crimson feet

pouring out ...slowly

2011-04-27T15:31:00.001+05:30

Supernatural Venting

2010-04-11T10:10:00.005+05:30

O+ : halkat!
O-> : aha! you are in the mood

O+ : the puss which oozes out of the fungus on stale bread!!
O-> : right. precisely

O+ : the doggy poo which stinks... the fly with AIDS... the mosquito who is infertile
O-> : okkk. baby... feelin better :)

O+ : a lil
O-> : good... u can say more... like a rotten anal wart from a dead pig's colon!

O+ : yuck!!! bleh! gives me goose bumps
O-> : ok ok. then smthng less disgusting.. like... a fly without wings?

O+ : ok
O-> : ...and a crawling cockroach with no antennae?

O+ : yuck... like a swatted cockroach with broken legs and diahrohhea! ...like the poo of a honey bee when its got dysentry
O-> : lol. that sure was a good one

O+ : he is the rotten stink of a dead rat. puke!
O-> : come on now. u cant puke on this. u said it urself! :)

O+ : so what? the thought makes me puke..
O-> : lol. ok baby. we are tryin to get some peace into ur system here.. so cool

O+ : he is the dehydrated semen of a nymphomaniac
O-> : Awwwsssoommemeeeeee. THAT was the BEST! ...seriously.
he is the sperm flushed away after masturbation in a pakistani refugee camp...

O+ : dont have fun at my expense
O-> : ahem! that WAS a good one

O+ : I dont really hate pakistanis that much
O-> : oh. ok

O+ : not ALL of them are bad you know
O-> : then .. well ... we can make it... a donkey's sperm flushed away after masturbation?

O+ : lol!! yeah... and ...he is the rash inside the butt crack of a farting hedgehog
O-> : HAHAHAHHA... how coool. u are really getting a good hang of this

O+ : ya rrrright!!!!
O-> : :) really baby...u are doing very well. u excel at everything u do

O+ : yuck!... I just got s disgusting thought
O-> : tell me tell me :)

O+ : he is the herpes inside the vagina of a menstruating woman
bleh!!
yuck!!
puke!!
urgh!
O-> : HAWWWWW... yuckkk. really yuckkk. but then, i think this is when u hit the peak. venting out is good

O+ : he is the condom on a dildo without batteries
O-> : he is the lube used when making animal porn

O+ : he is the bacteria in the tooth cavity of a stinking mouth
O-> : ... the bell shape curve requiremnt is being fulfilled... ur behaviour in the last half an hour has been certified as totally natural

O+ : he is horrid and mean and selfish and a virgin and I will hex him so that he remains a virgin for the rest of his life. His heart will want all the action but his body wont RISE to any occasion and he will get the job as a bartender at a strip bar with boobilicious women!
O-> : okkkk then!!... u ARE defying nature

O+ : how come?
O-> : u picked up tempo after going down on the bell curve!!

O+ : huh?
O-> : u ARE, my girl, supernatural

O+ : yeah yeah yeah!

After a long time... i say

2010-01-05T15:02:00.007+05:30

A man's weakness probably lies in his conscious struggle to evolve, or in his inability to enjoy the rigour of evolution! However, when it comes to happiness, we can comfortably ignore evolution.

i have no clue what happened to Ramprasad Rasiya... and given that I am not Jimmy, possibly i cudn't have had much clue ever. but i sense that he walked away. he had legs u see... and one who has legs is supposed to do things that people with legs do... things like.. walking away. he had legs... he did what he was supposed to do... he walked away. OK! point made. what next?

while ramprasad rasiya did what he was supposed to do... even jimmy did what he thought he was supposed to do... one of them, out of a multitude of things, was to ...well.. ahem...think... yes.. thats what he thought he was supposed to do... so he did that

...in all this "doing what one is supposed to do" it suddenly struck me that there need not be just ONE "supposed to do thing" in a man's life... for eg . apart from having legs, ram prasad rasiya also had a mouth and tongue. so while he was justified in being "supposed to walk" he was also "supposed to talk"... and hence he should have ideally talked away while he walked away.
But Ramprasad Rasiya never did that... he walked away silently.

Jimmy on the other hand, doesn't know, or will never know all and every possible thing that he is supposed to do.
(i for one just don't want to repeat that phrase again)

Amidst all this riff raff, which may not matter to many, what must really matter is this...

...the intensity and passion with which one focuses on a faceless but positive future, while a tangible and rather questionably exciting present stands in their face, is the only thing that decides what exactly it is that one is... supposed to do!

And so on... The Fall

2009-06-28T14:26:00.004+05:30

Brownie Prichette was not sure how exactly she reached here. She couldn’t see a thing or move an inch. The thick silence around her was veiling some distant sounds of traffic, and her shoulders were throbbing. Her entire body felt tired.

The last memory she had was of being lost in the lanes of Colaba Causeway trying to evade the drug peddler whom she owed either some money or five fresh customers. Was she forced or did she fall by accident? She was trying hard to remember… anything... anything at all… oh! …Yes…she remembers that she had turned around one last time to check if she had managed to lose him yet, and there he was right at her heals, as if materialized from thin air, his crude bloodshot eyes staring coldly at her, with an almost inconspicuous glint. And before she could blink an eye, she had felt a sharp needle poke the outside of her left thigh. It hadn't hurt much.

Now, against her own wishes, she was finding this peace silently satisfying, except for the hunger pangs just about beginning in her tummy. Given that her life could be in danger, hunger should have been the last thing on her mind. She had, knowingly or unknowingly, reached a point that she always wanted to reach. A point from where her life would change and she could start looking up. Now, from where she was, things could only look up.

She was stuck right at the bottom of a 10 ft deep vertical pit.

The Change & The Difference

2009-06-24T23:54:00.003+05:30

There was never a dull moment with him around. A lot of people were in awe of him, many more envied him, and almost all of them dreamed of being him.
“I love women!” he said with a glint in his eyes. It sounded like ‘I love McDonalds!’ or ‘I love Gaajar Ka Halwa!’ something to be consumed at leisure, and at times in friends’ company. Only he could have put something as profoundly deep as it was witty, in such an understated manner. Everyone around appreciated the humor.
“I love the fact that they are, and I love the fact that they do.” More of the applause ensued!
“I am endlessly besotted by the idea that a woman comes with so many avenues of pleasure. Unlike the earlier times, we have been able to filter out the not so pleasing woman experiences, and retain just the pleasantly, and intensely satisfying ones. We shall continue to strive to further the cause of male pleasure seeking behavior with increased gusto, and a day will come, when all that will be left in the world, would be pleasure and peace.” Loud cheers and thunderous roars followed this profound statement.
He was the star of the future. A staunch Masculinist, and the leader of The World Hedonistic Forum.
The world seemed to have changed.

~~~~~*~~~~~

She hadn’t touched a soul ever, but she had claimed lives. She intensely despised even a small possibility of injustice. She was one woman with purpose and was obviously on a mission. The mission of making this world a better place for her fellow women-beings. A less obvious mission that she also seemed to be on was to be on a mission itself, always.
“We must keep moving, keep progressing and keep caring, for each other. We must ensure more venues that aid constructive flow of creative energies!”
Life had changed for the regular man. Literally. Women didn’t have to live in hide-outs, scurrying away from the ever prowling and blood thirsty ‘Femme Guard Forces’. The rapid evolution of the womanhood into this self sufficient entity (politically, administratively and physically) with huge creative freedom, and progressively degenerating motherly instincts, had made the man redundant. And now that they didn’t need them, they wanted to eradicate them. This was borne more out of a need to optimize resources rather than any feeling of hatred. Although, hate groups still existed and were treated more like a break from the routine.
“We must make sure that we only do as much is needed to be done. And that we don’t overburden the world with that which is not needed anymore.”
She was the icon. Epitome of the power of femininity, the leader of The New Perfect World Order.
The world seemed to have changed.

"Ramprasad Rasiya & A Meaningful End"

2009-06-18T13:46:00.003+05:30

Jimmy realised he had started sharing his views and opinions by twitching his nose and rolling his eyes, rather than presenting well measured words and logical arguments. After all, you couldn't say much when asked to choose between two almost identical bags, with a minor difference of one being a certain shade of Beige, and the other being a certain other shade of Beige (Or a Buffy amber or Alabaster or Indigo.. and so on and so forth). Beige in itself was too difficult a color to lend itself to measured words and logic. Anything apart from Red, Green and Blue was meaningless for a simple mind like Jimmy's. But it all felt wonderful.
Janice loved bags with a convoluted sense of color, and Jimmy loved words with a convoluted sense of meaning. They both were a true match and thats why they had hit it off so well, but there still was a long way to cover and they would do in their own sweet tme.
Janice would go around picking bags, shoes, books and more bags while Jimmy would provide his jocund company, until of course she turned around and asked, "Which color suits me better?". There was only so much enthusiasm he could gather for responding to a question like that, given his acute awareness of the predicament. Yet, he enjoyed every bit of it and indulged her like he had never indulged anyone before. Not even Gerry.
"I think this looks good on you!" He said as if he knew what he was talking.
"No No... they both look good on me, I know that. But which one looks better?" She chirped, hungry to be indulged.
"Hmmm... this one. Ya... I think this one looks better. It adds that spark of glamor to the bag. Goes with your personality." He indulged generously.
"Nooo... but I soooooo like thhhhhiiisss onnne!!" She purred and cooed and mewed and did all those things that basically meant 'I love the other bag and I will buy it'.
"Oh yes... go ahead... that ones wonderful!"
All this didn't make sense to him but his eyes sparkled brightly and smiled at the thought of how so very simply wonderful and satisfying can meaninglessness be.

Ramprasad Rasiya had fallen in love. And there were things he was doing, worlds he was exploring, songs he was singing, birds he was watching that he had never done, explored, sung or watched before.
And just like everything good in life, love had its strings attached. Sitadevi was one hell of a quiet woman.

Ramprasad Rasiya used to remember his first love, Muniya Maasi's younger daughter Nirali. Something used to happen to him when he saw her. And he clearly remembered that, 'that' something happened somewhere below his stomach. Yes, a little more below.
But with Sitadevi, things were different. Something would happen to him all over. From deep inside to every cell outside. From head to toe. From the tip of the fingers to the center of his heart. And while all this happened, Sitadevi would just sit quietly, or stand quietly whatever was more comfortable for her, and essentially be around him staying quiet and doing nothing consequential. For Ramprasad Rasiya, this was the heaven he had never sought and this was the peace he had never yearned for. After finishing his routine at the new chai dhaba he had started, only because everyone told him he had to earn in order to be able to propose to Sita Devi and marry her, he would look forward to going to the garden just to sit next to a quiet Sitadevi, doing nothing of much consequence.

One day, Sitadevi spoke. She didn't make much sense to Ramprasad Rasiya. But he liked the sound of it. He liked how her lips moved matching the rhythm of her eyes when the sounds came out of her mouth. He liked that now there was something more about her that he didn't understand. There were things she was doing that were making him love her more. Ramprasad Rasiya's entire being felt nice about this pleasant meaninglessness. And it seemed as if this will continue... for good.

"What exactly does Ramu want? What is this supposed to mean?" Janice had a smile on her face as she finished reading and enquired nonchalantly.
"Ok hun! firstly, lets get it straight that my character is Ramprasad Rasiya, not Ramu! and secondly... well the last thing its supposed to do, is to mean anything!"

Jimmy's eyes sparkled and their lips intertwined for another few loving meaningless moments!

Life would go on, behind our backs. Things would never be the same again... for Jimmy, or for Ramprasad Rasiya.

The Beauty and The Stories

2009-05-28T17:47:00.002+05:30

She thought she possibly had some vague idea of a half cooked story probably taking a cloudy little shape in her head.

Knowing her, that was enough.

This would comfortably make for a fascinating fifteen minutes over tea. As I relaxed deeper in my cane chair relishing the cool evening breeze after a not so hard days work, she began.

"Imagine..."

For the next fifteen minutes, that was about all I did as she painted images with words while her eyes danced around like little children, having come late for the puppet show, scampering around to get a better view.

And I imagined.

I imagined how life changes, in a matter of moments, from a bland endless desert to a red, blue, yellow, green, and many more colored underwater coral reef.

I imagined how easy it is to just put your leg up and relish heaven, as you look into the eyes that change colors from happy to chirpy to silent to ecstatic with each line of an imagined story.

I imagined how wonderful it is to imagine, when she tells you, "Imagine...".

Blogger Friends Review "Knots and No Crosses"

2009-05-17T22:23:00.003+05:30

Guys.. reviews have started pouring in for 'Knots And No Crosses - Heartbreak after heartbreak, he still dreams of a perfect wedding...' and needless to say the reaction has been good. Well, what the heck, its actually been overwhelming! I just hope the publisher is able to make it available across enough bookstores for the the book to pick momentum by word of mouth.

The overall review, in short, has been that everyone liked it. Almost no one who picked it up, put it down before finishing it, and everyone thinks its a fantastic first attempt. Some have rated it a notch above 'Five Point Someone' in terms of the entertainment quotient, and more than a few notches in terms of quality of writing!

Am sharing the reviews of some of our blogger friends. For the complete set of reviews check 'The Readers' section of the book website here.

Reviews

"It (Knots And No Crosses) makes for a compulsive reading. It was after maybe three odd years that I read a book in one complete sitting, oblivious of the coffee getting cold on the tableside.

But getting back to the point, one of the best points about the book was the way past and present were not only alternated but linked too, so as to maintain a continuity.. and there would be no guy walking the earth who would not empathise with Akkie at one point or the other in the entire novel...

...all in all, a wonderful read... amazingly well done, because to sustain the tempo is easy for a short story, but to maintain it over the course of a novel takes some doing, and Hitesha is one person who could have, and indeed has, successfully carried it off... *bows in salute* "

- Words from the wise sage Marvin the Paranoid Android, also known as Flight Lieutenant Rishi Verma, 48 Squadron, Indian Air Force

"Oh Boy! What a book... That’s exactly what I said when I was done reading it. I have read Hitesha’s blog so ideally it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did... She has clearly outdone herself.

I simply love the way she takes us through Akki's journey. I know it’s a guy’s story but I could just totally relate to it. I felt like I am "IN" the story, living every moment with Akki... taking me through so many emotions. I smiled, I laughed, I almost cried, things tugged on my heart and I almost suffered heartbreak every time Akki was going through one.

Its fiction, and it still felt so close to life... the uncertainty of life, the achy-breaky heart full of optimism, and not just that, how everything we plan almost never happens and how it can take a totally different direction sometimes. I just simply love the way Akki's story progresses from one relationship to another and how Hitesha takes us through his wedding-to-be.

And guess in which section of my library this book goes to - "Once you pop you can’t stop" ... Really! If you ask me to say something about the book in just two words, I'd say - fresh and frothy (considering that I am a coffee lover J)

Best of Luck Hitesha; hope to see many more books written by you, and hopefully a real romantic story too, soon!"

- Expressed loudly by The Silent Beauty Divkiran Kathuria, Delhi based, Sr Consultant at PwC.

"Gosh! I never knew the plight of a marriageable young man who, like so many women of his age, still believes in falling in love and dream weddings. Hitesha brings a fresh perspective by a mere twist in gender.

This book stands as a lone voice calling attention to the miseries of thirty something unmarried Indian men still optimistic about finding a soul-mate and braving the emotional onslaught from family, friends and the world in general.

It is hilarious, well researched, fresh in concept and immensely contemporary."

- Writer of The Red Bathrobe and Other Stories Prapti Banerjee, Calcutta based, Manager at Aanand Bazaar Patrika

"...really nice.. reminds me of myself he he.. it really (is) a marvellous piece of writing. really like the way (the author) instinctively varies sentence lengths for variety, and use(s) flash back to keep the ball rolling right till the end.. considering young men get dumped all the time, (one) can expect a huge response (to this book)..."

- One of the Three Perfectly Normal Guys Flight Lieutenant Shantanu, 48 Squadron, Indian Air Force

Knots and No Crosses - A Review

2009-05-02T13:05:00.012+05:30

This is a review of the book in the context of the recent "successful debutant Indian author" phenomena.

Debutant Indian Authors
Debutante Indian authors have been making quite some waves recently. The seeds may have been sown with Anurag Mathur's 'The Inscrutable Americans', but there was a hint of a lull thereafter. The current scenario, however, has changed. Right from Chetan Bhagat becoming the reflection of the young Indian voice, to Arvind Adiga picking the Booker on debut, a section of modern Indian fiction seems to be coming of age. This shift is also characterised by changes in language, flow and appeal of the content. The urban woman oriented themes, clubbed as 'chick lit', are becoming more rampant and gaining popularity. Books like 'Almost Single' by Advait Kala, that has sold around 2000 copies by now, or the lesser known 'Pink or Black' by Tishaa, both debut novels, reflect this trend.
To add to this, is the trend of blogging that is proving to be a wonderful platform for a number of aspiring authors to test and hone their craft before attempting anything mainstream. So we have the likes of Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan, trying her pen via the blog 'The Complusive Confessor' and then landing a contract with a major publication for her debut novel 'You Are Here'.

Knots and No Crosses - The Book
Hitesha Deshpande, making her debut with the book "Knots and No Crosses", falls in a similar league. Having had a strong following on her blog 'Wild Imagination' (just one of over 5-6 well read fiction blogs that she has created over last few years), she has now come up with her debut novel. The brevity of her narration and her tact of connecting multiple threads of a story, and literally forcing the reader to remain glued to the book is most notable. The way the author connects one chapter to the other and how the story moves back and forth in time in a smooth and exciting manner displays her instinctive craftsmanship at story telling. Amusingly titled as 'Knots and No Crosses', roller coasters could learn a thing or two from this one hell of a reading ride.
The story is about a young small town lad called Akkie and his multiple relationships in life, culminating into the holy grail of an intended perfect wedding. A wedding that nightmarishly turns out to be almost everything except, perfect. The book captures multiple emotions and thought processes of the characters in a hilarious and crisp manner. Right from the comical description of the parental pressure of marital expectations and the ways to avoid them, to the almost insane behavior of a bride getting cold feet right before the day of the wedding, the book pulls you into its plot page by page. Weaved in between the wedding drama, is the past of this small town boy with big dreams, his multiple relationships and how he grows through them. Each relationship teaching him something about life, each relationship giving him something except what he wanted, but all of them ripping his emotions apart with equal mercilessness. The tagline of the book wonderfully captures the thought - 'Heartbreak after heartbreak, he still dreams of a perfect wedding...'.

The story is imaginatively rich with anecdotal details and displays good understanding of the subtleties of human behaviour on the author's part. For eg. this scene at the dinner table where young Akki has decided to boldly express to his father (and uncles) his intent of moving out of Jodhpur, to go to Pune to study Commerce and Germen, while the "women hovered around pretending to serve, but not wanting to miss out on even a bit of this exchange. It would make excellent gossip as they dried mangoes for their pickles on the terrace, the next afternoon."
The book also grips you with an interesting unexpected twist that makes it all the more worthwhile a read. Without revealing much more of the plot, let me just say that this book is a great fun read, where each chapter makes you crave for the next and you can't stop until you are done with it all! If you are the type looking for a light humorous gripping read, and don't care that time flies by while you are at it, then this is just the right thing to pick. Once you pick it up, you just can't put it down!

Book Site - http://knotsandnocrosses.com/

PS.
I am sure all of you will enjoy "Knots and No Crosses". You are welcome to share your reviews of the book. The same shall be published on the book website.

Knots and No Crosses now on Rediff Books :)

2009-04-13T21:31:00.002+05:30

Knots and No Crosses is now available on rediff books with free shipping all across India! :)

PS.

And I am quite impressed with the rediff guys. There was some mistake in the blurb of the book on the rediff website, as given to them by the publisher. We sent a mail to them and they have responded promptly!

:) - The website is up!

2009-04-10T09:03:00.004+05:30

The update is that we have worked a little to get the book site going...

(For all ameteurs let me tell you that 110mb.com is a wonderful FREE wesite creation and hosting service...)

anyway.. back to the point... Check: http://knotsandnocrosses.com/ for all the details of the book and how to order it...

The story moves ahead...

2009-04-06T12:08:00.006+05:30

Yeah… long time haan!

No Ramprasad Rasiya… no Jimmy… no chilling stories either. I missed you guys a lot… However, now is the time to let you know why…. just watch it!

And while the video downloads, let me tell you that apart from a few not so important things, I was busy getting "Beauty and The Beast" published... her first book was out from the printer last saturday ( 4th april 2009) and should hit the market within 10-15 days!

The details...

What's the book called?
Knots and No Crosses – Heartbreak after heartbreak, he still dreams of a perfect wedding...

What's the book about? Authorspeak
The wave of ‘feminism’ has swept over the world and empowered women to shout out from rooftops. They are forever harnessing attention by drawing the mind towards a range of problems starting with PMS, labour pains and now the marital market. The marital market is unfair on the women of today!
Every single time I have read a book about a thirty something single woman warring with the pressures of an Indian prejudiced marital mind set, I have wanted to scream, “STOP!” The marital expectations of an Indian society do not limit themselves to the gender. A thirty four year old male.could also be labeled a ‘thirty something single man’ vexed with his family for goading him into marrying.
So I decided to write about it. I decided to write about, how when it comes to relationships and weddings, life really isn’t all that simple for anybody, male or female. I decided to start with writing about a wedding.

Sneak Peek
"The woman he had no intentions of loving, but who he did love, hopelessly. The woman he had no intentions of dating, but had ended up committing himself to. The woman who had always been four years elder to him, but realized it only when she was about to hit London for a PG course.
The woman who had gotten into the car, without looking back once as he stood there on the empty streets outside the institute, nursing a broken heart."

Akkie’s relationships have followed a trial and error pattern. He finally meets the one woman who completes him. They both plan their ‘dream wedding’, only, the wedding turns out to be anything but a dream! As Akkie, tries to placate his agitated bride three days before their wedding, his past catches up with him, spelling disaster after disaster. The crunching blow, comes when the son of his first ever girlfriend calls Akkie ‘Papa’ in front of a room filled to capacity with the Bride’s family. The wedding gets called off. But Akkie knows, there is no one else for him, but her…

Indian Political League – The Other side

2009-03-24T14:32:00.002+05:30

Agreed that the Indian cricket fan is a fanatic, and although there is but a fine line between fanaticism and foolishness, I would like to believe that the Indian cricket fan errs on the side of the lesser evil.

One of the most significant statements of year 2009 would be the one made by our home minister Mr. P Chidambaram. “IPL is a shrewd combination of sports and business. No need to add politics to it.” I am a cricket fan. And if I were to be a fanatic, I’d rephrase it and say, “Mr Lalit Modi is a shrewd combination of sports, business and politics. There’s a need to exterminate pests like him who are harming the spirit of the game.” I am sure there is another set of fanatical cricket fans, who might say, “Oh wait! I love to watch cricket and IPL is a treat. Let it go on.” I don’t know who is right.

Fortunately for Mr Modi, I am not a fanatic and that probably puts me on the side of the fools. Fools, who are too blind to notice the blatant financial and political aspirations of many hinged around their unconditional love for the game. A cricket fan wants to watch cricket. But even the most dedicated of them would realize the unnecessary jingoism Mr. Lalit Modi is attaching to conducting IPL this year. Given the quantum of cricket already happening, one needs an insensitive brattish brain like Mr. Modi’s in order to subject the cricketer’s to harsher schedules. I am sure Dhoni’s men would welcome the break if IPL was to be cancelled this year.

Even more appalling than the ‘small’ headedness of Lalit Modi (Trivia – Lalit means ‘small’), is the sly anti-national sentiments of some of our political leaders. How dumb does one need to be to question the security during the commonwealth games, given that the entire security apparatus will be free of the general elections load at that point of time? And to think of it, there was a time when one thought BJP was a party of the intellectuals, like our well versed and educated Mr. Jaitely. These political stalwarts forget that their statements will be picked upon by media and will contribute to tarnishing India’s image internationally. A small domestic private tournament, which is primarily a money circus, being shifted out of India is not a national shame. I don’t need to say further when Mr. Chidambaram has already given a befitting reply. It’s probably a sensible move. Even more sensible a would gave probably been scrapping it altogether. The team does need rest.

I wish there was some single voice that represented the Indian Cricket Fans. Let us assume that there was one. So what might this voice say at this point of time?

1. I think the IPL is over-rated. But just because everyone in the media is saying it’s a huge success, maybe it is. I don't know. I am still waiting for the T-20 world cup, the Champions League and the 2011 world cup with much more eagerness.

2. I love to watch cricket, but not so much of it that it loses its charm. Rare ODI's used to be so much fun. And these days, we are also getting more results in Test matches. Tactics and strategies are more aggressive. It fun to watch a test match slowly unveil itself like a gripping novel.

3. OK fine, IPL may be fun, but then wasn't there an ICL that started before it? What happened to that? I am sure if the BCCI had not stopped the mainstream players from playing in ICL, by banning ICL, it would have been a success. Who is BCCI to ban them anyway? Is it a registered entity? I don’t know? What the heck, how do I care? Hey wait, but how come BCCI is also banning cricketers associated with ICL from doing commentary in international matches! Whoa, something sure is wrong there.

4. The terrorists are all around us. General elections are deciding the future of the country. If some messy thing ereto happen during this time, it isn’t good for anyone. Why doesn't BCCI simply postpone the tournament? What will they lose? A chance to earn more money?

The only reason why the BCCI is so cash rich, and Lalit Modi so impudent, is due to the huge base of Indian Cricket Fans. I wonder if we have a voice! And I wonder if we want to put forward a point and make sure that our love for the game is not misused for political and financial ends.

And so on...

2009-01-14T20:35:00.015+05:30

|
He knew exactly how to express his thoughts.

Its a big thing you know. To be able to make someone else think exactly what you are thinking! But the usual ways were not for him to follow. A storyteller at heart, and sometimes even at other copiously blood drenched parts of his body, he always expressed with a glint in his eyes. Like this one instance where just before gagging one of his victims to death, his eyes glinted the word "murder". And that's precisely what the victim began to think.
Boy! did he know how to express his thoughts.

As all of you huddle together around him, absorbing the warmth of the imaginary fireplace in this mildly chilling night, only as cold as melting ice-cream, he reserves a few glints for what is yet to happen. He shall speak some, and hide some more. These pieces of stories, like the one about that murderer with glinting eyes, and so on...

Ramprasad Rasiya and the darker side of midnight

2008-11-18T17:06:00.002+05:30

It was a usual morning. The same grey clouds hovered in threatening circles, in the same dull blue sky. The same cracked earth, crumbled under every footstep. The same feet followed the same pattern as they made their way to the same destination. There was nothing different in Ramprasad’s life. It never had been. He didn’t expect it to be. He just moved from one day to another in the same ritual, every twenty four hours.

When he reached the restaurant, he expected to see the same people he saw everyday and do the things he usually did. He would boil gallons of milk, add the same amount of sugar to the same amount of tea and serve with the same smile; he had served with all these past days. So it was quite a disturbance to see new faces milling around the restaurant at this early hour.

It did not cross his mind to question this oddity, so he just filed it away as a mild disturbance in his regular life. As he approached the growing crowds, Bhalla came running to him and collapsed in his arms in a torrent of tears. Ramprasad was quite taken aback. Unused to any display of human emotions, he didn’t know how to react. He knew if Dulari, the cow, came and nuzzled his hand, he ought to feed her some more hay. He did not know what to do with Bhalla, who was lighter than the cow, but heavier to carry at this point of time.

“When did this happen?” Jimmy asked the smiling old man, who was not smiling anymore.
“Sometime during the midnight,” the old man answered. “A bad stroke was all it took to squeeze out forty seven years of healthy life. Just one bad stroke.” The old man shook his head and patted Jimmy on the shoulder.

Jimmy tried to sense the sorrow behind the words, but he could feel only regret. Regret that the owner of the restaurant had passed away. What did Jimmy feel for the restaurant owner, whose very restaurant had supplied him his much needed chai, all these years?

Just regret that with the owner gone, he will have to search for a new place who would cater to his tea-demands, where he could carry his laptop and write…

Ramprasad watched as the body was laid out on the stretcher. He didn’t say a word as the body was covered with golden yellow flowers. He didn’t know what to say. He did not feel anything. When Bhalla had told him that Bhauji had passed away, Ramprasad’s first thoughts had gone to Dulari. What will happen to Dulari?

With this thought in mind, he watched the scene unfold in front of him. He did not quite see the point of decorating a body, before setting fire to it. It was such a waste. But then, it was not Ramprasad’s duty to think. So he just stood there and watched and thought of Dulari.

Jimmy watched the burning end of his cigarette, flicked some ash off the tip. You burn out like a cigarette. If you are not watching the cigarette will keep burning till the end becomes the tip and all that remains is ash. He crunched the cigarette under his heel and stared at the old man.

The restaurant owner had been in debt. He had left a grieving wife behind. She had three children to support. She had never had to work. All she had ever done was cook in the restaurant. But the restaurant was being confiscated to clear the debt. The old man was pacifying her with false hopes.

Jimmy knew he could help. But he did not know why he should help…

When the time came to carry the body, the stretcher was hoisted on four shoulders. Ramprasad smiled. It amused him that when alive it took only two feet to carry the same weight. Death definitely made one heavier.

Words With A Heart

2008-10-23T01:21:00.002+05:30

And these are the moments, this is the time,
When these wandering words of mine,
Dumbed against choice,
Need that sound, that music, that voice.

When I feel, and feel it from deep within,
When I feel so bad that it hurts, and when
I feel the words pouring on their own,
When I feel not like saying much, of what I have known.
And I write them still, I utter them loud,
In me when I have a voice, and I want to get it out,
I need you to know, that I may not always do,
But when I do say them, I love saying them to you,
I love to be there, all around, everywhere,
I love to share your pain, making you smile,
I love watching you - the bird, the doll, the child.
I want you to know, that I may not mean much,
But when I think of you, I dream of a healing touch.
I wish I had more, to these bland wandering words,
These words of mine, dumbed against choice,
Need that sound, that music, that voice.

When you want to hear them, and go "say something nice",
I think of saying them, aloud and clear,
Adorned with wings, and with things like orchids,
Adorned with life, with love and cheer,
I say them to you now,
These words of mine, they were dumbed against choice,
Now have a heart... now have a voice.

Today... I Just Know

2008-10-07T08:49:00.007+05:30

This day has mostly been introspective for me. Bordering on sadness and an aloof sense of loneliness. Each year I have tried to rationalise these feelings. Attempted to draw my own profound conclusions about how relevant the existentialist thinkers have been and how life is almost always, especially on this day, no better than a unintentionally cruel, huge and indifferent question mark.
I have never been the one to celebrate this day, but ever since I have stepped away from home, this day of each year has left me more lonely than the year before. At times I have been in the middle of more than twenty people, all gathered only for me, all partying all night only for me, hopping from one corner of a bright night city to the other, only for me, and I seem to enjoy it all while in my heart I have never felt more lonely. At times I have walked for miles soaking everything around me, and come back feeling as empty as I was when I had started. At times, I have tried to let it pass, only to realise that it would be stupid to assume that its the day that 'causes' the questions. It doesn't. The questions probably exist and stay dormant throughout the year. Patiently waiting for me to lend an ear to them. And thats what the day has mostly ended up being like.

But today is different. Today is peaceful and today, for once, makes me feel content. Today I feel I am doing the right things in life. I feel I am doing what I am supposed to do. After years of having spent this day in a mesh of complicated thoughts and directionless questions, today comes as the simplest possible answer to every question that I could have possibly imagined. And the simplicity of the answer is matched only by its beauty. Just like the questions, that usually hit you more like a cloud of thought than a set of words weaved into a sentence, even the answers don't easily lend themselves to general articulation.
I know I have it, I have sensed it and I am peaceful in the knowledge that I now don't have to look for it.
This answer is the best gift I have ever got and will ever get. This answer, that I could have never expected in my wildest possible imagination, has marked me for life and I know that whatever may happen tomorrow, my life has already got the meaning that it was so thirsty for.
I just know.

For all of us reach a point in our lives, when... we just know.

The Nightmare

2008-09-30T18:47:00.000+05:30

The man in the clean white suit was waving the five rupee note at him. The man's face had a blank expression and he seemed to be standing in the middle of nowhere. The five rupee note was what he had dreamed of having. All day, every day, every minute, minute after minute. He reached out to the man and took the note. This was so exciting. He was finally getting what he wanted. After all those moments of toil, anticipation, excitement and effort, he had finally reached close to where he thought he could be.
Every minute, the man in the clean white suit would extend a single 5 rupee note to him and he would gladly accept it and they both would wait for the next minute. And so on and on it went. There was a broad smile on his face but the man in the white suit stood stoic and blank. As the clock hit the 59th minute of the 8th hour, there was an almost unnoticeable tinge of sadness. Of the thing being over. But then he knew that tomorrow will come, and he would again be doing what he had always wanted to do.

Even before he realised, the next day had begun. And also began the event-less predictable cycle of five rupee notes being doled out every minute. Today, as he hit the 59th minute of the 8th hour, he felt a very slight sense of relief. A sense of the anticipation that as the next minute arrives, the day would finally be over. 60th minute it was and the same hand reached out towards the pocket and pulled out yet another five rupee note. And he accepted it with the same practiced sense of indifferent obligation. Except that this time he was glad about this being the last note for the day.

The next day again came in a hurry. And the man in the clean white suit again got going. This was slowly becoming unbearable. Everything seemed so mundane and uninspiring. And the five rupee note didn't hold that value anymore. It didn't seem sufficient anymore to add spice and excitement to the painfully boring repetitive process. He felt an extreme sense of emptyness and started thinking of ways to get himself out of this cycle. The five rupee notes didn't make sense anymore. He wanted to scream, and he wanted to look for something else. His eyes wandered from one end of the white milky emptyness to the other end. He was desperate. He knew what would make a difference. He just knew it. Just like he had known the last time when he had ventured out in search of the five rupee note.
Yes.
What he wanted now was a 10 rupee note. All day. Every day. Every minute. Minute after minute.

Ramprasad Rasiya & The Struggle

2008-09-16T11:55:00.003+05:30

Ramprasad Rasiya has been struggling. Struggling to survive. Worse than a dead horse being whipped, he has been unable to revive his inconsequential existence and Jimmy has been feeling lame, nobody giving him the blame. Jimmy tried. He tried to write about revival and rejuvenation. But that doesnt happen on things that are meant to be un-alive. Ramprasad Rasiya was never meant to be alive and hence no revival made sense. Jimmy tried roping Gerry in, and tried to write about an argument about Apples to prove that a discussion on Oranges has nothing to do with Bananas. Even this didn't make sense because they are all fruits at the end of the day. Jimmy felt utterly exhausted on being told by Gerry that they are all fruits at the begining of the day as well. It didn't solve any purpose. Because that wasn't the point. He tried using rhetoric to show that when two people are discussing two different things they cant be a part of the same discussion. And if there is nobody else present except those two, then one of them is bound to feel mad discussing something with no one, and even madder looking at the other one not realising that he or she is also doing the same. And everyone knows that being mad doesn't help.

Anyone.

Then there was another extended argument on carrying multiple fruits. For example, if one is carrying Oranges then that doesnt mean that one cant be carrying Apples also. Carrying one fruit does not negate the possibility of carrying other fruits. But it sure is possible that one may not be carrying Apples, but Bananas. All this started getting beyond comprehension. And unbearable. No one had ever felt so misunderstood in life as Jimmy and his arguments and Ramprasad Rasiya and his non existence.

The helplessness of being unable to explain your helplessness can really make you feel the worst kind of helpless you ever can feel. And then its a vortex!

Jimmy realised that usually there is no end to an argument, whether its with yourself or with anyone else. And he realised that just because we have a point doesn't mean we are right and just becasue we are right doesnt mean that the other person is wrong. And howsoever we may love to stress on Truth and Love, we must try and see that it all finally boils down to Peace and Happiness, respectively.

Although this was important, but this had nothing to do with Ramprasad Rasiya. And thats precisely the point that never got across. And good that it didn't get across because what did get across was much more profound and meaningful.

That happiness is more important than love.

And peace is more important than truth.

One could argue that they are all connected somewhere. But then no one knows where exactly that somehwhere is. One can sense that happiness is much easier to feel while love can have its shades. That peace is much easier to feel but truth can have its contexts.

May be Ramprasad Rasiya can explore this. May be he can find if he has felt more comfort in peace or truth, assuming they were not connected. May be he can tell us that, if at all he felt, then would he rather feel happy or feel loved. Assuming they were not connected.

But then, Ramprasad Rasiya has been struggling.

And thus, Jimmy wrote...

"Ramprasad Rasiya has been struggling..."

One Simply Hell Of a Night

2008-08-30T09:49:00.009+05:30

What I am about to describe was one memorable night. In every way.

Key Characters 1. Mr Aashish Ahuja - My friend, guide, philosopher and Aristotle known to me since 8 years. We have just shifted to a new house in sector 35 Noida.
2. Yours Truly
3. The Junior Engineer

Key Locations
1. Our House in Sector 35
2. Ilario and Costa Coffee shops in Atta market
3. The Electricity Board
4. Sumitra Hospital
5. The accident spot where a small red car that was stomped over by a 6 wheel truck
6. The Hotel That had AC Luxury Rooms

Have you ever known what it feels like to be the focal point of a storm, the reason of creation, being the behind the scenes strategist of some extremely critical development? I was thinking of myself as all this, no less than Chanakya hmself, after having successfully arranged and launched a particular campaign (that I can't name due to reasons of confidentiality) yesterday. And I was ecstatic at coming back home early for the successful launch meeting. Little did I know that the feeling would continue, albeit a bit morphed.
Just as I refreshed myself and set up my laptop to share all the fun with my girl, there was a sudden power cut. Now, its cool. In Noida its expected once in a while. I was pretty sure that it wouldnt last beyond an hour. But the story of this long night, my friends, had just begun.
Reality almost struck after about an hour of heat and misery and no power. So me and my friend Mr Ahuja decided to go down to Ilario, the air conditioned coffee shop with a wi-fi, relying on our ever so dumb but trustworthy maid to call us when the power is back.
Its 10.30 and Ilario decides to shut shops. No phone call from home yet. We ask our maid to check if there is power in nearby houses. And the insipid unsure response makes us laugh at our fate.
"Not her fault." says my friend. "If they knew any better, they wouldn't be doing what they are doing!"
I nod in complete peaceful agreement.

So we move our lazy arses to Costa Coffee for spending some more time in comfort, and debate the merits of the idea of a concept restaurant called "Lights Out", that provides extremely comfortable air conditioning and possible discounts during power failures, meant only for towns like Noida and other second level (Milk & Honey towns) where power failures are frequent.
By now its 11.40 and Costa wants to close too! Now what?
We reluctantly drag ourselves back to our sector and check with the security guard at the main gate for the status of the power.
"Sir! kucchh information toh hamein bhi di gayi hai power cut ki! (Some information about power failure has been shared with us as well!)" he beams a proud smile at us, as if the entire responsibility of the electricity board had just been entrusted upon him, and fumbles around with his register. Even before we heave a sigh of relief, that its not just us after all, he adds, "Sarsath number mein bhi bijli nahin hai Sahab! (Theres no power in No. 67 as well Sir).
Thats OUR house number. Well, so we ARE screwed.
We reach home and furtively check all DP switches for any trips. No clue. And we begin our hunt for THE Electricity board office.
This, my friends was a killer. This board's location could have easily been part of a spooky treasure hunt
We are directed near Prakash hospital, and enter a dark, silent, unlit, slip road with a care center for special people to our right. This is where we were told, the board was supposed to be. We see an eerie dead-end beyond which there are nothing but bushes, giving a feeling of a cemetery. We backtrack thinking we had turned wrong. We ask another petrol pump chap and he redirects us to the SAME road. We are amused and go back and decide to explore the dead end. Whoa! suddenly a right turn appears, hidden amidst bushes and broken tree trunks. We enter and keep moving. NO sign of life, light or electricity. Quite not like where an Electricity Board should be! Inspite of all our efforts we end up taking an entire round and reach back on the main road.
THIS cant be happening!!

We ask a traffic cop this time and he again directs us towards the SAME obscure road, saying we need to take a left into a "thin" road somewhere in between! OK then.
So here we are again, near a hospital/care center for special people, reaching a cemetery like dead end, turning right into a sudden unexpected pathway and looking for a "thin" road on left. And we see... something.
"No. It cant be THAT thin!" I exclaim in surprise. Mr Ahuja bursts out laughing. We decide to turn into what seems like a booby trap. The road is just enough for the bushes to graze the sides of my car without slowing it below 20kmph! Also, there isnt ANY office or buliding in sight! This area was way too silent and lonely and the landscape very eerie. We contemplate conspiracy theories where electricity board guys cut power of some houses and con innocent residents into coming to a place like this and loot and kill them. We havn't even moved like 200m when suddenly, almost like a black magicians spell, The Electricity Board springs up on our left!
Wow! Finally!

After a mini celebration about how we can share these stories with our grandchildren, we enter the gate. Everythings locked. We call a number written above the main counter window. A cell phone rings nearby and a sleepy voice agrees to step out of what seemed like a locked door.
The chap breaks the news to us that the electricity has been cut due to non-payment of arrears. And he cant do anything now even if we pay him an extra buck. We try all tricks but the guy doesn't budge. Apparently the bill amount is very high! We are least concerned now, and we just want the power! Its 12.30 and my never-give-up friend Mr Ahuja decides to call the JE!
As he explains in his not-so-humble-and-requesting a tone that we need the power for the night as we are only tenants who have hardly stayed here for a few weeks, the sleepy JE looses his temper!
"Ek toh bill nahin bharte hain or upar se der raat call kar ke tang karte hain!" (On one hand you guys dont pay your bills and then you disturb us by calling late at night!!) and he cuts the line rudely.
My now calm friend thinks to himself and to me, quite blankly I must say, "Yaar baat toh woh theek keh raha hai!". I can't control my laughter on this sudden change of his emotions towards the situation!
I decide to message my landlady, so that she at least responds first thing in the morning!

So well, now that we have been having fun and there is no way of having power back before next morning, what are the options now? We debated that we could spend time till early hours in the all night coffee shop of Radisson, may be find a friend to lend us a couch, or possibly look for a hotel/hospital/guest house anything with AC!?
This debate also led us to an amusing realisation that all our friends are either married or living with their families (thats basically because we have 2 close friends around. 1 is married and other is living with his family!)
We decide to charge our cellphones first, as we would need them first thing next day morning, and go to the Sumitra Hospital security post, very close to our house. They have a 24 hour canteen! We buy a sprite and my friend suddenly finds someone at the reception and enquires for a bed in the hospital!
"AC please! How much?" he says. The guy responds saying Rs.1300 for the room, but that he needs to check if its available.
Here let me add that my friend is a self confessed AC addict. He believes that the second best invention by man, after AC, is the wheel. I am not too kicked with the idea of looking for a room in a hospital.
"Isnt it just too weird to spend the night in a hospital bed?!" I argue.
He retorts, "My friend, if I have the AC I could sleep with rats around!". I cant argue further.

Fortunately (for me) there is no AC room available. While we are charging the phone, we decide to walk around in our locality and are amazed at the quality of beautiful buildings around. We curse them for enjoying their time while we spend the night in misery. We suddenly find a huge house that almost looks like a guest house and has like 6 AC's jutting out from one side wall! We reach the main gate of this place only realise that its a private residence!
Well, so there we were, at 1.30 am, reliving our college days when we used to spend nights roaming around on roads of chandigarh, having coke and discussing "A Brief History Of Time" line by line! Having a good time, I guess, is only about making the best of an opportunity! Any opportunity.

My friend then had a brainwave. He knew a decent hotel in Noida that has AC rooms and isn't too far away from our place. And that its very much within our budgets. I go along as I am neutral to the requirement of AC given that the weather was now bearable. Its 2.00 am by now.
We have hardly moved out of our sector when we witness an amazing accident of a 6wheel truck with a small red car at an intersection! The truck had STOMPED all over the car and the car was stuck under the truck now. It was hopeless. We were partially feeling lucky that its not us and decide to drive very carefully, almost in shock.
We were moving in a small red car!
My friend switches on the parking lights, and we decide to go real slow. Amused at all that trucks can do. He goes, "That car guy must have seen the latest SX4 ad and got carried away!".
Its then that we suddenly realise that theres a HUGE truck right ahead of us and instead of going farther away, its actually is moving closer to us! The sight of my friend's panic was worth capturing, given that we were moving at 20kmph and the truck was backing at not more than 4-5!! Still I take a detour.
As we are driving towards the place, I generally ask him how does he know about the hotel.
"I stayed there almost 4 years ago, for some Jubilant work!"
"What?!?!?" I cant stop laughing. I was like, "What do you expect?? Even if the place still exists, the prices wont be the same!!"
And apparently the place had been shifted (although my friend denies my claim now) and there was a posh SPICE telecom office building in the same spot.

NOW WHAT?... we realise that there is nothing much to do and there might be more hotels in the area so we keep driving when we suddenly see a neon board saying "AC Luxury Rooms available". Hurray! This looked like the Holy Grail! We finally find a decent place. At the counter, my friend asks for a room for 2 only for the night.
Now let me tell you that it can get a little embarrassing. 2 guys asking for a room for one night! I was forced to add, that actually our land lords have not paid the bill and the power has been cut so we are sort of in trouble!
Anyway. We enter the room. The AC seemed to be bringing the temperature down @ 1 degree per hour. Yet it was much better.

Tired, we both fall asleep.

PS.
1. My car was safe until next morning. (Yes this may sound out of context, but is important for me.)
2. The hotel was not as cheap as my friend had envisaged. We were in a Rs 2500 room. I bargained the deal for a grand and closed it.
3. The landlady called early morning and promised to sort out the issue, which DID get sorted out by 5.00pm. So we are comfortable as of now, just in case you are concerned.
4. And remember the JE? We called him again. He said that the unpaid arrears on our house were... Rs 1,75,000!

Well... one hell of a night it was! :)

For her...

2008-08-27T22:15:00.004+05:30

I wrote a few things and I trashed them in my imaginary digital waste paper basket! (Its always a good sign when you trash your own words many times before you actually write something worthwhile, and then trash that again, because you just found something even more apt and worth writing. Its a good sign because you know that now what you are writing, really matters.)

I was trying to create poetry about how she has painted life with love, and how she can sing on a canvas and write on hearts. How her passions flow like wild winds, invisible yet powerful. I was writing about how she can teach "peace" a thing or two because when she really needs to be held, she just... lets you. I was thinking about how she is the evidence that the wait is always worth it!
And so on and on I went, and realised there was no end to it, for there is no end to her charm, goodness and beauty.

So, I think the only thing really worth writing is that... I have found someone I will happily spend the rest of my life with.

Life Still Hectic

2008-08-21T18:44:00.002+05:30

Have shifted houses within Noida and have been literally displaced. Hathway guys do not have their broadband network in the new sector that I shifted in so it has taken 20 days for me to get a new Internet connection.

Meanwhile... Trippin Thru has been updated with our Khajuraho trip!

enjoy..

RR is planning a come back soon.

चीर्स :)

So what exactly have I(we) been upto?

2008-07-20T09:53:00.004+05:30

It all started with a comment on my blog by a certain "beauty and the beast". As time went by, 'Crimson Feet' and 'Beauty and the Beast' began chatting, and talking. Ever since, they have not stopped. Every free moment has been spent talking and getting to know each other better. And still theres always so much more!

So we decided to go for a trip to Leh. Although we returned back from Sarchu (midway bet Manali and Leh) as 'the Beauty' fell ill, yet, every moment was worth it.

We are in love and how!

We have created this blog called Trippin Thru, where we will be capturing all our travels. Starting Delhi-Manali-Sarchu and back. First post is up, and the second will be there soon. A trip to Khajuraho is on the cards next.

Long Bloody Time

2008-07-07T17:35:00.002+05:30

I have been away for far too long। But trust me I am gonna catch up on as much of all of you as possible!..
as far as the explanation of my absence goes, it should suffice to say that ...

इश्क ने घालीब निकम्मा कर दिया,
वरना हम भी आदमी थे काम के !

चीर्स!

:)

Ramprasad Rasiya & The Apple Of Knowledge

2008-06-12T15:30:00.006+05:30

Jimmy had been shivering all night lying in the bath-tub. His body should have been physically numb and senseless by now while his mind was buzzing with activity, imagination, thoughts and dreams. But there was no way for the mind to figure out either. He had injected himself with a mildly high dose of the Triple Monoamine Neurotansmitters and had knowingly had a drink thereafter. He wanted the drug to take its effect faster and intensify the difference between brain activity and body movements. He had poured all the ice cubes. In the tub. He wanted his mind to move at the speed of light, while his body remained listlessly submerged in cold water.
His body was shivering, but his mind was as stiff as anything that can be stiff enough to not be affected by pain, danger, fear or lack of the right dreams. There were no sharks in the tub, but his mind had made itself believe that it was strong enough to handle the sharks just in case they lost their way into his bath tub. That was all that the mind could handle. External lost sharks.
But what the mind could never handle was the difficulty of grasping that feeling, that one weird emotion that had been hitting his heart when he closed his eyes and his soul began to wander in nothingness. When he didn't have the dream he so badly wanted to have. When he was unable to see what 'could be', and what had 'never been'. He wanted his eyes to roll into themselves and move furtively, rapidly, under the safety of the closed eye-lids, and under the influence of the dream inducing neurotransmitters, because he just didn't know how to handle the feeling of not having that dream that he, after all, so badly wanted to have!
He had been unable to move Ramprasad Rasiya's life forward. He felt cheated by his own imagination and there was nothing that he could do to undo this feeling. Only way out was to make Ramprasad Rasiya breathe again.
But how? Dreams need a start. Imagination needs a spark. Life needs a paradoxical begining. Everything needs that one snap which pushes it from one orbit into the next. And this was obviously going to be tough now. It were his trips to the Indian style restaurant and his midnight moon-gazing that had been fueling his imagination so far. But now, neither was there any Indian style restaurant on the Moon, nor... but of course, could the Moon be seen in its own sky! The thoughts of Earth were moon-shatteringly depressing and there was nothing inspiring about a dying planet.

Gerry (shocked at seeing him sitting naked in the tub) - "Oh Jimmy!... what are you doing here? (pause) Don't tell me you have been sitting here all night?"
Jimmy (without looking at her): Could you make me some really strong coffee Gerry?
Gerry (Perplexed. Walks close to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, her thumb caressing his collar bone): You want it here? While you are in the tub? You alright jimmy? I am getting worried!
Jimmy: Make it black!
Gerry (Knowing there was no point pushing him further, slowly moves away to make some coffee)
Jimmy (Cries out to her while she is preparing the coffee): Tell me something Gerry! What would you do if you were still on earth and no way had been invented to reach and inhabit the Moon? What would you have done had you lived half a century ago, when your dream of living on the Moon was nothing more than exactly that, JUST a dream? What would happen if you had no way of making your dream a reality? What would you do Gerry, if you didn't have your dream at all?
Gerry (almost snaps in a matter of fact tone): I'd just dream of something else Jimmy! Simple.
This felt very satisfying.

Ramprasad Rasiya never knew what made some people look upto other people and consider them great or special. He had been told that people like Bhagwan Ram, Jesus Christ, Mohammad, Gautam Budhha were very special. They knew "something" that others didn't. And they were better off because they knew that "something". It did not seem right. Why didn't they clearly tell everyone else that "something", so that others could be better off too? If their knowledge was what made them special, peaceful and enlightened, why not just share that knowledge with the guy sitting next to them and let everyone be happy?
And if their greatness had nothing to do with the knowledge, but was because of the kind of people they were, than could someone as common a human being as Ramprasad Rasiya himself, ever dream of being peaceful and happy all his life?
Something was wrong. He "knew", but he didn't "understand". Possibly, they did share the knowledge so that everyone knew, but no one ever understood!
Ramprasad Rasiya suddenly knew that he had understood what he wouldn't understand. He had understood that may be they knew and could make others know. But they couldn't make others understand. No one can make others understand. One has to understand himself! Know, understand, knowledge, understanding. Each level of knowledge can be comprehended only through that level of understanding. Ramprasad Rasiya needed to snap into another level.

Ramprasad Rasiya was walking along with these thoughts in his mind when he heard a shriek of a women. He was glad and surprised to see that she was selling apples and that the shriek was actually her sales call. He went upto her and asked,
"What do you want in your life?"
"I want to sell all my apples."
"And what happens when you sell all of them?"
"I buy myself and my kids some food, and go to bed peacefully."
"Have you ever thought that there could be something more to your life than selling apples?"
"If you are not interested in buying my apples then please tell me so. I have a long way to cover."

Ramprasad Rasiya thought for a few extended moments. He then bought two apples, and told her that she was special.