Sunday, June 26, 2011
D(H)ELL
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Rishikesh- travel experience (in progress)
Day 1- day of the journey
We had to board a bus to Rishikesh from Kashmere gate ISBT at 11 in the night, but things weren’t quite going the way we expected them to be. It was a very hot and unusually humid day in delhi, and I was already taken for a fry doing market survey at Ghaziabad for my company as a management trainee. I reached Bumba’s place from Ghaziabad exactly two and a half hours after noon. He wasn’t home, but he left a key under the wastepaper basket.
The plan was to collect all our booze and clothes in as little luggage as possible as a lot of trekking had to be done. At around 8pm we set our journey with Riku joining us directly at ISBT after finishing office at Noida sec 16. At Kashmere Gate we had dinner at dominoes and when we went to the bus depot, we were surprised to see that there were no buses empty! All the seats were already booked even before we reached there. And we realised that we had no options but to take the private bus by paying extra. And the delhi heat and the food turned out to be quite a disaster for my stomach, and I got my stomach a little runny!
The bus was not even an AC one and we were cramped into tiny seats with overboard bunks as sleepers. The people travelling in the sleepers had to really struggle as there was about a couple of feet space for two persons. The situation was really getting a bit too crampy and uneasy, and the heated bus environment was drying our throats as we constantly sipped water to stay conscious. I was already feeling a bit nauseous with the heat and the sweat. in about some umpteenth attempts, the bus started the engine and throttled forward with the cold night air gushing in through the window.
In the meantime, another thing happened- the conductor had boarded an extra passenger in the bus and she had no seat available. The bus therefore had to turn back and get her down at the depot and start again on the same way. The only female passenger deserted us and we dolefully made our way into the silent delhi night. The clock showed it was already half past midnight and another 5-6 hours of journey was left for Haridwar.
After a couple of dusty and bumpy hours in the bus we arrived at a refreshment point where we all got down and had some food and fags. The bus again started after 30 minutes at that place, and this time we all dozed off peacefully.
It was already 6 am when we woke up at the sounds of the passengers, you always know that you destination was near when you heard such sounds. We got down at haridwar and I ran for a paid toilet. It was a great morning. We were nearing the thick of action and couldn’t wait to explore all that was waiting for us.
First stop hardwar
The morning air was refreshing for a change. We were pretty tired from the uncomfortable bus ride (thanks to the agents who promised us an air conditioned bus but ultimately accommodated us in a non a/c one). The much awaited trip for us was finally on its way and was rolling just as we imagined it to be. We took out some fags (we were stocked with about a week’s fag) and started our journey.
Breakfast was the next thing on our mind as we weren’t much of pilgrims. Though we were in Hardwar we didn’t feel the urge to get bestowed by the holiness of the place, but we did feel a lot of peace and quiet there in the morning. No hustle bustle, no chaos, no announcements over the mikes, no pilgrims, no noise...just the ghats and some devoted people who had come to take a bath in the river Ganges. The water seemed so much fresher than what we saw in UP and Bengal, and free of the mucky and gooey colour and feel. I almost wanted to touch the water and sprinkle it on my tired face, but seeing the rush and the current of the water I decided to postpone the idea.
We reached a pretty done up alleyway, full of advertisements and posters, chai and breakfast shops. Amongst that we noticed a nice restaurant totally Indian, rather desi, with lassi glasses and galebies on display. It pretty much brought a smile on our face as we entered. We ordered for a regular breakfast of puri and sabji and a glass of lassi. It was one of the most satisfying breakfast experiences for a very long time, as i had been staying out of home for a pretty long time and my culinary expertise fell flat when it came to the desi breakfast at this particular shop.
Converse- All Star
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Cant stop loving you- bengali
sob muhurtor ache thik shomoi, shob shomoi
joto cheshte koro metanor,
kichu paltai na, haan bodlai na
jodi boli ar cheshta koro na
tumi ki bhul bujhbe amaye
tomai sporsho korete chai,
ar bolte chai, erom bhave ki fele dewa jai
bolo tumi harabe na, chole jabe na, aaj tomai shuntei hobe je,
tomai chara ami bachbo na, kono kichu ami maanbona,
ooh haan, tumi jaano she gopon kotha, amar bhalobasha,
aaj tomai shuntei hobe.
je tomai chara ami bachbo na...
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Humbled by the Sea
Friday, May 7, 2010
story....in progress
Joey’s parents always wanted a house by the country side where they could do all the things that they saw on TV. Like go fishing in the neighbour-hood lake, raise some cattle, have a big garden maybe a field with a 9-hole golf course, a big house, a lawn with big trees and maybe a little tree house on top of it for little Joey, and loads of other things.
Joey was an 11yr old boy studying in the city primary school, he was in class 6. Joey’s dad, Mr. Curtis, was a business man and he had a leather factory in the city. Mrs. Curtis, Joey’s mother, was a country woman, who never wanted to leave the countryside, but could not help but move into the city after getting married.
Joey had two magnificent dogs as pets, Joseph (Joe) and Stanley (Stan). Joe was a German Shepard, big and strong, he was very brave and playful, and Stan was a golden retriever and was rather the observant one, he would always stay by Joey’s side and never leave him for one moment, he knew Joey was a little boy and took good care of him.
Megan was a country girl, only 9 yrs old, but she was rather smart for her age; as the saying goes: girls mature faster than guys! She was an orphan living with her grandparents. Her parents died when she was only 2yrs old in a terrible road accident in the city. Megan stopped going to school after class 4, as it became extremely difficult for her grandparents to pay her school fees. She helped her grandparents with the chores and also earned some money by doing small works in the neighbour-hood. Even she had a pet dog named Mia. Mia was a very big shepherd dog and was even bigger than Joe and Stan. She had these fox like ears and a pointed snout and brown eyes; she was a very active dog and loved Megan more than her life!
Mr. and Mrs. Baggins, Megan’s maternal grandparents were much respected people in the community. They used to be quite rich and well off before their land got illegally taken away from them by the local party. But they never held any grudge against them for the whole thing, as they themselves didn’t have a proper idea about what actually had happened with the land.
The neighbour-hood lake, which was the biggest one in all of the countryside, was very close to Megan’s house, which just overlooked the hills. Megan used to go for a swim in the afternoon with Mia on most days during summer and after that she would climb up the hill and pray in the small church that was there.
Joey was not good in studies but he was an excellent musician, he played Spanish guitar and the piano at home. He was also very fond of football and also represented his school junior team on many counts. He however, was a very quiet and reserved boy and never disobeyed his parents. He never actually liked the idea of being taken away from the luxurious city life and to live in the countryside, but he never made his feelings public. He also hoped that what his parents had told him abut the country life was true after all. Last year his mother Shelly said, “Joey, life is never constant, we all have to move and adapt ourselves to the different phases of life. And this is one such phase in your life where you will have to move out of the city.”
“But mom, I love to live in the city!” he replied.
“Son, even I love the city but I loved the country more…my growing up over there was so special and different…and I believe you will find joy there too.”
It had been a very cold winter and all the lakes and water bodies in Billbuck Hills, Megan’s village, had frozen into ice and the lush green of the village turned snowy white. It seldom snowed so heavily during winters at Billbuck Hills, but the last winter was rather very cold. Many of the neighbour-hood folks would gather near the hill, quite near to Megan’s house, and light up a bonfire and sing and dance the whole night away. The villagers were a bunch of very jovial people who just needed any excuse to start celebrating together. Last year, the long and cold winter gave them enough reasons to do just that.
Megan and Mia would be loved by all and sundry and since it was a very small town everyone knew everyone else. So Megan never felt like an orphan when around the village folks. More than that, her grandparents were very loving and caring and never let her feel lonely.
This summer there was news that some big-shot business-man would be coming at Billbuck Hills. He was rumoured to be a very hostile man, with lots of stories and gossips about him, and he also happened to be the legal owner of the Baggins’ land, which was taken away from them illegally!
But on the contrary Mr. Curtis was a very virtuous man, he never had the idea about the land being illegally possessed and sold to him. And he was also not hostile, or had a bad name in the city; it was just under some circumstances that he earned a ‘hostile’ title when he fought away some people who wanted to make him do illegal business. But people hardly knew the truth of the matter and labeled him to be a prick! He was a very strict man of discipline. And why wouldn’t he be, his father had been in the army and fought in the 2 world wars. But the rumours, doing the rounds in the village about him being very rich, was in fact true to the core!
So, when the family arrived in the village, people had mixed reactions. They could never trust anyone so rich and famous. But most of them didn’t form any opinion abut them that soon, because they believed they shouldn’t buy what's merely floating in the air, but see the truth for themselves.
Megan was very sad that some other family was going to live on the land where once her ancestors lived. But she understood that nothing could be done about that and she should stop blaming anyone for anything. She also took a glimpse of Mr. Curtis’ big shiny car parked near the gate of the huge mansion. She always hated cars since her parents had to meet with a premature death as they were run over by some drunk driver in the city.
“Excuse me, miss!” someone called after Megan. Joey was desperately gasping for some air and was panting with his hands firmly rested on his knees. He looked up from his bent posture to find the little girl looking at him from a distance.
She walked towards him and with a sense of apathy and answered, “Yes, may I help you there, boy?”
“Yes miss, I think I am lost…I am kind of new to this place, can you please help me out miss.”
“Oh, I see. Sure I can. What is your name, boy?”
“My name is Joey Curtis, miss…I just arrived today.” he said taking his eyes off her and standing straight.
He was pretty much stung by this little girl’s beauty, as such sights were rare in the city. Megan was dressed prettily in a pink frilly dress with tiny navy-blue polka dots, and from beneath her woolen hat, her golden curls were peeping out which was neatly tied up in pigtails. She had big olive green eyes and pink lips and a really kind face. She was carrying a bucket in one hand and a couple of books in the other.
She quietly said to him “huh, so you are new to this place, so I have heard”
“Yeah,” Joey replied. “What is your name, miss?”
“My name is Megan and this is Mia, my dog” she pointed a big brown furry animal sniffing furiously at him.”
“Here boy, good doggie, sit…sit!” he playfully directed Mia.
“She is not a boy, she is a female dog and I think she hates you!”
“Well…” he looked towards the hills and asked “you live down here?”
“Yes, my house is just a little while away from here. I know where your family is moving though!”
He acted surprised, “Oh, cool…so can you help me find my house?”
“Why did you people suddenly decide to come and stay here?” she asked him causally breaking a leaf from the tree her dog was playfully circling around.
“My father wants to move his business here, and he also wanted to live in the countryside for so long, and my mother is also from this town.”
“I see, what is your mother’s name?”
“Shelly, Shelly Curtis.” He replied
“No, I never heard of her…she said after rolling her eyes a couple of times…
“What breed is Mia?”
“She is a good shepherd dog; my uncle got her from Sicily when I was only 2 after my parents died”
“Oh, I am sorry about your parents, what happened to them?”
“Well they died in an accident in the city, I don’t want to talk about it now…well we have reached your house, see?”
There was this huge mansion with a lush green lawn with many trees and flowers in their full bloom. The setting sun cast the last of its deep red rays through the trees and it looked nothing less than paradise. And from there a big brownish-black dog leaped on Joey like a crazy animal and started licking him all over his face, not realizing that there were a couple of visitors with his master, looking at them in disgust.”
“Stop it Joe, stop it…okay now let me go…enough now…Joe!”
Monday, April 19, 2010
I Think
You are just about the same personality right from birth till you die.
Look at me
I was very obstinate as a tiny baby…I am still very much the same.
I had a short temper, even when I didn’t know how to speak…and though now I do speak, I still am the same.
I was always very brave as a child…but since I am more mature now, and understand the consequences, the bravery has escaped me a little…but nonetheless I am brave!
I was always a bit artistically inclined since early childhood…and my interest is only getting stronger with every passing day.
I was adventurous…still am.
I was crazy…still am.
Always have been good with physical agility and all kinds of sport attracted me since childhood.
Used to get annoyed and act rude at odd moments…couldn’t really come off that trait!
Never really got along with my brother…always have been poles apart; we have completely different ideologies when we perceive things and that leads us to ego conflicts.
I was always a reserved person…still am…but very open to close and near ones.
Never really entertained being chatted up by random people at random places. I am more of a private person and love to spend time on my own…still maintain that trait.
Always had a positive opinion about being clever…still carry that self achieved opinion with élan.
Always have been mysterious and unpredictable to strangers…but the mystery gradually disappears when people come to know me.
Always have been observant and see things in much detail…but sometimes things do escape my attention…and that has always been a big problem for me, because I tend to believe too much into what I see or read.
Mostly kiddish when around friends and family…but always have been a hard decision maker when situations demanded of me.
These were some of my traits that I could exemplify to support my judgment.
If you look deep within yourself, you might agree with me regarding my belief that “you never really change much throughout your lifetime…you only make changes and adapt yourself to suit better in your environment”
Saturday, December 5, 2009
a furry chain
A celebrity with just one rare fan.
She is full of style and fashion
Beauty and passion,
Her smarts could kill an able wise man,
So off to college she ran.
She changed his world with a blink of an eye
something that he could not deny
He was wrapped in her chains of fur
And blamed her for his heart pilfer.
The rhythm of his blues
The wind of his will
She was the girl, whom with, it seemed time flew,
A world only he and she could use.
In her love I was floating like a sampan
Whereas her love could just taunt any man.
Friday, October 23, 2009
There Was A Time
These feeling would never end.
There was a time, I thought,
The birds would never stop to sing
There was a time, I thought,
We were each other’s, forever.
But forever lasts a minute.
So does eternity.
No matter how many times
I try to get it over with,
It’s just you thats on my mind
No matter how many times
I lie about forgetting you,
You're too deep etched in time
There was a time, i felt
So damn insecure about you
There was a time, i believed
You're the end of the world, for me
There was a time, i thought
We were each other's forever.
But forever lasts a minute.
So does eternity.
No matter how many times,
I try to get it over with,
It’s just you thats on my mind
No matter how many times
I lie about forgetting you,
You're too deep etched in time
Albela Sa Ek Chehra
Albela sa ek chehra
Rehta akela
Meri taraf woh
Karke ishara
Ghabraya mein par
Dil ko woh choo gayi
Par kisliye bata
Baat kuch bhi na huyi
Khushiyan mili jo
Mujhme woh samaa gayi
Tum se hai pyaar hua
Tum mujhe aa mili
Pucha jab mein use
Kyon tu mere saath hai
Socha bhi na tha, tere
haath mere haath me
Kehne lagi woh
Kya mein kahoon sanam
Tum jo ho saath toh
Phir kyon dare kadam
Monday, September 21, 2009
quote me
Saturday, September 5, 2009
A childhood Passion: Now an Obsession
Now when I look back, I realize those countless hours in front of the TV didn’t quite go for a waste. Now that I've graduated from a film school, I relish on the fact, that I was one of the very few who watched Indian cinema right from scratch. I still can remember little scenes form all those movies (some of them I saw more than 4 or 5 times or even more). I can still remember the scenes and the actors when I listen to those old classic songs on the radio.
That hobby developed into a serious passion in the coming years and I further explored the wilderness when I took up Mass Communication and Videography and Film Studies in college. There we dealt with specific genres in cinema and explored them in much detail. We saw Iranian cinema, African cinema, Latin American cinema, French new wave, Italian neo realism, soviet cinema, classical Hollywood, documentaries, surrealist, silent, musicals, slapstick comedy and Indian commercial and parallel cinema.
Films were suddenly unfolding their structure before us and we attended to each aspect to the minutest of details while studying them. We studied how a film is conceived, put on paper, pitched, executed, edited, mixed and rounded off… I really don’t know if any other subject would have made the same impact or generated the same level of interest and commitment within me. For me it was a stark blank drawing book with so many colours in my grasp, and I could run my imagination in any direction I wanted.
And we not just watched films; we also made several films in the brief 3 year period. We made some documentaries and some short films with professional and semi- professional equipments. It was a dream-come-true. For the kid, who once used to hog on cinema all day, could actually get behind the camera and make one for himself. It’s probably the same feeling for someone, who would listen to some music being played on some instrument as a child, and then one day would be on stage in front of a thousand people, and playing the same sound that once had caught his fancy...
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Love Him Too
Only if he could see her again
And tell her what she never expected to hear
From him
He was feeling like it was the first day again
Well now that we could not see him in pain
He could not let her go without saying
It tonight
She might say yes and wave him goodbye
Or could sit quietly as the train chugged by
She should definitely jump out and hug him
In tears
She was going away on a Sunday train
Only if we could see her again
And tell her what she never expected to hear
From us
We’d say, come now he’s such a good guy
He will keep you happy and always dry
So don’t you break his loving heart
Apart
Sunday, August 23, 2009
stupid all, but good advice
i was sitting at the computer chatting with some friends and playing pool on facebook when some stupid mosquitoes attacked me from under the computer cabinet... i subconsciously scratched the mozzie bites, got addicted to the feeling!!!...and i soon found out that some parts of the skin on my feet turned raw...
i had pealed off the skin while happily scratching away the itch...
stupid dettol!
i thought diluted dettol was for sissies and little girls, so i dipped a fresh piece of cotton wool in the fully concentrated dettol and cleaned off the area. it burned! shit it burned! but i felt good and proud after that!
stupid me!
by next morning, i realised that sissies and little girls are the cleverer ones! atleast they would never harm themselves like i did! cause the scratch wounds that got a decent helping of raw dettol last night had turned all red and swelly...awwwww my poor feet!
stupid infection!
i thought the area would heal by itself after a couple of days, but the situation got worse...the portion of the infected area turned a bit yellow with pus instead...and i realised it was a bad infection! the adjacent areas also swelled up making it very difficult and painful for me to walk, and more so when i had my feet idle for a while, and then again had them working all of a sudden. i looked up the net and read about infections. i never thought i had enough discernment in that area, and as i was updating myself with the facts, i found myself shrinking into my chair like a deflated baloon...
The facts were frightening!
and i understood that if i didnt see a doctor soon enough i might damage my feet forever!
stupid long line
i dont like to visit the doctor.
i found myself queued up in a line with some million people waiting before me! and it took me hours before i could actually go to his tiny chamber with the awful smell of medicines and disifectants.
good advice
NEVER clean your wounds with undiluted dettol.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
I Don't....
In your dreams
I don’t care if you say you’re not in love
With me
I won’t care if you say that you don’t need me
Anymore
I don’t know if I shall ever see that at all
I believe I can’t lay my head on the line now
For you to walk past like you didn’t see
It doesn’t matter to me anymore somehow
I don’t care to even consider it
And as I go and let my ego rule
I don’t know if it‘ll ever leave me
I can’t live for a day in your sunshine
I don’t care if you don’t need me
Sunday, August 16, 2009
the good guy and the bad girl
She wants some help with her project
The guy doesn’t like the girl that much though she’s quite hot...
She calls him at a very odd time
And wants him to come for a few hours
The guy is a bit hesitant, but he is very generous and can’t say no if someone asks for a favour
So he rides his scooter to this girls place
Reaches at 7.30 pm sharp
The gal is a complete mess
She smells like a crate of uncorked bottles of whiskey
And her hair is a complete mess as well
But even then she manages to look quite hot to the guy
She is wearing a low cut nighty, with a really daring neckline
The guy is a bit hesitant to walk inside her house
He still goes in, and at once unpacks his bag and takes out his notes and starts helping the gal with the project
They soon get off topic
And the gal tells him all about her personal life, and the several affairs she had had
She yaps and yaps and the guy is eventually bored
And in his mind wants to leave ASAP
The gal then offers him cigarettes
The guy takes one and they talk a little more
The guy is really worried as it is getting late
And he says that he can’t stay any longer and wants to go and that she can keep her notes and copy them down and finish the project
The gal doesn’t listen
And says that since he has come to her place for the first time he must no go without having anything
She offers him a peg of scotch
The guy refuses, as it was getting late
The gal was now getting dangerously close to him
And the guy was breaking into hot sweat from all over his forehead
He is very tensed and confused
He doesn't want to ‘do it’ with the gal
He doesnt want to ruin his virginity with such a desperate slut
He wants to leave
The gal pushes him in rage
And he trips on the carpet and falls down
His head is injured and the gal apologizes to him and gets him a glass of cold water
The guy falls unconscious
Next day
He finds his pants missing...he has bruises all over his body
He realizes he got raped
Finish
Monday, August 3, 2009
Memoirs of a past

Some of us would often be
Carelessly lost in words galore
We could've asked for nothing more
The rays of light into the darkened room
Would cut across like an autumn moon
In a starless night with no winds at play
Our days're as fresh as showers of May
Seldom visit we those memoirs lost
New grass has replaced the treaded coast
Oft we go with no plans aboard
Soon to realize we're too far off shore
And as we walked by the waters still
We saw the steady reflections within
The waters, and yet felt so obscure
We didnt recognise ourselves for sure



