Dejavu

Women in My life

2011-07-05T23:11:00.001-07:00

The people who matter
In my life are all women
Now I do have a daughter
But don’t yet have a son

I am a guy and straight
So have wife not husband
Though we often fight
We are still hand in hand

Last year my dad passed away
Thankful I still have my mother
Have a sister who holds sway
To bother I don’t have a brother

Android

2010-12-17T23:08:00.001-08:00

My first post from my android. Hope this helps me write more often

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

Girl from Fantasy

2010-12-01T00:11:00.000-08:00

Saw an old diary on the table. Scribbled in there was a incomplete poem that i wrote sometime in 2004.
Girl From Fantasy
________________
I ran up the stairs of fantasy
Icould not believe what I saw
I tried to believe, all is fallacy
But there she stood without a flaw

She was a dancer of ultimate grace
Her eyes twinled a brilliant blue
Cannot find words to decribe her face
There i stood gaping, without a clue

Of a Death in Dreams

2010-09-06T10:49:00.000-07:00

Ravi was afraid to sleep. He feared that something might happen to Angelita if he slept. Angelita was his dream friend, a friend whose life unfolded to him through his dreams. It was few months back that he realized that his dreams were a sequence. And he vividly remembered Angelita. Angelita was from Corpus Christy in Texas, US. Ravi was in Delhi, India. He often wondered why their lives were entwined through a dream. He was sure though,.that she existed. He refused to believe that she was a figment of his imagination. It was not possible for him, for he knew every single small detail about her.

When she first appeared before him it was like he knew her for ages. The racial, age, cultural and status barriers did not prevent him from having an instant liking for her. She was a retired stripper. She was still pretty with light blue eyes and an angelic face. But her body now reflected the marks of 3 childbirths. She was living with Mondo, her third husband. Mondo was an immigrant construction worker from Mexico. She had a year old kid from Mondo named Jayden. She was not fat but her form was slowly losing its shape. Her kids from previous marriage stayed with her mother. A small but happy family, he thought till he came to know about Valerie.

Valerie was a runaway. She was 20 and she could not come to terms with the restrictions that were put on her by her parents. Her parents were too orthodox for her liking. As every freethinking American she longed to be independent. But she did not have the money. That was when she met the Mondo family. They bonded. Valerie brought a whiff of fresh air into the equation. It was almost 2 months after Ravi met Angelita that he came to know of Valerie. It did shock his Indian sensibility. If it were in real life he would have fainted. Maybe even cut all relationships with her. But this was a dream. He could afford to be bold. He could be what he wanted, or so he thought.

He had heard of bisexuality. And as far as he knew, these were all influences of the free market culture. He never thought what the market has to do with sexuality. Nor did he concede that a freethinking human mind is capable of far more deviant behavior than he could ever imagine. He was culturally programmed to think straight. To be confirming to the norms of the society.

But in the dream the idea did not repulse him like it would have had in real life. He was intrigued infact. He read about it. Much was beyond his comprehension. He came to know of things which he knew never existed. He realized that the human mind is far more contrived than what was taught to him. It was then that he saw the movie Vicky Christina Barcelona and read the life story of Woody Allen. He hated Woody Allen and thought his acts were shameful. Though he was not too impressed he became aware of the greys that existed in the society.

But his dream was still pleasant. His friendship with Angelita was becoming more and more strong. He yearned to sleep just to know her better. They spoke of childhood and bitter memories both had about their child hoods. He was molested by his maid when he was three and she was molested by her dad when she was six; Two far different counties, cultures and societies but similar experiences. That drew them closer. He listened with awe as she narrated the story of how she became a stripper. He had never seen a stripper. In all probability he would never see one. He did not care. For the first time he empathized with women engaged in flesh trade. But this was not a bad as that. Atleast she held her pride. He wanted to kill every guy in the group that gang raped her when she was 16. He just wished she would have a better life now. He knew of Diablo Cody and her rise from being stripper to an Academy celebrated scriptwriter. Even if she would not see success in professional life he wished atleast that she would have a smooth family life.

But most things in life would not be the way you want it to be. The much-celebrated three-way friendship broke up. Angelita thought that Valerie is her toy. She always thought Valerie was in her home because she loved her, and when she found out that Valerie tried to seduce Mondo when she was not around, she lost her temper. She wanted Valerie out of their home. She was further infuriated when Mondo took Valerie’s side regarding the entire episode. Ravi could not understand why she was so angry. He could not find a huge deal of difference in a physical relationship with knowledge of a partner or behind her back. For him infidelity has a straight definition sleeping with anyone other than one’s partner amounted to it. However he was aware that he could not straightjacket this in to his societal norms. This was the US and he tried to console himself that “anything could happen there”. He has always wanted to go to the United States because he had heard of casual relationships – enjoyment with out commitment. But somehow now he was not too sure he wanted to be part of this chaos that challenged his sensibilities.

He was reminded of a line from the narrator in Vicky Christina Barcelona “Meanwhile, as predicted, without Cristina, the relationship between Juan Antonio and Maria Elena had gone back to its old destructiveness.” But Juan Antonio and Maria Elena were artists. Artists are insane or so do they say in India. But Mondo and Angelita were no artists. But still the relationship started breaking up. So it was no longer the small happy family that Ravi hoped to see forever. He thought this was more like a Bollywood movie. The vamp and moved in and destroyed a home. But in the usual Indian context none of these people would qualify to be the protagonist. Everyone as in real life has antagonistic characters. People have their failures and are not virtue personified like an onscreen protagonist.

Ravi still thought it could turn out to be better. He certainly hoped so. He did not think too highly of the Black man Angelita moved in with. He looked like a rogue to him. The pest control did not help Angelita’s fortunes either. They asked her to move out of her house because of a mould infestation. . Her mother did not want to look after her children either. The guy was not earning much either. It was strange Ravi did not even know his name. It was as if he was too insignificant. Ravi wanted to be of help but there was nothing much he could do than to wish well.

What does a woman lose when she is on road with four kids with no one to turn to? Angelita finally took that way which she had avoided for over a decade. Ravi’s sleep was a nightmare. He could not bear too see the slump in Angelita’s Life. But yesterday’s was the worse nightmare of them all. She had solicited a new client. Ravi knew from the beginning was something was wrong. He was aware of the knife in the guy’s pocket. And he did not like the narrow dark alleys through which they walked.

“Dub, dub” the knock on the door woke him up at that moment. He was sweating heavily. He could hear his heart pounding louder than the milkman knocking on his door. He wanted to know what happened to Angelita. But he did not dare going back to sleep.

His day passed with his mundane routines. As the sun set and light gave way to darkness Ravi felt a fear swell in him. He thought he would go mad. He did not want to think about what would have happened to Angelita.

Ravi was in his living room. He did not want to go to sleep. He flipped through the channels. The channels were dishing out titillating songs that are associated with the midnight hour. He did not even know when he slept off.

He woke up. A dreamless sleep, he yawned and tried to remember and visualize. He could not gather anything other than hues of purple and red. It was not strange he had had such nights before. But he was still curious what happened to Angelita.

Days passed and a month. She did not come back to his dreams. He tried to console himself that his negative vibes about the man she walked into the darkness with was just a figment of his imagination. He wished she was hail and hearty and living happily with her kids. He wanted to dream of Mondo and wished he would come back for the sake of his son Jayden. And she would not have to sell herself anymore.

Another month passed. There was no news of Mondo. But that night Valerie came to his dreams. He just thought it proper to wish her. She was warm and was happy to see Ravi. Ravi exchanged the usual pleasantries. The friend of a friend is a friend. It was strange that Ravi did not share the same anger that Angelita had for Valerie. He was still stuck in days of their friendship. Somewhere he too wished he could be friends with both of them, he almost wanted to be Mondo, though he would never accept it in open.

Ravi: Do you know anything about Angelita
Valerie: You don’t know?
Ravi: What?
Valerie: It was in the papers
Ravi: I don’t get American newspapers here
Valerie: She was raped and killed by a client
Ravi: A client?
Valerie: Yeah some guy she went out with
Ravi: Why
Valerie: He robbed her raped her and stabbed her. And she died bleeding in the dark Alley
Ravi: Are you not sad
Valerie: I don’t know. I think I never really liked her. I wanted a place to stay. I was young and wanted to experiment. I was shocked but now I am over it
Ravi: Oh ok
Valerie: Ravi, Can we be friends? I always wanted to ask you. I thought she would blame me for stealing you too.
Ravi: Errr I don’t know.

Ravi woke up. He was blank. He was in no mood for anything. But his life beckoned. He could not take a leave. He could not risk losing his job. His boss would never care for someone who died in his dream. As it is they did not care for anything, these multinational corporations. They were nothing more that chop shops that sliced a part of human intelligence and sold it in markets undercutting rates prevalent there.

Another boring day passed at work. Ravi yearned to sleep. He had a date with Valerie. Angelita was just a small pain somewhere at the back of his mind.

Compulsive Liar

2010-08-05T01:59:00.000-07:00

She said something to me
And I thought it is true
I wondered how it could be
At that moment I knew

A story that she herself wove
Narrated, compelling and credible
Suddenly as I watched in awe
It turned confusing and terrible

It was a twist in the tale
Intriguing, but went all wrong
Shows how beliefs could fail
No matter however strong.

A random lie streaked in warp
Could not be covered by the weft
And toothless truth fell in trap
A broken weave all that was left

It so pains to confess this
But I can’t take it any higher
Ah! My mind, she just is
A bloody compulsive liar

From Russia With Love

2009-07-28T01:11:00.000-07:00

For the first time, posting something which I have not written. But I think this is hilarious to say the least. Just check out the grammar and the usages

Hi! My not familiar friend! In a service of acquaintances to me Have given some questionnaire of the people, which approach me, I Previously studied them and has decided to send you to the first message Because your structure seems to me more interesting. I hope, that You have time to send me some messages, that we could It is better to learn each other. I shall tell not much about myself: my age 28 Years, my complete name Anna, And so me name the friends Anya. I once Was married, but my marriage has broken up as my former husband of saws, and Deceived me. I hope that you not such and we can construct ours The future. But before far and us it is necessary much to learn about each other. The given moment I live in an apartment of the parents, After the termination Honey of the college I work nurse in hospital, my job Very to like I from childhood very much wanted to become physician, and I think that My dream has come true. To me very much to like there to work. Free from Jobs time I play sports for maintenance of health. And as I I like to go in the summer with the friends on picnics to lakes. I have one Dream to meet with the liked man dawn only he and I on a coast The rivers. As we with the girlfriends often are engaged with volleyball. I send you Some photos, that you would present as I look, and I I hope that to you to like. And I shall wait from you of the letter with yours By photos. I have not how much questions for you, than you like To be engaged in free time? What you to like in the women? You when Not be were married? You have children?You use spirits Drinks? And last question on today As you think that to you not To like in itself? I wait from you of the letters with questions which Have arisen at you to me. Yours faithfully I shall wait from you of the answer, yours The new friend Anya,

And the follow up

I how understand what you to me to write any more will not be? I mean vainly you waited, wait see you tomorrow but deadline after tomorrow for answer if not on write. I shall search for other companion of life. Is simple give me the answer you want gets acquainted whether or not? Anya.

Sand Storm

2009-05-25T06:12:00.000-07:00

Rumbling noise outside the cabin
I woke up and sat on my bed
Feared that the wall may give in
He raged as if to wake up the dead.

Curious, i walked to the window
Tried to peep though the shade
Nothing to see, not even a shadow
But for the clamour he made.

It's strange, the feelings I had.
Awe, Inquisitiveness, Trepidation
Swirled up and made me mad
Searched inside for extenuation

Walked slowly to the locked door
Opened it slightly and peeped
I flet the brute strength he bore
As against the wall, the door banged

There i was standing in the open
Unseen enemy howling at me
Felt too small for once, but then
Surged the power, whatever be

In a moment I grew bigger and bolder
In cold of the night, fury of storm
In vain he tried to knock me over
Shed the sand that kissed my form.

Looked him in the eye, He had none
And said i am not even interested
I was happy with what I had done
Turned back, I refuse to be tested.

Shut the door and latched it tight
Far louder, he roared again outside
Slipped in to sleep slowly for the night
And the sandstorm faded and died

The Accident

2008-06-06T02:43:00.000-07:00

Ankita was in a hurry. She had to reach the office as there was a meeting scheduled at 9 AM. Boss would be there. It was her first chance to make a good impression. She was preparing for the last one week and she was sure she could make an impression.

She had just joined a month back as an intern at a Multi national company and there were chances that the internship maybe converted to a full time job. Anyways she was gaining valuable experience that would enhance her worth in the job market.

She zipped past a truck in her Honda-Dio. It had become one of her closest friends in the last one year. It took her where ever she wanted to go. It gave her a sense of freedom and empowerment. She had decided she would never sell her first bike.

She had on an ipod on and she was listening to her favorite music, Eric Clapton singing Layla. She zoomed past another truck coming from the opposite direction. She felt a chill down her spine.

She looked back and saw the crowd gather around. She could see fresh blood splattered around and sympathy on the eyes of the beholders. She wanted to stop to help. But then she had a very important meeting to attend.

She knew hat she has dreamed about in many times in the last few days. She makes the presentation, the awed look on the faced of the audience and the boss’s smirk breaking into a smile. A word of appreciation from him and that was almost her letter of confirmation.

She parked her bike in the parking lot and scampered up the stairs. She was totally oblivious of her surroundings. She went to her desk and took a deep breath. Then she proceeded towards the conference hall. She opened it and found it empty.

Slowly darkness engulfed her and she blanked out.
[ When you really want something even death cannot come in the way. But then death is overpowering. Just maybe you can carry your dreams till the last moment]

Its Now or Never

2008-05-24T01:50:00.000-07:00

Let us hold our hands
Give ourselves a chance
To be here where we belong
Correct where we went wrong
Its better late than never.

Light a candle that glows
Ensure the river of life flows.
Conserve mother nature, it hues
Mantra is Reduce recycle reuse
Earth maybe ours forever

(Written for World Environment Day Poem Competition at BALCO and it did not win any Prize :( )
Slogan:
Feel The Heat Yet
Its Climate Change, Mind it!

The Train

2008-01-02T22:33:00.000-08:00

Rajiv looked up with sleepy eyes on his basin mirror as he went on brushing his teeth vigorously. He remembered brushing teeth hard is not very healthy. But who cares he was late. Had to finish everything in 20 minutes flat so as not to miss his train.

Not that he had not done it before.

“It was a tiring day yesterday” he thought. he could remember crashing into his bed last night after a stiff drink of vodka. Nowadays drinking has become the only entertainment in an otherwise colorless life.

It was half past eight as he gulped down two dry pieces of bread along with a glass of cold milk from the refrigerator. 17 minutes he had locked the door of his one room apartment that was a new record. Now began his daily dose of exercise, the daily walk to the station. It was more than a walk it was a jog, run, hop, skip, walk and jump all rolled in one.

He knew he was just in time for his train. As he ran into the station he realized that the train was already moving out. With machine like efficiency he ran and clung on to the bar of a compartment door already spilling out with people. Something was wrong and it registered instantly. He realized to his horror that he had boarded the wrong train. He wanted to jump back on the platform. But one look and he felt dizzy. The train had gained speed quickly and he clung on for dear life.

Now he was doomed. The train would get to the next station in 5 minutes and then another 5 minutes to come back. Then a ten minute wait for the next train overall he would be half an hour late. He winced at the thought of having a “gyan” session from his team leader.

Those five minutes felt like ages. And he was happy when station appeared as a blurry spot in the distance. He grew happier as the spot grew bigger and bigger and the vision became clearer and clearer. But he was never ready for the vision he would have in a moment time.

As the train came to a halt and he was jumping of it, his eyes stuck on something. It was the most beautiful face he had seen in a long long time. Infact he was surprised he was looking at a face. Last few months since the breakup it has been the “look and the parts and fantasize routine”. There was something fascinating about this.

For a while he forgot time. For a while he forgot his boss and he eyes clung on for dear life to the future moving towards the train. His limbs moved automatically back to the same train he had jumped off few moment ago. He had never tried to penetrate through the crowd at the door of the local train. But today he did it. He drilled through the crowd and got a spot from where he could have a clear view.

He thought he saw a smile. He wasn’t sure. Why would she even smile at a stranger? Maybe just maybe it is what they told in the movie. What do they call it? Chemistry? He was angered that something magical like this should be called the name of a subject he hated in school. The next five minutes flew. He was angered that time wouldn’t stop at his whim. He just wanted to watch her for some more time.

The train rolled on to a stop and she got out. A surge of sadness went through him. He again waded through the crowd to the door. A Lo! She looked back. He was not sure she was looking back at him. It could have been someone else in the train. But as they say “There is nothing wrong in being optimistic”.

For the second time in a day, he watched he platform fly away from him, in horror. All the real thing in the big bad world came rushing in front of his eyes. The voice of his “evil Team Leader with horns on his head” was booming in his ears.

**************

He had learned his lesson. He could not be late today. He got up at six in the morning. He was ready by eight. He walked with gay abandon to the station. He was not panting when he reached the station. He had a smile on his face. The train slowly came to halt. He waded through the sea of people and boarded the train. He looked back and watched the station diminish into a hazy apparition form the door of the wrong train. But all he felt was anticipation.

My Imaginary Friends

2007-12-06T22:18:00.000-08:00

The credit for the come back topic goes to Vinisha. She was the one who enquired what my MBTI type was. When I replied that I was an INFP when I last checkd maybe 4 years back she quipped.

“Did you have imaginary friends”?
Me: Yes but, Why?
She: INFPs are supposed to have.

So I did have imaginary friends as a kid. That also means that I don’t have now. I don’t remember the exact number, maybe eight. That’s because I had quite a few. But I can clearly recall are a few names, Dany, Satish and Anil. The first name influenced maybe by a popular Malayalam kids movie of those times. I am unable to recollect if there was a girl in the bunch. Should have been, considering the interest in women that I currently have. But then I cannot recollect a name, that is if, there was any in the first place.

What did I do with my friends? Play, as any other kid would have done. I have vivid memories of me and them taking turns kicking soccer penalties and during these times the imaginary friends used me as the physical medium. Maybe we played other games too which I cannot recollect at the moment.

Who is he that is with you?
Nay it’s not my shadow
What is it that you two do?
Maybe we play the ludo.

Why is he not to be seen?
Because, he is in mind.
Where you two have been?
That is for you to find.

Back from a writers' block

2007-12-06T01:33:00.001-08:00

Its almost a year and a half since I last posted. Meanwhile I never thought it was so long back that i posted. The want to blog was always there. During this period I had contemplated putting my thoughts together on a large number of issues. But could not get my lazy ass to actually blog.

Let us hope that I do put something substantial in this innings. Could some one out there suggest me some themes, topics to blog on. I know my blog doesn't have a huge readership. But if someone do chance upon this. please leave a comment.

Embarrassing Moments

2006-07-22T00:31:00.000-07:00

Things like this has happened to each and every one of us

I moved to a new school when I was in fifth standard. Now this new School was supposed to be the best in Trivandrum, if not in anything else at least in the firang language called Angresi.

So there was this recitation competition. I was like over eager to prove myself in the new surrounding. So there I was waiting in the queue for my chance. Then suddenly I realized that all fellow kids were giving intros. I thought what would I say now. "I am going to sing this poem”?????

Being very intelligent even at that time I decided the best policy is to listen. I listen once. I listened twice. All of them were saying I am going to "DECIDE" the poem or better yet that’s what I heard them say. My chance came. And went on stage and said "I am going to DECIDE the poem “Shadow” by Robert Louis Stevenson" and the entire audience erupted into laughter. I had to live with pet name of "decide" for almost two months.

But it took me much lesser time to learn that u RECITE a poem and do not DECIDE it

Morality and Ethics

2006-07-12T00:48:00.000-07:00

Somehow I find it difficult to accept the term Morality. Maybe because of those Moral Science classes in school which tended to prescribe behavior based on conformism.

I would rather love to debate on Ethics one of my favorite subjects in Management. Ethical Universalism (Kant school) and ethical relativism are two schools of thought that people subscribe to.

I believe for any person the ideal thing to do would be take a decision which would prick his conscience the least rather than staunchly holding on to relativism or universalism.
For example infibulations or breast ironing in African countries may seem crude and atrocious from a universalistic perspective but in the social context of these countries it’s perfectly logical. The most important point is being logical. We have been blessed with the ability to think logical. Better use that than base your behavior on some prescriptions.

The problem with Ethical Relativism is that it gives rise to prescript practices. I mean if at a point of time Cannibalism were essential in a particular community to stay alive, that would pass over centuries and we would have cannibals who have no idea as to why they are eating their brother’s flesh. Now that’s what I would called “Blind faith”

The best thing would be Ethical relativism based on constant inquisition on practices based on Universalistic principle. I know that sounds confusing. What I mean is that practices, which we accepted based on ethical relativism, must not become a social custom or ritual. Rules need to evolve. A universalistic good would be ideal but then we have to tread the path of relativistic realism towards the ultimate goal

I would thank Prof. RC Shekhar for giving me clear insights into Ethics from which I could build my own trains of logical thought

On Internet- In A Season of Love

2006-02-02T03:42:00.000-08:00

People would not believe how much he had changed in the last few months. The total book worm bugger who used to spend most of his time reading either textbooks or his novels in his dingy little hostel room suddenly started to take a shower in the evening, put a heavy layer of talcum powder on him, look at himself in the mirror and, go out.

This evening excursion was to cyber café a kilometer away from the college hostel. He liked to walk all the way just feeling the breeze rush up against his face. For a introvert like him internet was a heaven. There was nothing to fear of. You didnt fear that you may not be able to utter a word if a girl looks at you in the eye. Or the big fat guy will beat you up if you abuse him.

This evening felt all the more better. He was again going to chat to Shirley. His love, finally he too could say he has a girl friend. Nowadays that has become a must have. You are not man enough if you don’t have a girl friend or they may even call you gay

Now girls in the real world were the most irrational people around. He often wondered how girls could fall in love with lousy idiots who drank smoke and spoke about their girls assets to other guys in the hostel. Maybe they too were not interested in love. It was all in the name of fun.

But his Shirley was different. She was all he wanted his girl to be. She was god fearing, beautiful (that’s what she said) and at five seven with 34 26 36 figure and long jet-black hair by descriptions could not be ugly. She was intelligent too. She could talk about American army in Iraq with the same ease she would talk about her lipstick and her roommate. And above all she loved him. The Iraq thing was surprising to him. But he forced himself to believe that god had hidden a jewel for him.

He had met her online a week after his only friend in college introduced him to chatting. He was in the Kerala room and just watching as the conversation scrolled by. When suddenly a personal chat window popped up with a HI!!! After the initial asl and other formalities she just raced into his heart.

It was just around 5 30 when he reached the café. There was a vacant seat and nowadays wit more computers with connectivity at hostel the cyber café was not full except for the rush hour. He sat at this favorite corner seat. No one preferred to sit there because it was all cramped up. But it served his purpose. This was he could be away from public eye.

Shirley was online. A smile came to his face. He pulled up the keyboard and said a Hi. After that awesome Hi on the first day it was always him who said the first Hi. He loved doing it. It made him feel in control

She send a smiley and said hi. She said she wanted to say something important to him. He tensed up. She said her parents had fixed a marriage for her. They guy was from the UK working for some multinational. He had lot of money and his parents were also keen.

He wanted to say “lets run away and get married” but suddenly his hands would not work they were cold and would not move. He pulled his right hand onto the keyboard with his left and managed an “and”.

She said, “I know it would hurt you, but lets be practical. It would take a lot of time for you to get settled in life. Another two years of your course and then god knows if you can manage a job. I cannot wait that long. I am sure you will find a much better girl than me. Infact I fell I don’t deserve you da.”

He could see his dreams shatter in front of his own eyes. He had even decided on the name of the kids they would have. And here she goes of so abruptly. He felts sick. He could not breathe. He just got up slowly locked the comp and walked outside. He took a long breath of fresh air. The sickness vanished but he still felt bad. He went in.

He typed, “ I want you to be happy. If this makes you happy then you should go ahead. The best part of love is letting go of the other and let them be happy” the words he read in one his favorite forwards. “ I would like to have a picture of yours. A memoir of your”

She said “Hey hey no pictures. Why you want to complicate things. You said you are not in love with my body. So why would you need my picture for remembering me?”

He said “okie”

She said “ Look I need to go now. I may not log into this id again. It was nice knowing you. You take care.” And she logged out

He got out wrote the timing in the register paid the man at the counter and slowly walked out of the café. A head popped out of the cabin near the door and winked at the administrator. It was his best friend who introduced him to chatting> he told “ And so dies Shirley” and both burst out laughing

He walked back towards the hostel. Tears rolled up in his eyes. He wondered, “How could she!!!” and he could feel his inner voice break in angst. He stomped his foot on the road.

“Bitch!!!”

He spat out. The strong wind carried it back onto his own shirt

Hour glass

2006-02-02T00:19:00.000-08:00

Sand is dripping down
Through the narrow neck
Time laughs like a clown
As is reflects on the clock

Time is indeed flying by
No I would not stop it
All I can do is curse and sigh
And hang in here a bit

Waiting is lifes brew
Lived till now nothings left
All the sand has fallen through
Wait for someone to reverse it

Being in Love

2006-01-29T23:33:00.000-08:00

Being in love is not easy
They say it good but it is not
Yesterday it made me queasy
Made me sit and think a lot.

I am pained by people I love
For others I don't give a damn
Affection we need and we show
Inside we know more we can.

Yester she pained me extremely
Hate her for it, I should
I tried to tear her apart slowly
Love her more, is all I could

On Ekta Paneri

2006-01-09T23:36:00.000-08:00

After that open letter to Ekta and some amount of desperate pleading she agreed to give me her number. What did i want the number for? I am not sure. Maybe I wanted to talk to the Voice of God from ON@CC. She had said once that I have to ask nicely for the number and maybe I had finally asked nicely. That was realization number one this new god has given me. I after all can ask nicely.

I resisted the thought of calling her up for sometime. Why I was afraid to call her, maybe it’s the same old of feeling of what she will think. I am not sure I worried about that much. These are situation where I fail to understand myself. But logically I should have been.

I went up to the roof of my office. And dialed the number and strangely I cannot remember if there was a ring tone or sing tone at the other end. Maybe my mind was just yearning for a voice to answer at the other end.

“Hello” it was a female voice. Damn so Ekta is a female after all. But then the voice broke so much of my imagination. It was not croony, it was not husky, It was mature. Far more mature than I could ever imagine. Now don’t ask me what I mean by mature. The only answer I will have is mature is mature.

She asked me “who”. I was a bit confused. Did I dial a wrong number or was I given a wrong number in first place. Hesitation on my part and then I said,

“Err this is Renjith. Remember u gave me your number in the morning”.

I couldn’t make out what her reaction was to my call. She must have been neutral. Because the job she is currently in is attending calls. So she can take calls minus emotions.

I said “ I am calling office from the roof of my office”. That was a real foolish thing to say. What difference does it make if I was in my bed or I was in a busy street or I was on the beach. That was just filler. The kind of thing that you say when you have nothing else to say.

And didn’t she make me look like a fool. ”Hey you office is on the roof” . That made me realize how silly I must have sounded. I don’t regret it because it brings smile to my face when I think of it. And anything of that sort shouldn’t be regretted. It sometimes feels good to feel like an idiot.

She controlled the entire conversation. Its amazing how in transactional relationship one of the operators firmly put forward ‘ I am the boss here”. And then she asked the question. I expected her to ask that. I wasn’t prepared for it though. “ You called me to check out if I am female right”

At that moment I denied it. But yes maybe that was one of my intentions. But then again I did want to listen to her voice because I am as much of a realist as I am a romantic. Means I can imagine wildly but then I need physical evidence to imagine. And I am a very ‘touchy” person I need to touch a person to express my feeling towards him/her. This has made some of my guy friends even wonder if I was ‘gay’. I think that in itself is food in itself for another blog.

After this phone episode there has not been much contact with Ekta. Except for her blogs in the last two days. And that too a reply to some forward. I for one, hate forwards. But this one did make an interesting reading. And I was just wondering about her patience to fill up the damn big questionnaire.

There was this comment by Alex on her reply to my letter. He proposed that people can be different in their online identities from their actual identities and Ekta says she may be writing what she want to be rather than what she actually is. Both of these are very interesting propositions. I have always believed writing helps you get to some plateau not achievable in real life and yes I am different person as a writer, I have different cyber personality that is definitely bolder than my actual self

Better Late Than Never

2006-01-09T22:47:00.000-08:00

I wanted to blog this 3 days back. I may say that I was too busy or I was too lazy. Both are right in some sense. But as the title goes “better late than never”

Its regarding this feeling I have that things usually happen late to me. All these thing s the kid do like riding a cycle or swimming I see they learn it at a pretty young age. I got y first bicycle at the age of 16. I learned riding on my on cycle. I guess that was pretty late. I learned to ride a motorbike at the age of 20. I bought my first motorbike at the age of 25. I have not yet learned swimming.

Just tried my first drink when I was 23. That was because I thought my dad drank my quota of alcohol too. Maybe a misnomer corrected by my management education. Tried smoking when I was 20 didn’t like that though. Must have smoked some 10 times after that during the last five years.

First time I experimented with my sexuality is when I was 17 I guess. And I still remember wondering how my friends from 7th standard used to talk about that years back. I fell in love for first time when I was 23 and fell more madly in the same love when I was 24.

With computers I was luckier I guess. I touched my first computer when I was 14 and I guess I fell in love with it. Somewhere along the line the love story didn’t take of as it should have. I did my first website when I was 23. Pretty late by the standards I had set for myself
Putting this piece together I guess I am not as unlucky as I make myself out to be. Maybe I just like to bask in all the sympathy I would manage to attract. Or maybe I just wanted to put don something and had nothing better to write on. I guess I should just stop cribbing and be happy about what I have.

Open letter to Ekta Paneri

2006-01-02T23:50:00.000-08:00

Dear EP,

I was reading “One night @ a Call Center” yesterday. My friend bought it in the evening and was reading it .So had to wait till he slept to lay hands on it. So started at around 11 30 Pm and finished it at around 3 40 AM. Thus sadly eating into my sleep hours. Now in office and feeling terribly sleepy. So thought would do something that’s interesting and thus just giving wings to the idea that took of as I was reading the book.

I didnt find the book as interesting as the first one maybe I am myself an engineer and could relate to the thread of 5 point someone. But then I never studied in an IIT. I never took on me any pressure to perform and yet again I didnt have a beautiful girl friend when I was in engineering

You maybe wondering why I am giving all history of what happened yesterday and during engineering. I can hear your imaginary voice (Has to imagine because I haven’t seen or heard you just read your blogs and chatted a few time) telling cut the bull shit and tell what you want to say. So here I go with out much ado

I was thinking of you whenever my mind wandered of the thin story line maybe because we had discussed this book or maybe cause you are one of those few people I know ( or I presume I know because I tend to believe all my cyber friends. not an wise thing to do, but profiles in Orkut do seem authentic) who work in a call center.

It was funny because (I don’t know how many ‘because’ I will use in this letter, it always happens when some one is upto lame reasoning) while I was reading the story I was plotting my own story in my mind. Its actually not another story. I guess it would be better to call it a suspicion. I had already asked you if the girl who told Chetan the story is you and then I was trying to fit you into the character of every female protagonist in the novel and I failed miserably.

Its again funny as I don’t know you as a person and yet I could rule out that you cant be Esha, Priyanka or Radhika. I was just trying to put in all the images I have about you to these girls. I know it was a futile exercise nevertheless it was just the mind wandering and meandering and going where it wanted. So I let it go.

Then I came to this totally insane but logical theory, That Ekta Paneri doesn’t exist. Maybe she is just a fertile mind who is blogging away his creative energies on extremely cool rebellious beautiful talented character called Ekta. I thought of Al Pacino and Simone. I thought about a net friend I had who would tell me the colour of the shirt I wore to class. I never got to meet her (who knows if it after all was a her). But it was kind of weird and yet exciting feeling that you are being stalked.

The different option flashed through my find. Ekta Paneri could be a bored housewife, a teenage guy, middle-aged man or anything on earth. Oh there are infinite permutations and combinations to when it comes to human beings. Infinite classifications of a single race called Homo sapiens.

But there is something about you that gives you an aura of authenticity and as I thought more about it, I realized maybe someday I may realize the dream of writing a book of my own and you could be the protagonist in it.

My First Winter

2005-12-15T03:22:00.002-08:00

This is my first winter and I don’t know if you can call it a real winter at all. There is no snow. So the purist may not agree. But then I am from a typical coastal city situated closer to the equator. The lowest temperature I must have seen must be some 18 deg C. Now the temperatures here are like 5 deg Celsius at night. I am wearing sweater at noon.

The hardest part is riding back to quarters. The company accommodation is almost 14 Km away from office and I don’t get to go back till 8 at night. I wear a sweater a jacket and a monkey cap beneath my helmet. Even then the cold wind blowing against you is killing. By time I reach quarter I am shivering and palms are ice cold.

But winter is fun. The time u sink beneath the cozy blanket is one of the most amazing feelings one can get. I just hope I had someone with me whom I could snuggle up to beneath the blanket ;)

Pain

2005-10-31T02:02:00.000-08:00

For pain I would pay
Let the illusions play
They teach its bad
Feeling pain or be sad
Its blasphemy I knew
As I thought and I grew

In the cave of my truth
Soul – unholy and uncouth
Lost in mayhem and insanity
I am searching for sanctity
Where thought is a jungle
Truth and deceit entangle

The mind is so morose
Feel the tentacle close
Conflicts of thought
Venom with it bought
As pain covers the body
Soul erupts in rhapsody

Crayons of earth

2005-10-28T02:58:00.000-07:00

Crayons of earth
Draw the pictures
Every penny worth
No frames or fixtures

Shades of grey
Or of shadow play
Waiting for prey
Out in earthen clay

Pictures are hazy
Intoxication mild
Mind goes crazy
Imagination wild

Endless stream
And the blinding fog
Piercing scream
The juvenile rogue

Night is too cold
The burning hearth
Flames Dance bold
And the crayons of earth

Aftermath

2005-10-24T02:00:00.000-07:00

I failed to realize where I was. All I could feel was pain all over my body. There was so much weight over me. I couldn’t open my eyes.

I was doing some experiments in my underground lab. Something with the explosives. Something went wrong. BOOM. I felt a force throwing me off my feet. Now wake up

I still don’t know where I am

Boring

2005-10-23T20:36:00.000-07:00

When days turn boring and existence turns to frustration it finally time to realize that you are living. Even I don’t fully understand that statement I just made. But I guess it really seems interesting because I am feeling a lot frustrated the last few days. It seems as if life has come to a lull when nothing much is happening on any front.
What do I do to wake up so that I have something moving? I am naturally lazy means the inertia is rather high. I have been seriously thinking about trekking. But is it worth it to risk my life in naxal infested hills and forests. I have long been fascinated by naxalism, but what difference does that make. For them I would be one of that class that has to be annihilated.
Roses on My Table
There are four roses on my table vase
Not real ones
Two are red one is rose
And one a color I don’t know
Maybe its orange
They are lifeless
But even real roses are lifeless
If thy are cut of from the plant
It doesn’t look good
But its still there on my table
I payed for it
Why do I have it here
I don’t know
But it is still here