish’s poop in the shallow waters of world , no matter what country’s tailored product it may be.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Purple shorts

Make that purple shorts.

Summer and I don’t really gel well.
Summer hates me and I can’t stand summer!
If I could murder it, I would have done that long back. And the heat really affects my mood. I go mad, like berserk. Start snapping at people like a maniac and all that.
It’s 49.4 degrees in Jaipur. Omg!
What is wrong with the world!
I rather get dragged by camels there than bear the heat.

Oooh by the way, I’ve started meditating. Not proper meditating but it’s more like just sitting in silence for a while and having a completely blank mind. It’s quite a task for someone like me who always has something or the other going on inside. Does your mind hum? Mine does.
In those few minutes, I don’t give a shit to anything else. They can all wait.
With so much happening these days, I thought my poor lil’ head deserved a break. I know I’m sounding like this 50 year old right now but what to do yah!
Am I turning into some sadhu?
Not the ones in orange robes who go wandering off into the forests of course.
More like the ones who are allowed chicken.
And sex.
Aha!

Zach Braff is so adorable in Scrubs.
I want to adopt him :(

Oh and curly hair, I hate you.
Shooo!

Monday, May 16, 2011

Fiction- Little Moments of Joy!!!


Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep.
But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick four-plex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.
Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked."Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened.
A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness."It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.""Oh, you're such a good boy," she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?""It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly."Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice."I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighbourhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair."How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse."Nothing," I said."You have to make a living," she answered."There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient at the end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.



P.S - We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said ...but they will always remember how you made them feel. The same is what I felt after reading this one. Though fiction but so beautifully drafted that it gives a heart touching joy …that sense of satisfaction and bliss. Couldn’t help acknowledging this one and hence posted to share, a story by ~Barry Kingsley~

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Water without Whiskey can give a kick >>>>>

Sitting in my office, sipping coffee......
(for all those who do not know, yeah even I have joined the league-caffine):P
so ya...sipping coffee and with work load pretty light today enjoying sitting idle and gazing out. Its raining hard, and the streets are empty, trees as if repainted green.
No alcohol can match up the high of the faint smell of wet mud in rains. I have this special fantasy for rains, getting drenched, tend to feel sexy you know :P

Though, I tried to remember the last time I played in the rain like that.
I realised, from the time I’ve turned into this obsessed-with-my-hair maniac, forget playing..I haven’t even walked properly in the rain minus any worries!

Fuck.this.shit.

It’s raining and to hell with everything else! I’m going to go there and break into a dance!

I love twirling umbrellas by the way.
I also do stunts. Umbrella stunts!!!! :P
And then the umbrella gets all weird and refuses to protect me from the rain.

Okay bye.
And today might be my last day at work...I mean if they see me acting like this berk serk maniac in the rain i don't think they"ll risk keeping me....
lol..
Fingers Crossed....


p.s- Finally feeling good, minus all the worries and expectations and feelings and blah blah blah..the ones that were never fulfilled.....RIP you all I am happy being me today.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Divine Ragaa


Dedicated to my friend ABC, as though with a thing that he came up with i got a chance to be a part of this great initiative. With my hand on my heart and eyes closed i truely abide by n fervour the step tht u hv taken and my salute to u for tht..

To ABC:

http://www.facebook.com/divineraaga

Bikhara hai sara jahan..na koi hai disha
Yaha pooche har koi.. kaun hai tera khuda?
“vo ‘ek’ hai…or ‘tu’ be ek hai"
“ekism”

Btr thn thousnd hollow wrds..is 1 wrd tht brings peace-”music”-tht hs the ‘DIVINE’ pwr 2 unite us al...it stands halfway b/w thought n phenomenon
Join us..join music..reflect the unity f soul
With wrld cup cmng ovr,alng wit cricket let music run in2 ur blood too.Spread the spirit f ekism..
http://www.youtube.com/divineraaga#p/a/u/1/w5-PH2kYU6A

p.s - btr than anything i wud need ur support here...for a noble cause....fite the evil in u , fyn the uniqueness in ur soul tht binds us all..........

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

I"ll say her.........well.....one day for sure!!!



I love her.
26 years, I tried to tell her, but never could.
In this time a lot happened – growing up, education, career, marriage and her husband’s death.
I tried till I got cancer 2 years ago!
......
....
..
.
.
.
.
Her funeral......
I’ll try now, again.After all, there is no better ghost in this graveyard than me.
........i killed time..........





p.s- m back to blogger again, n ya profusely appologise that i wudn't be able to continue my story here on blogger....have some other big plans for it..as hv written it completely n it has shaped out well. so, i wud gv it a diffrnt platform. i hope u"ll understand. @abc n kiko- shall mail u soon for editing. :)