J

The bogus journey of a star from here to nowhere.

Under the light of a dim lamp, struggling to stay alive through the night. Crumpled dead leaves of unknown creepers under my bleeding feet. Some brisk, some slow, the ceaseless motions of the crystal worlds continue to cast a spell on my innocence. I’m walking straight to the divine core. From the uncut tangles of my black locks, a thousand screams reach out to the deaf sky. The fireflies die out in the bluish haze, my journey continues. Constantly remembering the days of my childhood. Or was it the child remembering me? Money. Euphoria. I relinquish. The birth of another being in another world. So distant yet connected like stars in the empty space. It’s within that’s without. The universe has run out of parking spaces. My feet burn as my heart yearns for yet another day of sunlight. Breathing today, someday I shall stop at the end of this journey and wait for the caged flame to pass into another vacant lamp.

tag cloud no. 9

hey RA, i'd never have done this, but anything for you, my friend:

7 wierd/random...whatever facts about me:

1. i hate alcohol when i'm drunk
2. i'm so single, i'm singular (trite but true)
3. i thought george michael sounded so much like wham!
4. i think life is waste of time
5. if i'm reborn and with a choice to be whatever I want to be, i'd want to be a mythological character in indrajal comics...alternatively, i'd love to be tin tin
6. i don't think i'm going to die...ever
7. i'm a samosa addict

phew! ok, now that done...i'm on to the next rule of the game...TAG my blogger friends...
1. rodzilla - a kid incarcerated in his own cage
2. curly - an incessant blogging machine
3. gyanita - ever-charged battery
4. rich - true feni lover men
5. human - this guy can work non-stop for days...and he calls himself human!

okays....i'm done. so all you guys tagged have to do the same... tag your friends, write 7 random/wierd stuff about yourself and tag your blogger friends...and also give a link to their blogs. pls let them know that they have been tagged by posting a message in their blog. most importantly, give a link to the one who blogged you.

keep rocking.

ddw diwali

dat's my mad family.

metal fest '07, bengaluuruuu (can't spell it)!

some of the pix from metal fest '07, bangalore.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/57218147@N00/

paste this link in a new browser and check it out.

Rocking time in bangalore with brahma and sepultura

3rd november '07...a day to remember. Kingfisher and PDM had brought sepultura to perform in india. it was the heaviest band yet to perform in india. my expectations were high. vince had arranged for me to walk into the venue during sound check, so i was pretty early there. the sound guy was pretty f***ed up, and after spending 2 hours of fruitless efforts, sepultura's sound guy fixed it up for them in 2 minutes. brahma had decided not to play due to sound problems, however, upon sepultura's request, they played with a whistling, screeching monitors on the stage. they were also later joined by Andreas on stage for one song. i thought brahma was the loudest band in india, but when their show was over, i was proved so wrong. Jean Dolabella ripped the silence with some exploding beats and from nowhere Paulo and Andreas joined the stage with what i can call a thunderbolt effect. the lights, smoke and the performance from the word go was sexspot. derrick green (you rock, dude) just tore the stage with his ripping voice and high energy. before the show, i thought i'd miss max and igor, but when i saw these guys on stage, i was overwhelmed by their sheer energy. not once did i think of igor and max (no doubt they still are my favourite metalheads). truly, these guys are the godzillas of brazil. their rich, distinct sound, amazing riffs (the best riffs are produced by sepultura, that's my belief, something that you can hum). what's more, the lucky boys cy and dev got to join them on stage for ROOTS!

it was the kickassest show i've ever been to, where i got to view the entire show just few inches away from the stage! and the best part was post concert, i got to meet the guys!!!!!!! 03rd november '07...a day i'll always remember!

simply bollywood

A)
The villain has the heroine tied to an electric chair with
a long electric wire leading to a switch.
The villain throws the switch and the electricity is now
shown flowing towards the heroin. The hero is running
towards the heroine racing with electricity to save her,
and yes he is catching up.

The villain at this point shouts to his chamcha:
"Charlie voltage baddhao, electicity jaldee jayegi".


B)
-1--
"Khade khade muh kya dekh rahe ho,  jaao,  ab to sab ka
muh meetha karna hai."
(standing standing why face you looking, go, now we
need to sweeten everyone's face)

C)
Frail girl lying on a charpoy, dying of the hindi movie
script writer's favourite fatal illness... yes, "Munni
ko blood cayncer ho gaya hai"
"He bhagwan, meri jaan le le, aur mere beti ki jaan
bacha de" (hey god, if it's all the same to you, wanna
trade my life for my daughter's?)

By this time, everyone is resigned to the fact that
the daughter will kick the bucket within the next two
minutes,  just in time for daaktarjee to come in and
check her pulse...as the background singers start clearing
their throats for the obligatory "aaa...aaa... chorus".

for more bollywood, log on to
http://www.rajiv.com/india/humor/filmi3.htm

stop the violence

bring home the light,
for here it's never too bright,
them dead and gone,
the voices still remain,
the torch light continues to torture,
innocent souls sucked into the iron straw,
the laughter ends, madness begins,
at home we have no law,
the hackers hack,
the crackers crack,
low below the line of humanity,
the animal evolves as man dissolves.

u r being watched

don't fool around my blog, i'm watching yawl!

nothing much to write

easy come, easy go,
what i wanna write, i don't know.
read what you can,
but, hell, don't give a damn.
dusty roads, lusty faces,
unbecoming of the f***ing races.
belief's a whore,
religions keep the score.
nothing equalizes,
no one realizes.
punctured brain,
nothing to gain.
bored reading, ready to yawn?
don't blame me, for i did warn!

grrraassshhh!

sinners at large

r and i finally made it to the confession box...the priest was missing.

siamese twins - krash n' slash

catz

Liquid cat with a biiiiig tail!

Maa ki...

Y'all have some laugh. click here. click now. http://www.maakitongue.com it's done by us for Yahoo! India. I'm sure you'll love it.

rainy days in goa...awesome

was in goa for a few days. it's dreamy, surreal...during the rains...unfortunately i couldn't take more pix, as it was pouring down all the time, but enjoyed every moment all the same :-) check out some of the pix...

a canopy of greenery

Dead by the sea side - anjuna

anjuna

remains of the St. Augustine church - old goa

stoned at anjuna

timepass

catch your breath, it's the last one. life almost goes in a flash. days, weeks and months...and a whole lot of shit. pots of gold change hands and you are left with a nickle. how the lure just doesn't end. "what then?" can't get enough. can't get more. nothing's more. more is less. the salivating never ends. satisfied never; asking for more forever...it goes on and on and on, till life punctures one day. as i write this each second turns into my past. can't even relish the passage of these slipping moments. how i'd love to keep them back and live a better life in each of those moments. like a friend said: life's one long time pass.

an apple a day keeps ignorance away!

the blog lost an l and i got lost in the bog. my space, my domain. you are welcome to drown your ego, pride, sorrow and happiness. drown down, down, down. stop complaining; the damn apple was meant to be eaten. ignorance could be bliss, but knowledge gives you the power to decide. i've consumed a big chunk of the juicy apple, killing the ignorant innoncence instantly, but the averice doesn't subside. truth, i know now, lies in the sweet juice of every bite.

googling is addictive

talk about the cyber space. we have yahoo! a brand with highest recall value. nearly a decade later, after creating its niche of users, which could easily be the population of a mid-sized nation, has yahoo! lost its edge to google? Although, yahoo! still retains it high recall value as a brand, we have google ruling the roost with higher usage.

while i've been using yahoo! since 1998 and an avid user at that, i've subliminally begun to prefer google. i've used yahoo! search and have had no complaints, however, today, if i've to search, i google (don't know when this switch happened); before joining orkut (which i'm out of now), i'd myself in yahoo! 360 degrees (which lay unused); i've got yahoo! answers, which is a kind of search, but more people-oriented (where real people answer your questions) than google's algorithmic search (yet its been long since i've used it). yahoo! mail has been my fav for years now, and yet i, as if guided by some unseen force, logs into gmail; yahoo! messenger has no competition with its features and smilies (google talk still has to make a dent there)...

however, broadly google has affected my life the way yahoo! had nearly a decade ago. can't figure out how and why. and all this while my fingers have been pouring these words on blogger...again google!

mortal kiss

the storm subsides,
and the fire dies,
the smoke emerges,
from the blue blurry eyes,
the twilight zone,
orange, brown and purplish blue;
it has begun,
the depths rise to the surface,
the scar opens its ugly mouth,
the dark valley, it's steep enough,
but not deep enough,
as i plummet to the abyss,
i touch down,
to rise again,
to the mortal kiss.

it better be soon

guess i got to go
somewhere i don't know
time will take me there
gotta pack some underwear
i'll wait
for the final turn of my fate
he's got to open the gate
i hope he won't be late

distraught

listen, i'm talking to you
not the one laughing at you
you feed on the seed i sow
you let me breed on the greed for more
the candle burns on
the slipknot slips not
what have you got
distraught
i miss you a lot

the ocean in a drop

the all-seeing eye
turns a blind eye on the wretch
the all-knowing
choses to ignore
the all-encompassing
has no room for his dreams and hopes
boredom from monotony
clips the featherless wings of imagination
insignificant social connections
fruitless impregantions
soon the battle will be over
and the war lost
it doesn't matter
he was the chosen one
not by his choice
the unknown omnipresent
will consume the last breath
and every drop of life
without a noise

life afloat

the umilical cord snapped and a new contract began
from the cusp of life and death
a child emerged
nameless
the eternity of the womb ended
and a new eternity forced open
the cosmos of snubbed hopes
and dangling lifelines
a mesh of crossroads
each leading nowhere
making a choice
the child shall crawl
until the contract comes to an end

the song of god without an 'o'

this is a song of god
who lost an 'o' when he was all good
lashes 39 causes pain and the 40th death
but He shall hold the last one
for He wants to relish the game until your last breath

i'll be gone one day
into the fire
the transition point
into oblivion
some call it heaven
others hell
i nurture no hope
for Mr. G has spent that O

blasphemous
outrageous
my soul's a black hole
living a dying life
dying a living death
i wish god had an extra 'o'
i wish god was good

styxxxxx

On our way to STYX...metal shall prevail...amen.

bangalore the rock city

can't wait to go to bangalore tomorrow for the aerosmith concert. they r finally OLD enough to come to india. actually, there's a list of bands i'm waiting to grow older, so that they'd start touring india - red hot chilli peppers, audioslave, metallica, megadeth, slayer, type O negative, U2 and more. can't think of more right now. and bangalore is the right place to attend a concert. the place rocks. bombay, in comparison with bangalore, sucks when it comes to rock music. there are some farts who love rock, but the true rock fans are down there in bangalore. styx and purple haze...i wish there was one pub like them in bombay.

Getting high at Rock Bottom

the other day, we - me and me office people - went to Rock Bottom. it was so low in the quality of music, i could call it Pits. for a change it had space, as compared with other discs in bombay. however, the music sucked like a toothless ho, like most other discs in bombay! in the midst of this perfect chaos, i was alone, wondering, when would this wriggling, a form of dancing bombayites have perfected in the overcrowded discs, end. while my collegues found some li'l space to do the twist, i tried to give beer a little more attention than i normally do. i don't remember doing this before. You know, like calling fosters Mr. Fosters and stuff. I'd never enjoyed Mr. Fosters company like i did that day. meanwhile, there was this guy, panting from his vigorous dancing on the floor, who dashes to my couch and slumps next to me. and every now and then he'd crouch forward and stare at my T-shirt. 'eh, hullo, it's my T not a mirror', i wanted to tell him. but my thoughts were punctuated by ricky, who yells, 'hey, ash, why is he staring at your dick?'

huh?!

i quickly grabbed Mr. fosters, and, don't remember which song it was, dashed to the floor. Rock Bottom. it was over at 3. we headed to ricky's place after that and the journey offered me the much-needed dose of metal. Black Sabath.

on your birthday you shall die...only on bombay roads!

wednesday morning, few hours past midnight, driving in their silver honda city, the Karias ram into a street light pole and die on the spot. the couple was celebrating 23-year-old Mrs. Karia's birthday and after dinner, was returning home to malad. 'had they fastened their seat belts, they would have not died'. this is what they wrote in the newpapers and this is what the police said. however, no one speaks of why the accident occured.

well, so it was that the couple was driving back home along with two other friends in the honda city. Mr. Karia was driving a little above 100 kmph, when the car zipped over a deep pot hole on the road. the chain of the steering wheel snapped and Mr. Karia lost control. The front portion of the car was totally smashed. The other two friends escaped with minor injuries.

bombay roads. every day i see it and i feel it calls for death every instant. and our civic authorities are not bothered about our lives, as long as they are making enough money from the taxes that we pay.

forget great roads, all i'd love to see are roads with no potholes. wonder if i'll live to see it ever.

i'm on a road to kill

a few evenings ago, it was 1979. smashing pumkins' hit from early 90s. timeless classic. overall, in a good mood, i travelled homewards. thoughts soon flooded into my dizzzy head and in a brief while i was floating in the midst of anguish and humour. i saw freedom as the only answer to it. to all (do i hear your thoughts, as you are reading this: "what is he talking about"?) ok i was dizzy in the head, so bear with me. but there was on thing clear: my freedom. but from what? maybe from the corroded roads of bombay; from the infrastructural handicap of our country; from the disillusioned, greedy, uneducated, bullying politicians. they affect my life everyday. while our country's economy is growing rapidly, with equal rapidity our infrastructure's falling apart...and then, i suddenly woke up from my thoughts to my rickshawala's daring act: he almost got himself, his rick and me crushed between 2 ricks and a car on the left and 4 cars on the right. soon, my thoughts shifted from the political babus to the bihari ones, riding the autos. both these babus are equally disgusting. they follow no rules; they are not trustworthy...not worthy of anything at all; both chew paan and those who don't, chew on indian citizen's money...the political babus make promises every year of bettering the roads and leave them with few more potholes. what makes it worst are the babus from bihar, who unleash their menace on these road-to-kill roads.
zigzagging, i reached the gates of my home, most importantly in one piece and for that moment, my freedom from the rick was good enough for me.

total recall

all of a sudden, i was back in 1991 last evening. couldn't believe my eyes, staring into an equally bewildered pair of eyes. "ash!" "subodh!" "ash is that you?" "subodh, you?"...wow, it was one of my best friends emerging from the pages of an old book. and like good old friends do when they meet after 16 years, we went to booze. it was the first time we boozed together. the last time we met, we were chai drinkers.

old stories and memories surfaced, and it was then that i realised i used have so much fun those days. not that i have given up having fun, it's just that those days we would enjoy moments which qualifies as insignificant today.

writing songs for a new girl in the area; having chai in tapris, talking about why education makes no sense; exchanging music (in cassettes); tearing jeans; writing a new song for a newer girl in town...and life was beautiful. it's been a while since i've done any of these! sigh!

NFS

Was on my way home last night and the rickshaw driver was a classified jerk. He followed no traffic or safety rules. For him it was NFS. It all began as we got stuck at the amboli church signal and he was like fuming: "this place is always bad; always traffic jam." I, as usual, put on my ear plugs and my journey began with Headless Children (WASP).
Soon the signal turned green and the rickshaw driver blind, or at least that's what it seemed to me. At first, I thought he'd be out of road rage in the first few seconds, but as Blackie started screaming the chorus, this pilot was jetting right behind a biker. He was a cm or 2 away from attaching his rick to the bike, when the biker moved back. "Aaram se," said I sternly. And to my surprise, this dude looks into one of the many rear view mirrors (the purpose of which i have not been able to find till date) and gives me a big grin. I had a 3D question mark hovering over my head post that smile. Then it was another bike, followed by an Innova; then a Civic...and that smile reflected on the mirror each time he nearly missed killing me (or both). By the time I'd reached home, I had thoroughly not enjoyed headless children, better, where the streets have no name, stay on these roads, scar tissue, rock in the usa, riding with the king, life is a highway, naughty by nature, miracle, sweet dreams are made of these, kosmokrator, near to the divine, king of pain, aisha and i can see clearly now.
but in in the end all was forgotten when my tastebuds went on a rollercoaster ride with some homemade squids!

make a difference, if you can

http://www.makeadifferencemovie.com/

Gods of the rotting world

It's not an opinion, but an irreplaceable feeling. Muffled thoughts from the depths, they emerge with the swell of an inestimable amount of unknown agony. The gods of stone. The gods of the temples, ancient and new. The placard says 'Lost'. I move on. I hear the bell. Yet I move on. The familiar stoney faces reflecting unfamiliar smiles. The call of the unheard I ignore. I always did. But, now, it grows even louder; one voice shredded into many. The fear insurmountable. It's getting dark again, and I see my shadow disappear. I'm splitting, again. It's time for rebirth; death, not yet. Deja vu, I relive you. The gods of the rotting world are back! fuck you!

What Darwin missed, Krashwin wrote!

Is it a mad world, or is it just me? have you ever felt that nothing in this world complies to your way of thinking? Or am I the only one to feel disoriented? For me, there are only two types of people: type A) people like me and type B) clients. Type A, people like me, are not worth talking about, while Type B are people we can't stop talking about, 'coz they never cease to amaze you with their unlimited charms. The blogga is very kind to allow me this space. Coming back to Type B, it is a civilization apart, and I dread to explore its roots. Though ancient heiroglyphics clearly say, as some of the explorers have noticed, that the Type B people seldom lived on earth. They visited our planet and were chased by our smart ancestors. It was only when their survival on this planet was in complete jeopardy that they invented economics and enslaved with it our smart ancestors. Even today, Type A kinds are slaves to the Type B kinds, plainly for the sustenance of economics. Darwin's theory gives me creeps and I prefer to go with the theory of krashwinism, which gives me hopes of freedom...civilizations do have disappeared in the past >:D

glance, glance...blink, blink, blink...glance...yaawn

rodz this is for u, chill!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPQVew0L0Vg&mode=related&search

isme emotion hain, drama hain aur action bhi...ddw picnic, folks!

i ventured to write about the picnic, but my words failed...and miserably. I ventured to write again and it just won't come out right. In the end, I had to give up and made a visual documentary of DDW's 8th happy birthday picnic to murud janjira. one request, to read this pictorial documentary, you have to go from page 4 bottom to page 1 top. yenjaay http://www.flickr.com/photos/57218147@N00/page4/

the pirate of the 22nd century

The terror of this merciless pirate had the entire ocean in darkness...Ladies and Gentlemen... Rich Lopez aka Jack Popat for you.

team ddw

For a starter dat's Team DDW. Though some of 'em missed it and are absent in da pic. More on the picnic later. i'ts an epic, and might take me millions of breaths before i draw the mega event in words.

DDW Turns 8 on 23rd Mar

Tomorrow we leave for Murud for a 3-day-picnic. We are celebrating DDW's 8th birthday. Can't believe we are this old all of a sudden. It's going to be a big break for everyone working here, as it's our first company picnic. There's going to be music, booze, great sea food and no work...purfect. What's even better is the fact that cell phones barely get connected, so no clients.

Virus Alert

There is a virus being passed around electronically, orally, and by hand. This virus is called Worm-Overload-Recreational-Killer (WORK). If you receive WORK from any of your colleagues, your boss, or anyone else via any means. DO NOT TOUCH IT. This virus will wipe out your private life completely. If you should come into contact with WORK, put your jacket on and take two good friends to the nearest grocery store. Purchase the antidote known as Work-Isolating-Neutralizer-Extract (WINE) or Bothersome-Employer-Elimination-Rebooter (BEER). Take the antidote repeatedly until WORK has been completely eliminated from your system. You should let your friends know about this deadly virus. If you do not have friends, you have already been infected and WORK is controlling your life.

Perish you shall

Hey, Joe, could you spend some time with me? Some spare time, you know. It's my brithday you know. I wanna buy a cake for me-self. A brown cake with creamy white layer on top and a cherry above it. Hey, Joe, do you think I'm your whore? It's not easy being me; you have no idea. Ignore me today. But tomorrow, will be my day. A very dark day. Joe, you can work it out with me, if you care. Look around; you have defecated everywhere. Your paper-thin identity is losing its final bit of essence. For thousands of years, I have nurtured you and loved you. And you made friends with the gods of the depth. I shall stand by you even today, and I'll be glad. Alas, you choose your extinction. And I'm not sad. Send your army of ignorance into my heart. Bathe in my bleeding rivers. While I wait and watch...and see you perish!

Fire in my belly, your ash on my tongue

You shall burn, by your desire to burn. I shall burn to burn you. As I vomit my raging fluid, you shall meet your end. You shall DIE with your uninspiring, overambitious life. Are you ready to be shrouded in apocalyptic dust? You better be, 'cause I'm about to spit the ash into the air. You shall breathe but ash. The beast in me is my unrelenting desire. The beast in me will bring you the agony of ages, hidden in my belly. Your world will I rock. You I will fuck. Try me. Try my beast. Try your best. It's payback time, my dear. With all my love I will consume you. I'm coming for you sooner than you imagine, my beloved, incompetent enemy.

speed kills but thrills

grand finally, we are out with our website on Formula One - the second most watched sport in the world. guys you are welcome to register. the uniqueness of this site is that all the images you'll see here are illustrated. the lights go off on the 18th of march and season 2007 begins. join us as the new era in F1 begins, without Michael Schumacer. ask you friends to join in as well. http://www.f1india.com

Conflicting phrases

1) Actions are louder than words
But, Pen is mightier than sword

2) Don't cross the bridge till you reach it
But, Forwarned is forearmed

I'd love to make a collection of these conflicting phrases. So please feel free to contribute.

decentralise

In the past couple of days my fingers gave a damn about the instructions sent to it by my brain. I wanted write (well type). I wanted to scratch. I wanted to dial her number. I wanted to send her an sms. I wanted to switch the channel. I wanted to fasten my fly. I wanted to play the guitar. I wanted to click pictures. I wanted to shampoo. I wanted to fix a drink. I wanted to dig my nose. I wanted to press the lift button. I wanted to withdraw cash. I wanted to throw richie's phone into the gorai creek. Sometimes, I wonder, what if our body parts were not centrally controlled. Imagine. Imagine. Right leg walking backwards, while left forward. Left hand continuously slapping people around, while right holding a cup of tea...:) Imagine...Ra, any inputs?

Word for the day

Mumm

Life-aqs

If life was a question, what would be your answer?
Mine would be a series of commas, ending with an exclamation mark.

torn

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ObN7gt23m1M&mode=related&search=

back to high

After a low, came the high. I licked the abyss and its heavy stench remained ever on my tongue. There was no coffee-vending machine down there and the light bulb had lost its purpose a long time ago. In the beginning it was an endless fall, as it seemed. A free fall into the oblivion. It grew chillier as I plummeted into the void. I looked above and saw the light disappear. I heard whispers in the darkness. The echoes of the familiar voices giggling and laughing at me. They brought forth a chill I can barely explain. She spat at me and laughed like a maniac, while he pushed a venmous dagger into my spine. In the blindness, I continued to precipitate and continued to wonder where and when was it going to end, if at all it was going to end. "After you hit the bottom, there's no other way but upwards," said Maria. Ah, the bottom, thought I. I waited for the bottom. Desperately. For once, I forgot about the top. The bottom was where I wanted to be - to go back to the top, to that higher place. Though dark and ominous it seemed, the bottom was more like a promise I had been waiting for. I was going to swim through the darkness back to the place where I belong - at the Top. After, what felt like a lifetime, I touched the bottom. It was bright and sunny. Beautiful golden beaches where I drank beer up to my gills, pickled my insides with a range of fine wines and squids and pork chops in the evenings. It was then that I realised that the sun had replaced the ligh bulb and beer-shacks had displaced the coffee-vending machines. I knew I'd be on my way up any time and I was going to miss the bottom, the abyss of my life. It was a singular experience, but the memory still remains. The dagger and the laughter still remains.

when losing is winning

Last evening, we argued, or just about began to argue. "You win," I said and put an end to it. "You are such a loser. You always lose with me. And that is why you could not even keep me." said she.

Little does she know, i thought, the pleasure of losing to someone you love, when losing someone you love itself becomes a part of it, and to see the smile on the face of the one you love, magnified through the convex teardrop.

pari and spari

It must have been half past 11 at night, when sudhir aka giant popat aka black bison (his latest and last sobriquet) dragged me and an unexpecting lionel to the open grounds of raja koliwada, gorai. Away from the loud, grunge guitaring of pearl jam, bison dragged both of us into the darkness. Eddie Wedder had died somewhere behind. In the darkness, bison, wearing white shorts and banyan appeared like a vision. Billions of stars twinkled upon us; gentle breeze occasionally rendered the palm trees to clap, as if in excitement of the drama opening up below. I gathered the stillness of the moment. The constant sound of rolling sea waves grew louder in the silence, when bison decided to stop. "Do you guys know pari and spari?" spoke the banyan. His voice was gentle, yet menacing in that inky darkness. Lionel looked at me looking at him, and we both saw a huge question mark dangling above our heads. "No," we said. "Ok, these are two martial art techniques, only few black belts in the world know. Today, I'm going to not only show you pari and spari, but also teach you." "Run," i said, but before lionel and i could act, the bison was on us. His hairy hands gripped our wrists like a rottweiler would a bone and dragged us like some dead branches fallen off the palm. It was quiet again and bison took his position. we waited. he waited. we waited some more. nothing moved. nothing happened. It looked like eternity and then he spoke. "Che, i can't show you these techniques; it's too loud here," said he. "I can hear you breathing, it can't get quieter than that!" said I. "No, pari and spari needs immense concentration," said he. "Oh, fuck it, we are going back," said I, making a leave for the shack. But the bison, the rottweiler, was back on wrist. "Ok, now get it over with, will you?" i asked in a prolonged exasperation. The banyan and the shorts took postion. Nothing moved for another 10 minutes, except for the palms, sea waves and my left eyebrows, which twitched, announcing an impending calamity. "Hey, Sudhir, do it, man. Else, we are going back to the shack," finally my gentle friend, lionel, spoke. I must inform you that it takes great effort to push lionel to a limit and bison had done that about 12 minutes back. "No, I can't, it's too loud," said bison. Words flowed between the two, when lionel touched the sensitive cord. "Look, sudhir, cynthia is kissing another guying in that corner," said lionel. The earth shook; palms stopped clapping and clung to each other for support, lest they fell uprooted; for a brief moment the stars from the sky had descended from their original positions and begun to do the lamada around my head; my life flashed before my eyes. Precisely 3 seconds after the special effects, I saw what my words can barely describe: bison's body was parallel to the ground, his arms flailing, his legs kicking...'thud!'...lands bison on the sandy ground. For another 15 seconds the collosal body was twisting, turning, kicking, wriggling, punching, gasping for breath like a walrus in the arctic ocean. Then, silence! Lionel and I had been a witness to pari and spari, two of the martial art techniques only few masters knew in the world. Leaving the bison to relax after the mighty show, I poured some coke in my old monk and joined in with Eddie...I'm still alive, yeaaah I, I'm still alive!

so this is lent...

and the lenten season has begun. most of my friends have decided to abstain from something or the other. richie stays away from the cancer sticks, melvin stays away from booze (not completely, just a li'l)...someone somewhere will abstain from shaving (the beard), then there will be some abstaining from non-veg (food only), paul - i have no idea - he should abstain from anything that makes his paunch grow like a giant mushroom (richy that goes for you too), vincy, i'm sure, will abstain from all those who don't consume alcohol, savio - you should abstain from dreaming of those yummy frogs you are going to hunt and demonize during the monsoon, collin - should he?, rodz - abstain from abstaining, like moi.

love hurts :)

put on your headphones and enjoy

http://www.betterloverseminar.com/desi_wife_catches_husband.php

time - it's wheels within wheels

money can't buy you happiness, but it can buy you things that can make you happy. in other words, money can buy you happiness.

money is not everything. who cares about everything as long as you have the money.

drinking alcohol has never solved anybody's problems. but drinking milk, tea, water...has neither.

accident prone zone, turn right quickly and fall into the ditch. try staying straight on bombay roads without falling into one.

smoking might kill you. if it doesn't, life surely will.

well, yeah, life started on a wrong note today. overslept by 20 minutes. hit the gym 35 minutes later. missed the rocket to office. result: reached office 1 hour and 25 minutes late. waking up late sucks. there's so much to do - earn loadsa money, go paragliding, river rafting, rappling, camping, skydiving, go to the himalayas, meditate, buy the volkswagon beetle, drink sambuka in coffee, compose some tripping psy trance tracks, write a fantasy book, have the largest collection of books, build a psychedelic house, grow a forest, collect dino eggs, excavate a forgotten civilization...find my princess...somebody's got to stop the clock!

clients are abstract

this is list of bizzare things my clients have said (you could add your own experiences):
1) "could you please make the white colour a little whiter?"

2) (there's not elec in my office and the client desperately needs a file to be mailed) "ashwin, do something, copy the data onto a cd and mail it from a cyber cafe."

3) "ashwin, talk about our services subtely, but highlight it."

4) (it's 8pm) "ashwin, this job is very urgent. i need it by 10am tomorrow. and don't charge us for it."

5) "we have lost the bill. could you please send a fresh one?" (that was the fifth time in a row)

6) "make the logo big!"

7) "the CTA should be bigger!"

8) (a brief for a direct mailer) "we need to make a DM. ashwin, make a good one."

9) "ashwin, use colours like green, orange, maybe add violet here and some golden shade here...you are the creative guy, you should give me ideas." (this client was talking about designing a CORPORATE brochure)

ma best friend, ma guitar

i saw me in my guitar
it wouldn't laugh as i sighed
it wouldn't speak as i lied
i saw me in my guitar
it sang the rhythm of my heart
it did as i strummed it from the start
my guitar has my heart
i saw me in my guitar
it never played a minor
when my heart beat a major
it never joked to the joker
my guitar is my friend forever
i had my good days
when we played happy music
i had my sad days too
when we played happy music
but my guitar wept alone
when i slept into the unknown
people came and they went
some broke my heart and left a dent
my guitar moaned every note i felt
but never did it play what i never meant

krash! part deux

the streaks of colours - milky pink, fruity violet, fresh newborn green, deep deep blue, grape red, lemon yellow and more - formed a mesh around me. it illuminated like optical fibres. it was burning, but cool nonetheless. a rhythm had caught on - tempo 160. layers of sounds added dimensions to everything i saw, and all that i saw was, in reality, my imagination caught up in a cosmic flow of a subtle consciousness, which technically resides deep within, unless evoked.

sinking, i felt. my insides vomitted. stars stuck in the darkness of the old lady's falling raiment twinkled with increased eagerness. i saw a few fall like droplets of quicksilver and precipitate into the ocean of blackness below. in the eternity i saw the (excuse moi...mr. sandosh is here, "ashwin the artwork is ready", he says, "ok", i say) infinity of nothingness. there were strangers around me, but i felt at home. the rhythm made everything alright. the drowning moon, 45 degrees to where i stood, made it alright. goa gil's altar made it alright. the tempo made it alright.

ok, mr. sandosh is here again...

the 2nd big impact cometh!

eternity, what are thee?

nothing's eternal: first kiss, first love, second love, money, school, heavy metal, chachu's omlete pav, gajju bhai's chai tapri, garden bar, street bar, building compound bar, under-construction building bar, daaku and the jugaad company, bandya's chechu, vikas's girly voice, Tani's first cry, mangroves - once home to thousands of migratory birds, now called charkop, torn jeans, painted jeans, painted bags, painted t-shirts, long hair, school friends, college friends, area friends, friends' friends, girl friends, noni, danny mc gill, tasmin archer, Ovi's hugs...

would you get married or tattooed instead?

“Get married,” said my mom, notwithstanding the fact that my golden years are not yet over. Golden years of bachelorhood, golden years of FREEDOM! But all good things come to an end, and those that haven’t, will. Tomorrow’s another day, but today’s mine. And I shall not share it with anyone; someone who’s so permanent. Yes, permanence is the word I dread most. I’m no celebrity after all, to whom marriage is just another tuxedo. I’m no child of the west, where marriages end more often than one receives the monthly pay cheque.

Marriage! It’s quasi tattoo! Only, tattoos pain in the beginning, and then lasts forever to remind you constantly of that pain through a colourful mosaic of a scar it leaves behind. NO! I can’t live with something so permanent. “But you have already lived half your life, what now remains is the fading bit,” said my friend, the third eye.

Ummm! Now that sucks. The third eye never lies. Tattoos and marriages are going to be a part of my fading remainder, and a permanent reminder of my own impermanence! “Ok, Mom, go find me a girl, while I go get myself tattooed!”

she turns 5 on jan 5

today's my niece's birthday. she'll turn all of five and i wonder what she thinks about it. i'm sure she gives a damn about the number 5 anyways. i know, i was five once, and i never gave a damn about it too. but it was then. today, even as the clock ticks with its usual zest, i feel like a candle melting away into oblivion. it's not the oblivion i'm scared of, nor is it the consistent, unstoppable, irrevocable melting doom; it's the fucking clock that never stops laughing at the dying cells of my decaying, rotting makeshift body. u thought the traffic was loud? try listening to the intimidating, metronomish tick tock of the clock. in its every tick and tock, you are reminded of your helplessness: YOU ARE LIFE LIMITED!

it's my niece's 5th bday today...and i'm all excited. i've to buy a nice gift for her 5th birthday. wonder what is the best gift for the 5th birthday? damn, i never thought about it. but she gives a damn about the number 5 anyways...so why bother about the perfect gift for the 5th birthday? any gift, i'm sure, would add to her excitement.

al-righty then...ho to tani!

when you go right, things can go wrong

my knee opened like an infant's mouth and my head closed like bombay's railway ticket counter. the vermillion thickly flowed down my shin, staining strands of hair that stood helplessly in its way. i saw greenday fly, singing 'Time of your Life', and crash landing on the rough tar; there was stampede of thoughts in my head. like crabs, each thought grabbed the one before and dragged it behind; nothing coherent formed within my temples.

"i swear, i didn't do anything wrong. i was only going towards the right," said my friend in a voice that stoutly denied his claim. 'how can things go wrong, when one goes right?', i wondered. it was clear my friend did not intend to carry the can for things going wrong, as he went right. "forget it," i said.

look, a dead horse...or, wait a minute, is it our honda splayed like a dead horse on the tar? then i realised how right my friend was...he was so right that the biker who happend to ram us from behind had no room on the road to pass us. Moments later, we found him wriggling out of dried grass that flanked the porvorim road; yes we were on our way to the saturday night market at arpora.

coming back to this interesting slice of life, I knew this man had not punted us accidentally on purpose. I knew he was high on feni. I knew things could have gone more wrong. I knew my friend was right. But I knew this man was far more right.

I offered a helping hand to this man...