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...