Chuck Norris The Fabulous Musician.

Bomber: Chuck Norris is god.
Anne: i have a few songs by him.
Anne: though i dont listen to him.
Anne: i am waiting for my taste to mature and then maybe i'll start listening to him.

And I Made It Through Another Of Those... Happy New Year.

Current Favorite: Champagne Supernova (Oasis).
Cigarette Count: Countless.
Alcohol Level: 97%.

And after all the drunken madness, all the disorders and sadness, everytime I write, I get through and leave you another clue. After all the craziness, ET makes it through another year. He leaves you yet another clue. Liam Gallangher is wrong. I will live, and be I'll be strong (as I take another sip of the pineapple juice). No matter which side of the bed god wakes up on, I'll be alive and invincible.

So if I could ever fall in love a spirit, it would be mine, not yours. I do not give up. Here's a new year to you. I'll make it through more drunken madness. No matter how short I fall of my finances, I'll screw my life and yours.

New year resolutions:
Less alcohol.
Less cigarettes.
No drugs.
Greater will.
Better health.
Lesser fuckups.


"When I was 21..
It was a very good year.."
- It Was A Very Good Year (Robbie WIlliams.)

Every Little Thing She Does.

Freshman year,
Mom asks "What do you want to do
when
you get out of here?"
I said, "Well, gee, I'm only
13,
but I think I'd like to play my guitar...
be
a star."
"Well," she said, "that's not it,
you
got time to go.
Good sense will kick in anytime, you
know.
I'm not worried, I'm not worried."

Sophomore year,
she asked the same old thing,
my
answer had remained unchanged.
I saw her fidget with her
thumbs.
She said, "You like computers, John,
you like
computers, don't you?
Yeah, I always see you with
computers...
you like computers
maybe you could do
something with computers.
Yeah, wouldn't that be
nice?"

Junior year,
It's a little more
intense,
She says, "What do you want to do with your
life?"
I'm not on the fence, I know exactly what I aim
to be,
and I'm only 17.
She said, "Well, all I
ask, is that you pay attention in class,
so if you happen
to change your mind in time,
you can still go somewhere
reputable...
do us proud."
So I went downstairs,
and I played guitar loud.

Yeah, senior year,
Same old question,
She said, "What do you want to do?"
I said, "Play my guitar and sing."
She said,
"There's no such thing."

- Every Little Thing She Does by John Mayer

Portions For Foxes.

11:04pm. 24 Novemeber, 2006.

Song: Could It Be Any Harder (The Calling, Camino Palmero)
Cigarette Count: 5

Today the music sounds loud, much louder. I've been wanting to call Anne the whole week, and talk to her, and listen to her talk about shit. Anything, anything. Fuck bipolar disorder. I have a bloody Attention Deficit Disorder. I can't scream for her and tell her that I want to call, or want her to call. Today, I'd rather settle for the less than the more. I miss her. And this is wrong. It was wrong of her to make me repeat after her, "I will not call, and I will not talk to you." I should have been heard out, me, when I was not caught off gaurd. I wanna go over to her place and watch a movie, sit, and talk.

The past 3 days have been a "who smells better" competition between us. SidK wants the same aftershave I wore today. Lol. She happened to be in the same group as I for the viva and it was good to see that my stare still works. And then our feet touched, my right with her left, with the black nailpaint.

Song: Things Don't Always Work Out That Way (The Calling).

So wipe that smile off your face. If things went on this way, I'll probably end up calling her, before the exams, just to ask how much of the course she's through with, and probably be told not to call at strange hrs, or worse, not to call at all unless its got something to with our project.

 -----------------------------------------

1:21 am. Today.

Fuckin hell. I called. On Knickers advice and a toss of a coin. Wish me luck. Its not set yet.

But Then There Is Always The Neighborhood..

November 21, 2006. About 11pm. Chat excerpt between me and Smokering. Smokerings text is in green.

The mice, in Arthur's absence, create a phony question since it is too troublesome for them to wait 10 million years again just to cash in on a lucrative deal. Their new question was "How many roads must a man walk down?". 
I want my book back.

I dont have it! Didnt I give it back to you?

Oh yea sorry. Knickers got it.

in fact. you were supposed to get me Ground Beneath Her Feet.

As a matter of fact, it was in my bag. What the hell were u doing all day anyway?

studyin w Anne.

^o)

lol. I was. Software Engg.

kuch nahi hona tera

i sent Bomber the SRS which Vibhu gave me. To send it to her. Cuz I thought she'd given our names for th team 2 months back. She called askin if I'd asked Bomber to send the file to her. And i said ya.. And she was like.. she'd given our names, but had later asked the prof who'd agreed to change th names.. Well, I hadnt been told about the change. In other words. mera cut gaya tha. I slept. an woke up at 3. tried opening Vibhu's file.

hehe

It didnt open. Phut gayi. Called Anne. Someone had told her tht i had got the SRS frm Vibhu. So I asked her for it.. an she was like.. If you want you can add your name in our project with Tammy an Ritesh.
In the morning Tammy called for th printouts. i agreed. Got them.

of course you did

Studied the file there w Anne an Tammy. then Tammy left. So anyway. Anne and me. She made me cram some stuff the way she used to. she's brilliant at it.. During which she mispronounced a word by mistake, didnt realize, an i started smiling. she asked me why i was smiling.. i said its nothing. And then I told her tht she'd mispronounced a word. an she was like.. "so you're gonna criticize me now ?" ..

lol

i said "Thats why i wasnt saying anything.." an she was like.. " So you're gonna criticize me and not tell me, eh? Thats even worse!".. she didnt realize. but i almost died there. Went red. Fuckin deja vu.

hahahaa

Though a diff thing.. criticizing isnt much.. but still.

hilarious

I'm sure she mustv realized what she said. cuz then we both went quiet for like.. 10 secs.
And then during th lab.. the prof.. Ruchi.. she made me wait.. cuz she wasnt sure she could let me give the exam since i had zero attendence in class as well as lab.

What the hell.

And after 5 mins she asked.. what she should do.. i said lemme give the exam.. And she was like.. No.. first go ask Saurab sir. I almost laughed out loud..i mean.. yeah sure, gladly.

i dunno Saurab sir

Saurabh gupta is th CS dept. incharge.

ok

He's the chap who looks like Mike Myers, if you've seen him.

yea i think i know

so when i took permission an came back, Tammy and Anne were standing there arguing about sumthing with Ruchi.. and I only managed to catch the last sentence.. " I know who made what.." then i proceeeded to finish my prac.. which was fuckin easy.. and waited for my turn for viva.. she'd taken Anne, Tammy and Ritesh' viva already..an i was talkin to this person in my class.. abt CAT an stuff.. an then he told me..

That Anne was arguing with Ruchi cuz Ruchi had said she couldn't allow more than 3 people to work on a single project an was insisting on kickin me out.. an Anne told her that I couldn't be kicked out as I was the one who did the whole project. So when my turn came for the viva, Ruchi asked me to join Manoj and Pankaj for the project. dumb ppl. I refused, sayin the project Anne had was 'conceptualized' by me.

lol. bastard

Well. noone had made the project really. It was copied off the net. And I was the one who got the printouts. So..

hmm.

Ruchi said tht she'll ask saurabh sir if it was possible for 4 people to do a project. But anyway, i called Deepak later an asked to join him. He agreed. An I'm feelin weirdly happy today. i didnt feel odd today with Anne. No physical tension in the air w her today. Even though she talked cuz she had no choice..

Momentary lapse of bijli.

hmmm.

so didya get the project or not?

my name will be added to Deepak's project along w Vinay

whoa

wtf

lol. kya.

im sure they didnt copy it off the net

They did too.

lol. bloody bastards all of them cse ppl

An were caught.. as in. Ruchi told that they had got it off the net.

and thats a punishable offence?

no. she asked them to get another one. Something simpler.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Present. November 22, 2006. Morning.

Song: I Want To Be The Boy / There's No Home For You Here (White Stripes, Elephant.)

Cigarette Count: 5 Yesterday. Its morning right now.

Woke up an hour back. A good 8 hr sleep. The cold woke me from it. The day before, Monday, I had almost died. I had gone to ask Anne personally about the SRS. Our first lines after almost 40 days:

Me: Have you done the SRS thing?

She: No. (Looking around. Pulse rising. I notice these things. I know her pulse and everything else, too.)

Me: Do you plan to do it?

She: (takes a deep breath.) Can we talk about this later?

Thats it. Thats all we talked about, and it got me choking for the next 2 hours. I went up form the basement to get some fresh air and water, came back for the practical, got scolded by the Control Systems prof about not having completed the lab file, and for not having attended a single lab class. Screw him. I couldn't take it anymore, went to him, and told him that I wasn't feeling well. I was allowed to go up for a while and come back to give the exam in a while. I went out and smoked, spoke rudely to everyone, choked on smoke, cried, etc etc. Smokering and Maddie came out. I sneaked off when they saw me. Went back. Was asked if I was feeling better, and when I couldn't get any words out of my mouth, I was told to sit while he took everyone's viva. I sat there, alone, and Anne came in. I broke down. Almost. I couldn't bear to hear her voice. So I did kept my elbows on the table and my hands on my ears and tapped on the legs of the table with my foot gently. If you haven't done this, you gotta try it, especially if you wanna drown out sounds effectively. The light tapping of your foot on the legs of the table, boom like bombs in your ears through your palms. But still. I should never have given her the satisfaction of seeing me this way. And I hated myself for that. My viva was at the end. And I knew nothing except that polar points are marked on a frequency response curve. So i went back home half dead, called up Smokering and spoke to him for about half an hour. And went to sleep at 8pm. The next morning, I showered and shaved with a vengeance. I hadn't shaven for almost 2 weeks. I had to look good. Smell good. Get back to my old self. Not the smelly, hairy, untidy, long-haired hermit I had turned into the last couple of weeks. I knew we were gonna be studying together, and I couldn't let her do that to me again. So I went in with a smile, discussed CAT scores, and helped people out with various things. But then as things turned out, with the SRS and and all, I figured I might as well back off. And I hadn't really hated studying with her, talking to her. I liked it. It was fresh, and not uncomfortable, as I had thought it would be. And she didn't feel conscious while I watched her playing some dumb game with people standing in a circle and passing a football around to anyone they wanted. I felt happy. Things had turned. Even though she never wished me luck, I hope to call her and wish her all the best, and if possible, to stay in touch or something.

Heaven Sent.

Song: Don't Change (INXS, Greatest Hits on repeat)
Cigarette Count: NA, unless you count yesterday, which was 11.

And that, is exactly how I'm gonna try and keep things the next few hrs. Don't change a thing, for me. I give my CAT in less than 4 hours, and I hate to admit it, that I got a bloody big knot in my stomach. Me, the cool and composed guy with a smile, who doesn't give a shit about his exams, so much so that he missed 4 out of 5 of his midterms. I'm not nervous. Just anxious. I want to do those questions right now, here, in my dirty, crumpled, unbuttoned shirt and Simpsons pajamas, complete with a stubble on my face. I've stolen in a Camel light for today from Smokering, cuz that's what I've been having right before each of the mocks and I've been scoring well. In a couple of hrs, I'll call up D, and hear her wish me luck too. And a dark chocolate right before the exam, cuz its an aphrodisiac. So you see, as far as I'm concerned, my preparations are almost complete. Now if someone would gimme a small ball of hash to get rid of the knot in my stomach... Well. IIM's.. Look out. Bastards. I don't know why I've chosen to get into management. I know engineerings been a disappointment and management would probably gimme a large field to work in. Its just that I don't wanna get into any other fields. So anyway, a list of my top 5 jobs/professions:

1. Novelist. Billion selling and killing. Maybe somewhere on the lines of Salinger or Hornby. I know Doug Adams is almost impossible to pull off. Humor is a must. Even if its silly as fuck.
2. Vocalist in a band. Which is not very possible either. I sound like a fucking JBL bass tube when I sing, unless I'm doing Knopfler, or his kinda stuff, which doesn't really involve a lotta vocal ability. Just a lotta scotch on the rocks. Which means making my living out of singing at a bar.
3. Music/Movie critic in a well-known (but not snobbish) magazine/newspaper. This would be brilliant. I've been able to recognize good screenplays in bad movies with bad scripts, and bad screenplays in bad movies with brilliant scripts/plots. And I can describe characters as well. The only downside would be that I would have to watch movies called 'World Trade Centre' as well. Oh well. I don't care much about biased American sentiments. Atleast I think I can do the job well.
4. Write for travel magazines/sites or work on of those travel channels. Even though I hardly ever watch those. I donwana know how much it costs to go scuba diving.
5. I dunno. For the time being, I'll put in Expert Hairdresser. You suggest something better. I imagine a million haircuts on a million people, and I wear my hair long, and hate them too, so its all well. But then that would require a lotta study and trend prediction and all those fancy things.

There's the music/book library owner too, where I hope to hold discussions and movie screenings.
---------------------------

To be honest, I'm counting on today to decide the course of my future. And I hate talking about it, but things always get there. Whenever we're sitting wherever with our cigarettes. Like yesterday, when Smokering almost killed me.. "Yeah I think he's got a better chance than the other two..". And even though I laughed it off, it killed me inside. Thats when the whole knot in my stomach started forming. Now why can't people keep such stuff to themselves? He's not the first one who really knows where I stand right now and still say such a thing. And even though he doesn't really expect it out of me, there's always the pressure from within to perform upto my own standards. My standards, set unintentionally by others. I like things to be clear, at least to me. Like all those things in Physics, where all other external influences didn't matter, even if it was just in theory. Think about it. If you start taking the external influences into account, they would ruin most of the studies/theories etc etc.

Fuckin hell. So its 735am and its almost time to leave. My centre for the exam is in.. East Of Kailash. Coincidence? Will the bad vibes kill me? I dunno. I'm gonna go get ready now. Wish me luck.

Ahh. So You Found Me. I Will Not Instigate Revolution.

Song: Was (Kenny Wayne Shephard, Live On.)
Cigarette Count: 1.

Its been some 4 days, and I seem to have fully recovered from the shock. I know I have cuz I've started feeling nothing again. Smokerings got stuff for me and I'm happy. Its been long. Abstinence is good if you plan to catch on again once in a while. Narcotic. Not sexual. So day after, I start with my internals.
There's a million other things to do, and a million other forms to fill. I have my first internal on Monday at 12, and before that, I'm gonna get myself a draft and goto someplace which is some 25kms from my place, fill the form, submit it, go back to give my internal, and then finally go back home. And its better this way, I guess. When you have a couple of million things to do all at once. I manage to do complete almost all the tasks in lesser time than I'd have taken otherwise. Working under pressure becomes an addiction. You wait very patiently for things to get heavy, for the build up. And all the while you sit and observe, look at things passing by, and smile. And finally, when its time, everything seems to work in your favor. Somehow, things go right. Its almost like listening to the song.

Song: All Along The Watchtower (Dave matthews Band, Live Cover.)

You wait for the song to build up, keep walking, cigarette in your hand. And with the first roll of the drums, the nicotine kicks in, the wind hits you right in the face, and the growling "laaattte..." gives you goosebumps. And so you bite into your lip and break into a crazy half-supressed grin, trying hard to hide the movement of your lips, the rush, the madness. And then your neck starts grooving and your insides start moving, as the song builds up, and the world starts revolving around you. The tempo goes higher, and the song reaches its climax, leaving you exhausted, like you just had a fucking orgasm. Your eyes had been open all the while, but you need to re-focus, and look around, and re-adjust to your surroundings. And see where you've reached. You're home, babe, you're home.
You ever felt that? I seem to miss the walks from the metro station to home. Its been some two weeks. There are no new songs that give me that rush, there's no The End or Stairway To Heaven, or even a Dry County or Something To Believe In for that matter. I avoid carrying my earphones with me these days cuz I donwana listen to any shitty music and I donwana listen to any of the old stuff. There's some stuff that you just have to avoid.
There's a connection between my music and the way I live. I'm still waiting patiently for the buildup, enjoying each cigarette, anticipating each beat and unconcsiouly preparing all my moves. And I know I'll be vulnerable to all the things around me, when it happens, but I hope that it's worth it. Its a fucking long life and I hope that the climax/orgasm is equiavlent in its duration.
I avoid having alcohol alone or too often. I consume less cigarettes when I have the day off and I'm home. I decline offers of weed from most people. All these rules donot apply during festive season or when I'm not in the city. I plan/hope or dream of having 3 full yrs, maybe 4, but no less, to myself, travelling across India and then across the world, after which I might quit all forms of intoxicants. Except music. I know I'll never be 16 again, and that music will never be the same again. But it'll always be right here with me, and it'll always be right.
------------------------
News today. Theyr closing shops, the motherfuckers, which leaves a good no. of traders, suppliers, manufacturers and employees jobless. 3 suicide attempts in 2 days. And now the latest is, that if they have it their way, they're gonna close down the biggest wholesale market in Asia within a month. Which means about 100,000 more shops closed down, or about a million people fucked with. Thats fuckin 10% of the city's population. Which also kinda kills a lot of my plans. Fuckin hell. I got a shop there and as of now thats the only source of income to my family. And I had big plans for it. No time for anything else now. Time to get involved and look for other things to do. I'm pretty confident. My dad made the right moves at the right time and I'm sure things can be worked out without having the shop and office there. Theoretically at least. I'm banking on that. I need my fuckin MBA. Next yr or the yr after that. Fuckin hell.

Hahahaha. Subtract A Regret From The List.

Hahahaha. I'm going crazy and feeling sick right down to stomach. Omg. fuckin hell. what other words do I have? how sick is this?
Now I'm loving every fuckin moment of life. How beautiful, you ask? So beautiful that I'm gonna puke right here.
I fuckin need to talk to someone, and pretend to be sane. I think I'm gonna call SidK. Smokerings left tonight for Manali. Yeah. Subtract a regret from the list. Now I'm even. Almost. Atleast now I'm not feeling odd. haha. Un-odd ET.

Excuse no. 50469231782 for another smoke.
-------------------
5mins pass, and SidK, I rememeber is in Hyderabad. He's not pickin up the phone. And I just strained my face so much that it started bleeding right now. This kinda shit used to happen during push-ups, when too much blood would run up to my face and one of the scars would burst open. I love the look on my face right now, however it is. I love blood on my face. And the marks on my back still fuckin there. Everywhere. Everyfuckinwhere. And no I wont call anyone right now. I'm gonna fuckin finish the whole bloody packet. Sleep? bhenchod. No I can't sleep in this enraged, confused, mind-numbing state. I'm gonna bang my head against the wall.

I'm fuckin broken right now. Broken deep and I want to kill myself. And I want to listen to all those dumb songs all over again. I'm in tears, blood and pieces, and I dont know what this fuckin thing is thats stuck in my throat. I want to tear up every fuckin thing that I ever wrote.
I threw the toothbrush with the brown foundation lotion sticking on the bristles. But I can't fuckin throw the comic strips can I? No. Not the mails either. Or the letters. I'm gonna go fuckin drown myself and hang myself and stop eating food and burn my hands. I'm off people, for the next few days. Maybe. There's noone real to talk to anyways.

" Goodbye, cruel world,
Im leaving you today.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Goodbye all you people,
Theres nothing you can say,
To make me change my mind.
Goodbye."
- Goodbye Cruel World (Pink Floyd, The Wall.)

Oh My God! You're One Of THEM!!

8th Oct, 2001.

She: You know that mail I sent you?

Me: yeah. What about it.

She: You have any idea what I'm trying to getting at?

I nod.

She: ET. I can't talk to you when I want to. I can't see you when I want to. And you know I like you so much. It makes me feel so bad.
(Pause, probably for effect.)
Don't do this to me.
(Pause, this time waiting for me to respond.)
Atleast say something.

Me(fucked. Dunno what to say.): You remember while coming back, on the train.. you asked me something?
(She shakes her head.)
(I pounce on the chance, or atleast try to capitalize on the fact that she doesn't remember.)
Why do you like me?

She (bounces back, deuces the round.): I've told you. One way or another.

Me (barely audible): Is it cuz of the corny face?
(And then loud enough to hear..)
Or is it because I hardly speak?
(I dunno what I'm saying and why I'm saying. Probably yapping for the heck of it.)

She (Obviously confused.): Why are you doing this to me?
(Pause)
And I feel sooo....
(breaks off..)

Me (Last resort.) : I love you.

She (staring at her feet, speaks softly) : I love you too.

I feel like holding her then and there, on the B-block turn, in CP. She has her back against the wall. But I'm too fuckin 'decent. And scared. She might break into pieces or something. She's not to be touched. Only stared at once in while. Or spoken to when she permits.
We shake our heads, and I lead her to her car. She has to pick up her ma from the airport at 730, and I look at my watch and its 7. This entire conversation took over an hour I guess.
-----------------------------
Song: Angie (Rolling Stones.)
Cigarette Count: 7 + 3 in the room right now.

The first time I was faced with such a situation. About lack of communication. This was the 7th or 8th time I had met her in over a year. Wtf. What a loser. I should have met her more often. Now what is this? Why are all my regrets coming out.. no. Rolling out, all of a sudden? We hardly used to talk on the phone, partly cuz my mother acted freaky, and partly cuz I never made the effort. Cuz whenever I'd call her, I'd start jumping inside, scared to death, like.. man. I'm calling her. I'm calling her. And finally, I'm calling her. So anyways, that had been the worst day of my 16-yr old life. I had 20 bucks left on me, and it was getting late, and I was a little uncomfortable about travelling in buses then. So first an auto walla suckered me into paying him 20 bucks to drop me off to Minto bridge. I was left with no money, but I anyways took another one, got out Balloons place, and borrowed some odd 80 bucks from him. I entered home, still shaken, and was confronted by Ma. I could not convincingly tell her where I'd been, and that was the first time I was asked whether I was on drugs. I told her I had been out to see D, and she asked me 'why?'. What do you say to that? I mean, what is it with females? What sort of sick pleasure do they get out of asking people answerable to them, questions which have no answers? Why can't the questions be like "Do you like me?" or "Do you like her?", instead of "How much?". My life, as I know it, in the past 6 and a half years, has revolved around THEM.

And I know that this is universal. People all over the world, and in parallel universes, are forced to lead this sort of a torturous, unbalanced life. Unbalanced, cuz of questions which have no answers. but fortunately, there are ways to escape. And I think I'm going to do jus that. I'm gonna have another smoke.

Song: Its Only Rock 'n Roll (Rolling Stones.)

" If I could stick my pen in my heart
I'd spill it all over the stage
Would it satisfy ya, would it slide on by ya
Would you think the boy is strange? Ain't he strange?
If I could win ya, if I could sing ya
A love song so divine"

Eggeterian Seed (Archive)

15th Oct, 2002.

Heard her say, "Chicken!",
And I as I went down to the farm,
I saw her as she stood there,
Dressed in blue,
God, warm.
Sweat beads.
I was the eggeterian seed.

So as I walked on towards her,
Wondering
Straining..
To hear the words,
And give her a lead,
I was the eggeterian seed.
------------------------------------

Hooker's green deep,
I watched her weep in the fields.
And I moved on,
And gave her no heed.
Fuck. I was the eggeterian seed.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Song: Over My Head (The Fray, How To Save A Life)
Cigarette Count: 2.

There. Its called the Eggeterian Seed. Its about nothing, and it was written in class 12 during the highly uninteresting Computer Science class in a moment of misinspiration. Luckily we had got a substitute teacher for the subject, who taught the other class, and was a wayy better teacher than  the regular one, who had a shockingly high rate of getting knocked up. She probably gave birth to mice. So anyways. There's no real story to this one, except that the final stanza was written a little later after discussing it with Sob Man. He was the one who suggested adding a 'fuck' to the last line of the song, since its supposed to be a post-Nirvana grunge/punk/garage song.

Present. I sleep at 7 in the morning, after coming home from dinner with Smokering and Maddie at Ten the night before. As usual, we sit around and smoke and discuss vedic science and possible career options/moves for us, immediately discarding the possibility of joining some Infosys-like IT company, cuz they ruin your life and leave you with nothing to look back at when you turn 40. I take the last metro home and sit online. Do nothing. Go back to bed at 3. Fail to sleep, and then get up to write the entry below this one. Sleep at 7. Wake up at 2. Go for the 3'0 clock test, find that there's no shift for the test which starts at 3, and end up writing the test at CL itself, scoring an average 37. Parents tell me that they'll be going out for dinner, so I take the oppurtunity to watch 2 martial arts flicks back to back. I watch The Legend Of Drunken Master (Jackie Chan), and Ong Bak (Tony Jaa, Thai movie). Oh. And yeah. Tony Jaa is next in line after Jackie Chan, and way better than Jet Li. He doesn't require ropes to walk on walls and fly, and for a change, has a proper technique (Muay Thai, or Thai Fist).

Aww fuck. I have to get up at 8 to be able to get to Noida by 10. Shall be watching The Departed. Its supposed to be great, and somehow I don't really feel quite as excited about it. I'll be going to Noida for a movie after quite a long time. Almost all the movies I've watched there have been with Anne. The only exceptions being Swades, Rear Window and Batman Begins. This is boring. I have to stop myself from doing such a thing. Writing out boring details from another life. Its 3:30 right now. 4 hours of sleep for me today after a long time. Goodnight.

Damn. I'm Not A Ba-stard.

Song: Damned (Bon Jovi, These Days. Yes. Its out again.)
Cigarette Count: 6+.

Damnit. I lie in bed for an hr with the lights out and what do I think of? No. Not Jennifer Conelly. I think about Anne, about the seating arrangement during the sessionals, and a desperately made-up desperate situation in which I start panicking during some semester exam and can't think of anyone else I can trust enough to call for help and so I call Anne and she doesn't take my calls. And then I call SidK repeatedly till he picks up his phone and answers in a sleepy voice and I explain the situation to him. And then he calls Anne and explains things to her and then I get a message from her saying "Call." And then I tell her that I'm gonna be failing the exam and I desperately, desperately need her help and she reluctantly agrees. And then refuses my suggestion of her place in the morning, so we meet early the next morning at the exam centre and she helps me out. And then I give the exam, and still fail. Or maybe pass with a 50. Either way, I stay eternally grateful to her for being kind.
And now that I think about it, (damn it. why?) I realize that in a lot of these made-up situations, she's always someone I can depend upon. Could. Damn it. Again.

Song: Hearts Breaking Even.

Heres the main point at which I was gonna arrive. I feel like a fuckin idiot. It would have been so much better had I told her that I wanted to meet her once and explain things and really 'talk about it', talk about how I'm literally bound to myself and my non-commital attitude. And she was in such a crazy situation, and she probably couldn't even figure out what hit her. Things would have been so much better, and maybe she wouldn't have got that haircut and black nailpaint thing done. And I'd be able to look her in the eye. Once again, I lost myself the chance to explain why I'm not a vile bastard. I don't really call myself those things most of the times. But its what most of the solid evidence points to. What I think cannot really be counted as solid evidence can it? If I were to judge myself as a third person, that's probably what my verdict would be. And maybe some sympathy, just in case I had my own side of the story. But who wants sympathy? I don't. How long can I keep on justifying my actions with my thoughts? Fuckin' hell. Doomed. Thats what I am. I want those fucking chances. All those chances. All those times when " I hate 'lets talk about it' " got the better of me. I want to make all those decisions again. I want to call up GNidhi and apologise for the psychotic, virtual madness I created along with Sob Man. I want to call up Neha and explain why I'm not a stalker. I want to call up Nancy and tell her that I'm not a sex maniac. I want to call up Anne and tell her that I'm not a bastard and tell her again that she did not have a hand in the way things turned out. But most of all, I need to call myself. I need to convince myself, based on solid evidence, which does not include my thoughts, that I'm not a heartless bastard. Does anybody know a good pro bono lawyer?

" The first night I said I love you, you told me to go to hell.
You were giving me hell, on that creaky old bed at the O'Duval Motel. "
- Bitter Wine, These Days. (Bon Jovi.)

ps:- I promise, and I almost promise myself that I won't listen to this album again this month.

Bijli... Bijli.

Song: It Was A Very Good Year (Robbie Williams. To scout. Keep 'fessin.)
Cigarette Count: 7.

How does it feel to have a good voice? A voice thats not so heavy, and one that flows with the song? I wonder. Some of my favourite vocalists (Not in order.):
Jon Bon Jovi.
Steven Tyler.
Axl Rose.
John Denver.
Don McLean.
Billy Joel.
Mark Knofler.
Elvis.
Sinatra.
Chester Bennington (yeah, thats right. Linkin Park chap.)
Sting. (I hate to admit..)

For a long time, I had been thinking about what the perfect voice would be like. One with the perfect mix of high pitch (Tyler), gravel(Jason Wade), and whisky-sipping british kinda heaviness..(Knopfler). And then what happens? I'm shattered. The one artist who somehow manages to irritate me right down to the spine, has all those. Fuck you Gordon Thomas Sumner.

And now, the News at 2.
D's ma's picture in the latest India Today edition. Damn. She's cool.
Smokering gets a decent 1480 in his GRE, and the sonovabitch spoils it all with a 700 in quant.
And last, and the biggest and the most shocking news. I come home and listen to some music and then try to get some sleep, when I get a message from B. I expect it to be another "wanna go for a walk" or something. And then I read, " is it neccessary to get ur gf something everytime u meet?". Huh? WTF!!? He got a gf!? All speculations put to rest. So I simply asked whether there was anything he might want to tell me. And apparently the girl had been coming over to the mofo's place for over 6 months and he never said a thing. Lol. I'm still finding it hard to believe. B finally got a girl. In the 10 years that I've known him, he had never even said a thing about having a crush on anyone. And at one point, we'd almost started doubting his sexuality. Anyways, for once he messaged even past midnight. I'm stunned. Stupified. Dumbfounded. What all other words are there?

Magic Man.

October 31, 2006.
1:40 am.

Song: When A Man Loves A Woman (Percy Sledge)
Cigarette Count: 4 + half J.

1:43am, an I've just sent Aki an All the best message for her GRE tomorrow. Just watched an episode of The Wonder Years, titled "Dance With Me". When I was younger and they used to air this show on Star TV, they used to fondly compare me and Kaki with Kevin and Paul. And if things had turned out even a little different from the way they turned out to be, Acknd would've been Vinnie, if not for that fateful chat in which I told her I considered as my younger sister. What the hell was I supposed to do? Ask her out? I was in 8th and she's a couple of years younger. But anyways, they say that teen age sets things right. Actually they don't. I used to say that when I was 12. The highly confidential and top secret crush which lasted for a about a year faded, with a bunch of girls here and there during the next 2 years, Including, Anukriti, Pratima Roy, and, Neha Sinha. She changed schools and the herself, grew up, but not really what I'd call right. I've still adored her as my little sister, and a special friend. And we don't get to see each other as much anymore, but I still sorta pray that she turns out well.
Neha Sinha happened in 7th, and at 1 stage, I had a crush on 4 girls. I didn't have much interaction or eye contact with Pratima though. So me, a 7th class student at the time, was looking out basically for the other 3, sometimes strongly flirting with Anukriti and Acknd. By the beginning of 9th though, those 2 had faded completely and I was obsessed with Neha Sinha. She had joined school in 7th, and was 5'8", with beautiful parted hair that touched both her shoulders. Excellent in academics, and a brilliant voice on the mic when she spoke. And, most importantly, she was witty and wasn't scared to discuss sex with guys then (I had only managed to overhear parts of conversations between her and other guys of her class), and that was.. so cooooll. I was in awe of her, obsessed with her, and followed her everywhere during the breaks and common games periods. And well, obviously she had noticed me, the almost bearded weirdo,(I hadn't stared shaving then, and I have a hair growth comparable to bears.) following her with my skinny balding friend, who used to update me about her whereabouts. And then I got to know that he liked her too. And it made sense, didn't it? The sonovabitch always knew where she could be found, and could follow her around all the time, posing as my friend. I confronted him and he admitted. He's a good chap, Nitin.
So anyway, we had a Magic show in the school hall by some dumbass chap who played some horrible music to accompany his show, and I followed her around the chairs, and kept staring at her, till she turned to me and mouthed the words, "STOP STARING AT ME!". And for the first time in my life, I got that sick, sick heavy as lead feeling in my stomach, with which I'm so familiar with now. What I had been doing was wrong. The word given to it was 'stalking'. Later after the break, I was called back from the class line by one of the prefects, who was Sinha's brothers friend, and warned not to do it again, or else... Whatever. I never did that again, and I could never face her again, let alone talk to her. And for the next 3 years, I kept dreaming, making up lines to say to her at the school farewell, an apology, or some way to let her know that I wasn't the cheap bastard she thought I was. The dumb school farewell we had, I never got a chance to even get close to her.  The next two years after school at the alumuni dinner, I went, secretly hoping that I'd get to talk to her and clear things out, but she didn't come. And I know she'd probably turn away if she ever saw me in the marketplace or anywhere else. Hell, that happened after school too. And a lot of other things too. If given a chance, I know I'd still like to know her. One of the very few regrets that I still carry with me.

So anyways, I was talking about The Wonder Years, and the episode, if I didn't mention, was titled, "Dance With Me", where they have a school dance, and Kevin asks a girl out, who agrees, and then backs out, (Bitch!@#!@),  and then he asks Vinnie out for the dance, but she tells him shes already agreed to go with some 8th grader. So he's left dissappointed and goes to the dance with Paul, where Paul also gets a girl. And then Vinnie arrives, looking like an angel, dressed in white, and Kevins jaw drops. He tries to get her jealous by asking another girl to dance with him, and when it all appears useless, he walks out of the hall to sit on the stairs, dejected. Vinnie appears, they talk, and go back in, and dance to a Percy Sledge number, arm in arm.
You know there'll be other girls in your life and the other boys in her life, but for the moment, if you have the chance, hold on to her. Somehow, these 20 minute narrations end up moving you, cuz they're about the life of a 7th grader, what he finds cool, and what kind of girl he falls for. And you know that no matter how much you grow up, somewhere inside you, that 7th grader is still there, and he makes you jump at the sight of her, and stare in awe at her like theres no tomorrow.
The closest song I could find, to the one they dance to in the end, was the other Percy Sledge number that I had. So there. Thats why the song is still playing on repeat.

<------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

Cut to present, October 31st, 2006. I spend the whole day, almost frustrated cuz of lack of activity. I can't study, and theres noone to call to talk to or go out for a walk/smoke with, and theres no match on either. Minutes pass as days, and finally MadMan gets home, with his cousin With-It. We go out for some chaat, and then for a smoke. MadMan's friends arrive and kidnap him. So With-It from Bombay lights a J which we share, and talk about this and that. The With-It guy I used to know 13 yrs back, before he had shifted to Bombay, had changed, and he smoked # everyday. Later at dinner, I sit on the bed all dazed and stare at the tv, till it starts snowing all over on the screen, and I realize the cable wallah is a dumbass. So what, do you ask, could be worse? The internet doesn't work either. So I walk into my room to find my Dad on the computer, complaining about the internet connection, with "engin*****tobac**.blogspot.com" written in the address bar. Phew? Phew!. A little later, me and my sis, we sit down to watch Le Double Vie De Veronique (The Double Life Of Lady Veronica). First shot, boob shot. Later on, the girl starts crying while the psycho jumps on her and fucks her. And as it always happens, whenever my sis sits for a movie with me, it always has a pathetic end.

Bomber go'n die. This my 2nd cd he ruin. This his 2nd consecutive recomendation which suck. ET punch Bomber. ET kill Bomber. Bomber is bastard.

Be Like The Squirrel, Girl. Be Like The Squirrel. You Have No Faith In Medicine.

"I'd like to think that all of this constant interaction
Is just the kind to make you drive yourself away
Each simple gesture done by me is counteracted
And leaves me standing here with nothing else to say

Completely baffled by a backward indication
That an inspired word will come across your tongue
Hands moving upward to propel the situation
Have simply halted
And now the conversations done

I'm only waiting for the proper time to tell you
That its impossible to get along with you
Its hard to look you in the face when we are talking
So it helps to have a mirror in the room

Ive not been really looking forward to the performance
But theres my cue and theres a question on your face
Fortunately I have come across an answer
Which is go away
And do not leave a trace
-------------------
Waking up for breakfast
Burning matches
Talking quietly
Breaking baubles
Throwing garbage
Drinking soda
Looking happy
Taking pictures
So completely stupid
Just go away

Theres no home for you here."

- Theres No Home For You Here(White Stripes, Album: Elephant.)

Album : Elephant (White Stripes)
Cigarette Count : 3.

And now I'll throw something else in for good measure.
Mock %ile : 97.1%+.

Haha. Very aptly called "Mock percentile". It makes me happy for some reason. Its a kick. Its always a kick when you get such a score without having prepared anything at all.
Its funny. Whenever I put on Elephant, its usually for the repititive, random garage music. And I forget about the lyrics. Its got quite a few killer songs. I'll keep that in mind next time.
So on Bomber's advice, I ended up watching Bin Jip. Korean movie, and the two lead characters don't have a single dialogue. Well. The girl gets to scream once, and say "I Love You" with a korean accent, but thats it. Bomber shall have burnt cigarettes stuck up his ass the next time he recommends/writes me such movies.
Talked with D last night. We don't talk quite as often as we used to, and whenever we do, its mostly random. Like. About Don and bipolar disorder and my non-existant flirtatious character. And she was in one of those brooding, irritated moods. I've never really seen her in such a mood. I'd love to. It would be amusing to sit next to her when she's in such a mood. So I tried calling her up later after saying Goodnight and she didn't pick up the phone, and I'm shit scared of voice mails, even though she's got an awesome voice.

Anything Anything. ZXi.

Song : Dramarama - Anything, Anything.
Cigarette Count: 5.

Talking to Calvin abt numbness. I hate talking about it. I hate writing about it. And I hate it how songs interfere when you're writing. I feel like writing down the lyrics sometimes then. And I guess I do that sometimes. And todays been a brilliant day on the whole, a commendable recovery from a bad start. All mornings on which Nice has to attended turn out bad inevitably. The shop somehow makes things better, even though he sells fake Marlboros sometimes. He's killing us relatively faster for a few rupees more. Sonovabitch. Do I complain? No. I sit there with whoevers there, and stare out at the hospital building, the kids playing guilli danda on the road, people coming in to make phonecalls and the cows staring back at me. Me and the cows, we have nothing to do in life. Atleast theyr better off. They dont have to smoke to kill time. It comes naturally to them. Me? I sit there thinking about all the people in the world getting their first fucks.
So things get better when I attend a couple of labs, and finally find something new and interesting to do. Matlab tools for image processing. I think I'll do my major project on that. On the way back, Ma calls to tell me that she is with pa and everyone else at the car dealer and asks me what color I want? How the hell am i supposed to imagine green-grey? Is there any such color called greenish-grey? or Greyish green? wtf? I tell her to pick that or Silver. Anything but golden. Rubbish. I come home and take an hr. long nap to find a golden thing parked outside the gate. Like I wasn't sick of the color already. 6 years and what do they get? The same car, same color. And I'm also told that Mamu got the same car, same color, with pretty similar number. Ooh. I'm excited. Like it isn't the 4th time thats happening in the last 15 yrs.
Bullshit. So what do I look for the moment I step into the car? Fuckin obvious. The make of the stereo. And finally, finally, unbelievably, it has an inbuilt fuckin mp3 player. I almost died there. All the Sundays spent thinking about getting one installed in the car for almost 2 yrs. So there. I proved it. If you wish hard enough, you wish will come true. Thats what I plan to do about my first million and billion too. And my private jet. So anyways, its a pretty decent car and though not what I'd ideally like to have at this point, it'll do for now. Anything, anything.

Sat down to watch Metropolis about 3 hrs back. Watched half of it. Second half for tomorrow. I got a bad pain on the left side of my neck and I'm hoping it doesn't get worse or I'll be down with partial paralysis or something similar. A bad neck to give my bad back company. Yeah. Then I can lie in bed all day and not get up and use my fingers to change the tracks on my ipod and watch movies on my computer all day long without feeling guilty. I'll chat up with some horny bitch online and get her to come over and gimme a piece of her once in a while. And when I'm not feeling upto it, a blowjob would do. Hell, I'll even have beer and cigarettes while she's at it.
Ahhh. Beer. I've hated beer for as long as I remember, barring the last week or so. I finally fell for it at SidK's place. Fosters. No Kingfisher.
I don't think I'll live for another 40 yrs. I can't be that lucky. I'm too clumsy, too self-centred, I don't know anything about taxes, washing powders, furniture or cooking. And I'm can't depend on my parents for the rest of my life. I mean, I'll probably end up mixing all the colored clothes with the white ones in the machine, and make my food bland and burnt. I don't think I'll celebrate Holi, Deewali or Navratras or Lohri at all. I don't know what jingles/bhajans to sing where and when. And I'll probably end up paying twice the amount of what things are worth. What sort of a life would that be? What should I do? Stick around and be greedy about my first crore or go and live alone for a while and check out how things are around me? What about scout? She wouldn't know anything about such things either? What would she be doing 10 yrs from now? Earning crores or paying twice the amount for a dress at Sarojini? And why would she dance to kajra Re and Bidi jalaey le? And watch Zoolander? Fuck. I need to sleep.

Hit Me Baby.. One More Time.

Songs:
Bon Jovi - Lie To Me.
Patti Smith feat. Don Henley - Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough.

Cigarette Count : 4.

Almost every song I hear now, including all the dumb hindi songs on the radio, are either songs that I sing, or songs which Anne must be singing. But you know you have a problem at hand when you look for a meaning to a Britney Spears song..

" My loneliness is killing me
I must confess, I still believe
When I'm not with you I lose my mind
Give me a sign
Hit me baby one more time"
- Baby One More Time, by Britney Spears.

Doesn't matter if its not completely true. Maybe just the first couple of lines. But still. What matters is that its a Britney song. I don't have much against her. She sang Toxic.

Song : Hearts Breaking Even.
Song : This Ain't A Love Song.

Fuck Bon Jovi. I'v been listening to him on repeat.. again. These Days. I love that album. Just love it. And its probably the best they could ever come up with. Words as well as music. Or maybe I just like it cuz a lot of its angry, and about being angry over helplessness. And about going through with things to the end. Or simply cuz its too fuckin dark. Yeah. Thats the word I was lookin for. Its too dark and intense. And the vocals are stretched and the instruments are not underplayed and. Aw. shit. fuck it.

"It would all have been so easy
If you'd only made me cry
And told me how you're leaving me
To some organ grinder's lullaby."


Anne and I broke up last Saturday. She found 'Inside'. And she called up at 2:30am that night, to tell me that I have to put an end to things, making me say that things were over between us. She probably feels better when I say it. Like I'm the one who does all things I say. Anyways, for once, I did not refuse. I told her the truth, even when it killed me each time. But I still wish it hadn't come out. I know what I went through with D, and that was hardly what I wanted her to go through. Now she's gonna go through shit, and just as I predicted, I'm in the position where I can do nothing, just stand and stare at her. Anyways, I hate that nosy behaviour of hers. If I didn't give her the address, it probably meant I didn't want her to read it. And while she was talking about all the things that she's gonna miss, I remained quiet, never mentioning all the things that I'm gonna be missing. And I had the nerve to ask her what search term she used. (I checked out my sitemeter. she used "engineered tobacco freak". She probably found the name on google after searching for my name.) Jay and Knicker were over and watching Yojimbo.
I rather liked what she called reading out my messages from her diary. I wish i could've said no. By her own logic, I should been screaming "Rape!". The only differnce was that my thoughts were typed out on Inside, and not on a diary. I wouldn't have dreamt of going through her diary while she was in the washroom. And she shouldn't have done it either. And thats all I'm pissed at. But its all over, and now that it is, I guess I'm glad. even if that means I failing 3 or less subjects. Fuckin hell.

Zak had a card party at his place tonight. Black Label, and what looked like a gallon of Absolut Kurant. I stuck with the vodka and sat queitly. Ate. No cards. I'm broke. Gin D had a baby 4 days back and he's fuckin puny. I went to her place for the Diwali presents, and met up with DS for some snacks and smokes before that. The baby, it turns out, is a sissy. He didn't like the smell of chicken&ham and B&H on me when I held him and started wailing as if I'd stepped on his willy.
Yeah. I can be that insensitive sometimes. But the truth is, that I was the one who acted like a fuckin sissy by making a fuss over holding him. I'm fuckin scared of little kids. Like, you hold them, and for all you know, they might start wailing like you stepped on their willy. And so you end up making a face which says, "No! I didnt do it!". And then everybody turns around and gives you a stare and you know they're not convinced. They know where you stepped. Anyways, how does it matter? He doesn't even have a name yet. When he does, I'll take him out for a drink and a guys night out thing to compensate for the willy thing I never did.

" Don't worry
I ain't gonna call you
Or hear you say my name
And if you see me on the streets,
Don't wave just walk away
Our lives are getting twisted,
Let's keep our stories straight
The more that I resist it,
My temptation turns to fate."
- Damned.

Hell-drunk to the neck.

Hell drunk to the neck and after comtemplating thinking about writing here after reading scout and smokerings blog, I think I've decided to write and I'm so fuckin drunk I cant even remember the lines I was thinking about writing here while I was brushing my teeth. How drunk is that? I dunno which second I'm gonna puke, but thats saying a lot considering the amount of alcohol that I've got in my body. Every second key that I press is a backspace. Oh. I forgot.

Song : Sheila Nicholls - Fallen For You.
Cigarette Count : 8+.

I told SidS that we should get more cigarettes. I dunno when I'm gonna fall on my bed. But I was wrong so wrong.. that was jus another song you wrote.. Fukcin. hell. her. Anne. What an attempt to forget things. I haven't gotten so drunk in the past 2 yrs. 6+ double Jack Daniels w/ Coke, Chciken snacks, all sorts, on the terrace, of Sam Man, who rocks, cuz he served JD on his birthday, even though he puked while I was eating. I can't believe I havnt done so after having more than 3 drinks. I dont have much of a capacity for alcohol. I'm dry all over. Still .Your walls are still too tough. oh. thats the song lyrics. She blocked me on gtalk and I'm guessing all other things. Theres a draft saved on my comp on sum software whose name I cant remember, which will probably describe how terribly numb I'm feeling after breaking up with her, but not now. For now, I'm gonna listen to all the songs she reminds me of right now, which is the above song, which I dont wanana mention. Thats how drunk I am. Anyways, its amazing how after you break up, every song sounds as if you should be singing it or she should singing it. This ones on repeat, for the 4th time. What the hell. Drunken ramblings. Thats me. Thats probably how I'd like to be. I think I called smkopring a while back telling him how drunk I am. Did you ever see me. Watching from periphery? I was playin another game, I hoped you'd catch on all the same. Wtf.
So anyways, 3rd consecutive day that I think about her, and how she'd be feeling about what happened, and about what I've been feeling about her the past 2 months, which I figured out the night she called me, saturday night, with Knicker jay an me watchin Yojimbo. And she told me that we shouldnt be together and how I knew what must have happened when she said she did something she shoudlnt have, but she did, and didnt regret it much. And I know what I went throguh w D, and thawas sumthing I did not want her to go through, and yes I'm still sane enough to not use real names. I was wrong, so wrong, that was just another song you wrote for another girl. No it wasn't for D or anyone else, but I never wanted anyone else to feel the way I did with D. Especially you. Hell. Sorry. This is no personal letter. But I'll go now, so you'll know now, how much I've thought about you all the while (I just forgot whatever you're singing..).
So how long have I been writing? I could probably write for hrs, and abuse the backspace key as much as I want, but I shouldnt, and I still feel like doing so. There. I puked. So much better now. I'm not so ssad. Just a lil drunk. And I guess I did write a song about you, like a rhyme in my mind, we go for a drive, but we dont go out very far. Never saw you. And I wish the electricity goes and the ups shuts off and miracle saves this post from being published, but its probably not gonna happen, not after me wanting so much for it to not get published. Thats my luck.
Song: None.
Fuck that bitch. Sheila, you make me think too much. I donwana do that anymore. Even while I'm drunk, I shuold be thinking about my CAT and passing my semester exams. Heres the plan. With Anne not there. I'll probably fail in 2 subjects. The 2nd and the 3 rd. I'll have enough time for the 1st and 4th, and the 5th is AI, which I should be able to clear. Then theres the project report to finish which'll probbaly take an eternity, since I got so drunk and depressed. I hate the word 'depressed'. Clinically its a fuckin disease. And I'm sure I dont have it. Bipolar disorder is fine, but not depression. fuckin hell. I'm pretty sure now. I read all the symptoms the other day. I got pretty much all of them. Should I get a bottle of water or should I not? Maybe I will. Too fuckin dehydrated. Anne takes care of herself and I try to do the same.
In the meantime, I've started going out to the university grounds for jogs with my music which is ridiculous, simply because I like the word ridiculous. But they're pretty good too. I wont be that heavy anymore once I lose a little weight, and the next time noones gonna complain. And anyways, theres a couple hot athlete bitches there who sprint over hurdles all the time. I got time to familiarize myself with them.
I dont like the whole givin-back-things-you-gave-me business. I like the book she gave me and I'm gonna keep. With love, Anne. The mp3 cd is probably gonna be given to smokering cuz he shuold probably be listening to those songs, which are pretty good. His gain. He was gonna get it but I forgot. His loss.
Oh my fuckin god. 50 mins. its 3:21 now. I'll go to sleep now. After getting my bottle of water. I missed whatever movie I was supposed to watch on my comp tonight. Fuck. Will probably sleep throughout the day and do nothing. Maybe start workin on the project report.
Fuck ya
ET.

Way Too Dinku. What You Got; But My Soup Got Sour. (Archive)

To Dinku,
14th Feb '02.
Hey. Listen. You know I was talking to you last night? and you told me that 'thing'? God. I could've died then. Dont think I didnt ask you about it cuz I'm not interested. But the moment you told me about it. I was kinda like, Shit. Its happening. Guess you probably know what. Don't you? Something I was afraid of. But still. After all taht. No complaints man! you're the same to me. You're still a shit-head and a pee-brain.. and my best friend. But I never realized one thing you know? It really is the truth. Having a dick really does make you fall quiet easily.. for anyone.

The person acting messenger for this letter probably knows a lot more than me but is still very much oblivious to a lot of facts. Anyways. Kinda depends on you. If you don't understand this shit I've sent, ask her for help. Might help you understand what it is all about. I mean, Obviously you don't need to tell me about that 'something'. Lol! Seriously. I haven't managed to stop laughing. Ruined Physics for me.
If you still don't get anything, tear this up and throw in the bin. But if you do, and feel that I'm wrong, do the same. And tell me how dumb I am. And if you get the whole thing, the next time you meet me, I'll know that grin.
It would be stupid of you to think that it would make any difference to me. Cuz if it did, my name wouldn't start with an 'E' (edited). It would start with an 'S'. Hehe. (Get it? stupid?)
One more thing. No matter what you do, how much you try, I wont be ready to talk about whatever the contents of this letter are. So you might as well forget about asking me what it means. You're free to reply though.
Terpesichorean.
---------------------------------------

So there's the first one. Pen on paper and all that. I was trying to fall out of love and looking around and there she was, the most obvious choice. I needed to see if I could really make a girl sing on the phone for me, and she turned out to have a rather decent taste in music too. Decent looks and everything. Who better to fuck with? Very obvious. The girl who I thought was my best friends crush and who was. He hadn't told me he liked her, and I did. Tell him. While on phone. And all he could come up with, very hesitantly, was that he was finding it hard to study, and had taken a sudden interest in poetry. Who did he think he was kidding? Sonovabitch.
Again, I must point out, that had such a thing happened while we were in college, I would've kicked his ass on the phone itself, laughed my ass out and told everybody I could tell.
It just so turned out, after the million or so hints dropped by both of us, that Soup knew pretty much everything. But not what I was upto. Every word, every action. All the chocolates. Getting down on my knees to tie my shoelaces, just to say I love you jokingly. Telling her repeatedly that she didn't know who I liked for the next 6 months after she said she didn't think she knew herself. Dragging her down from the class in the 15 mins long break just to talk after lying to her about having told our mutual friend to meet downstairs too. (This last bit was my first more-than-one-minute conversation with her. And probably what she referred to when she asked me later, "Do you remember that day?". Obviously I didn't know what 'that day' was. And obviously I stared into her eyes and smiled and said, "Ofcourse I do.".) Everything calculated to the D. Just to see if I was good enough. To see if I been plain lucky with D(which I now realize I was) or there was more to me that I saw. Hell, it was one of the reasons why I changed my section in 12th.

About 4 months after this letter, during one of our walks in the West Punjabi Bagh area near the FIITJEE centre, sitting on the stairs of a warehouse of some sort, she confessed that she had a thing for me. And I went numb, and, with my mind blank, heard myself saying, "Yeah. I've liked you for a while now." It was the 14th of May or June, and for the next god-knows how many months she wished us Happy Anniversary and I had to do the same. We sorta went out informally. Soup, knowing I was going out with D and how precious D was to me, and D, getting a cooked up story about Soup liking me. We went out for a movie with a bunch of friends, and she held my hand, and it made me sick. I knew I couldn't go through that much longer.
School ended, and I knew it was my chance to end it there. I had been there, got the results I wanted, and after all those depressing months, wanted out. But I had no idea how to do it, so I started by avoiding taking her calls, then talking less and less. We went to Polo grounds together for a Parikrama show in Jan '04 and I held her and kissed her neck from behind. Cuz I felt obliged to do so. She had got the passes. And I had wanted to go there. And I prayed she wouldn't feel the coldness in me. By Feb '04, I knew I had to end it. I blocked her on messenger, email and stopped picking her no. It ended at GIR 2004, where I made Knicker sit between her and me, completely ignoring her. The second day there, I tried hiding from her in the crowd, but she found me, threw my birthday present at my feet and walked off. My birthday present, 6 months late, cuz I had avoided her all the while. And I was left staring at the stage. DS wanted to go upfront and I couldn't cuz of the present, so he tore open the wrapping, took out the tshirt and stuffed it in his pocket, and crumpled the letter and threw it there itself. I turned around. She was there some 6 rows behind staring at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, and a dead expression on her face. Her first GIR, and I had ruined it for her. And as much as I hated myself, I knew it had to be done. And I had known no other way. Coward.
Later that night, while going back, I took a look at the tee for the first time. It had a collage of 3 of my then favorite artists. Cobain, Jon Bon Jovi, and Eminem. She'd actually got it made for me from some store in Jersey where her aunt lived. I tried it on and looked myself in the rearview mirror of the auto. And I wanted to kill myself. There was no way I could'v kept that shirt. It was like a fuckin cross around my neck. It was given away to the panwallah near my place for his kid.

About a week later, I mailed her a long long mail in an attempt to give her my made-up explanation. She replied with a long i'm-willing-settle-for-being-friends-with-you thing. I blocked her again. 6 months on, on my birthday, I got a message saying "happy birthday ET" from an unknown number. I replied with the customary thank you who is this. and I got a reply," Supposed former infactuation junkie.". Alanis. This was probably what I had done to her. But then she'd always liked her too. Maybe.. fuck. But I had changed during that time. I told her things could change if she was willing to forgive and forget. She was.
Today we're pretty good friends. We meet at class reunions and talk about this and that. Go swimming during summers to school. Joke about who's trying to touch the other persons what underwater. At GIR 2006, she sat with Anne and they talked about god knows what, while I sat scared and smoking, hoping they don't talk about what had happened, cuz Anne's been given a half cooked story too.
But I guess its ok. As much as I hate myself for doing what I did and being what I was during that time, I sometimes feel like I've been lucky to still be in touch with her. I know I paid for it. I lost D.
----------------------

In a few months, some things will probably be repeated and I would probably be hated by a lotta females and a few guys, including myself. I don't think I've learnt anything new the last couple of years. But I know I've changed enough to be able to face situations better. So for a change, I'll probably try and not act like a coward.

" It doesn't have to be like this
All we need to do is make sure we keep talking."
- Keep Talking (The Division Bell), by Pink Floyd.

Way Too Dinku. What You Never Got. (Archive)

To Dinku:
18th July '02
11:01 pm.
Hey. Expecting anything like it? Dunno. Cuz I've kinda forgotten how you used to feel. But I know one thing for sure. You know what this is about. If you don't, I guess you've probably lost yourself. Really lost it man. I've either been thinking about something for the past hour which is no big deal and got something relly fluffy up my head, or something really is wrong.. with you.
Fuck you man. I told you this before. You're not some girl that I keep thinking about you. I just called up twice in the past hour. For no explicable reason. Get it straight. It would be so much better if you blurt it out on my face. That you'd rather stay away. I mean.. if you really ever called me a friend. Or it would be nice of you to provide a reason for all this shit you're pulling. I've got enough things to fuck my mind already.
I was there when Rana asked you if anything was wrong. And you had this wicked, knowing grin on your face. Soup told me about it too. Lets be honest. We HAVE drifted. We hang out together most of the time. But how much have we really talked? Like.. Really talked? Know what I'm talking about? I could kill you right now.
But I guess I'm cribbing over something which doesn't even mean much to you anymore.
I had an hour long conversation with Rana about this whole thing. I was thinking of talking to you about it on you birthday.. or mine. Maybe Friendship Day. Haha. He suggested I shouldnt wait so long. Said I should talk to you about it tomorrow itself. (Today rather.) Cuz he's not liking it either. Not that I care if he likes it or not. Cuz this thing between you and me is far more important. But then I thought of something like this. It worked before. 6 yrs is a long time.
Listen. I dunno whether its bothering you or not. But its killing me. All upto you to set things straight. I don't expect an effort to set things straight. Just an explanation. No questions asked. I feel I atleast deserve this much out of whats left of our friendshipwreck.
I just hope it doesn't get your mind off of your studies. But its ok I guess. I guess things have reached a point where it wouldn't really bother you much.
I know you'll get there. Probably some other city though.
All the best.
ET.
11:39pm.
---------------------------

Thats something I wrote in school. To Dinku. Not a girl. My best friend. On paper with a pen. Not an email. My second letter to him, the one he didn't get. It got torn to bits and thrown in the bin the next day cuz I got mad at his behavior. Things got better later and he never gave an explanation and I never asked for one. Its still not really clear to me, but I dont care. I'm glad it didn't happen when we were in college. It wouldn't have made much of a difference then. I'd have told him to shove it and get lost and to go fuck himself etc etc and never spoken to him again. But its cool now. We've known each other for quite a while. Come to think of it, we spoke to each other the first time in 6th class around his birthday, when he was knocked off as the class monitor and I was voted as the next. He came over to tell me that its better if you're a diplomatic class monitor. But anyways, thats 10 years and 2 months. And these are the kinda things that I'd like to remember. Not dumb firs-kiss/first-date anniversaries with dumb girlfriends.
I feel bad for people who've never had such close friends. They can never learn to trust others.
And I hardly ever pray for myself or my friends. But whenever I think about it, I hope that we all do well in life and die as golf buddies.

Take Me And Dry The Rain. A Near - Perfect Life (I Will Talk, And Hollywood Will Listen.)

Song: The Beta Band - Dry The Rain (High Fidelity soundtrack).
Mood: Somewhat upbeat.
Movie watched: Rebecca (1940, Alfred Hitchcock).

Something inside that you wanna say
Say it out loud it will be ok.

And so the words go.. Should I let Anne know, or should I continue with the penance? I go out for a movie tomorrow with her. Pyaar Ke Sideeffects. I think I shall continue with the way things are. Its a difficult task. Being a boomrang, knocking her out to the floor, and then leaving her there instead of picking her up. But I guess I'll stay, and try to learn how to deal with things instead. In the meantime, I can sit here and think about all the voids she hasn't been able to, or rather, I haven't let her fill.
Song: Sheila Nicholls - Fallen For You.
Thats probably what she'll be singing in her own world, in her own words. And I'd probably stand there helpless, all fucked up cuz there wouldn't really be much for me to do then. Or maybe I'll never tell her. Maybe I'll let her have the time of her life. I know she loves me a lot, almost like I love/loved D. So maybe I'll be kind and generous and big and leave her like D did. And then she'll either feel small about it for next god-knows-how-many day/months/years, or hopefully, I'll be a cherished memory.
Song: Jack Black - Let's Get It On (Marvin Gaye cover)
Or am I kidding myself? Am I just trying to feel all big and important in her life? I mean, I'm just another part of her life. Fuck it.
<---next--->

Last night I went with my parents to watch Khosla Ka Ghosla. I knew it was gonna be good, but not so good that it would keep me excited for the next two days. Best depiction of characters I've seen in recent times. ITO, ISBT, Chartered Buses, Property Dealers, Sainik Farm houses, new upcoming plots of lands and jat people, just like I get to see them around me. A plot thats so Hrishikesh Mukherjee-esque, and actors who don't act out loud. Only true.
So I got back home and sat idle for an hour and cooked up schemes of starting a Movie Club of sorts for people interested in watching good movies, time of inception and language no bars for the movies. Find a place, buy a projector to connect with my computer, charge an odd 50 bucks a month to avoid shitass people from turning up, and have 4-5 shows a months. Like, on Sundays maybe. The money would probably go for the internet usage/sound system fund. Seems like a good idea. Maybe I'll act on it when I turn 57. Or 60. Yeah. I'll probably retire then and get a large fancy farm and hold bar-be-que parties and sit and read in my decently-lit library and sip on some good scotch in octagonal glasses while listening to some blues. Or read the newspaper in my garden under an umbrella on a cane chair in the morning. Oh. And the cigarettes. Yeah. I'll probably be importing Cartiers then, or better still, will have switched to Cigars. How cool is that? And then run my movie club. I'll think up of some fancy british sounding name for it. Like Chelmsford or Old Baker Str or something. Now. Just how grand is that? I'll be the fancy and knowledgable 60 year old who'll be looked upon by 20year old elitist kids who would want to live like me when they're done making money and owning their Mercedes or private Jets. And I'll probably tell them about all the music that I heard and what band/artist wrote what and when and why. Yeah. Grand Old Uncle ET.
Then there's the 50s. When I'll probably be like.. the 50-something gazillionaire CEO having board meetings with my board of directors and taking important decisions about upsizing and acquisitions and all those things that make the sensitive index so sensitive. My son would be in a good position in my company, working his way up, or better still, starting out on his own as a budding painter/moviestar, and fucking girls by the dozen. He'll join me for golf in the mornings and drink with my golf buddies in the evening at the exclusively-for-the-richest club sometimes, but stay close and intimate with whoever his date is then. Yeah. No marriage crap/presure from my side on him. And then I'll go to Greece/Mediterranean/private little island on New Years Eve on my private jet, and spend some time fishing and on my yaucht, listening to some good classical pieces by Chopin or Beethoven. Intimidating Mr. Tobacco, CEO, Innovations Inc.
There's not much I know about how the 40s are gonna be. Really. I haven't seen anybody in his 40s, earning billions and really doing something worthwhile. Bill Gates? He's too fuckin boring. Mallya maybe. Yeah. I'll come out with exciting new and innovative products for the consumer in my 40s. I'll have figured out the zig-zag graphs by then for sure. Around the time I'll be saving up for the private Jet after getting bored with all the chauffeur-driven Mercedez/Rolls. Go home to a growing kid and ask him about all the things going on in school and his first girlfriend and taste of cigarettes, and offer him drinks which he'll devilishly refuse. Perfect. Yes Mr. E. Tobacco, Sir. .Brightest product innovator in the market. Clever sonovabitch for you.
30s. Yeah. So this was the part about which I was a little confused. But not anymore. After having bought my first Mercedez at 32, and earning a shit load of money for my age, which still wont be enough for me, I'll set down to writing a book. Not the boring CEO biography kinds written with the help of ghost writers, but self written and edited. I'll be travelling allover Europe and UK and sometimes, the US, sitting on the beaches showing off a decently worked out body and lines around the eyes and lips, staring into the horizon on the sea and on mountains and Italian cafes, sipping coffee the whole day and drinks on weekends, with music in the background, jotting down whatever might come to mind. The product would be an inspired work of fiction, humorous ofcourse, with which people of all ages will relate. It would become a sleeper hit, and after 3-4 years of brilliant reviews that I'll read in my centrally air-conditioned bedroom with a coffee in my hand, offers to write the screenplay for the movie on the book will start pouring in. I'll cowrite the screenplay with some established guy and a brilliant funny, light-hearted movie will come out that'll win everybody over. No Oscars or Pulitzers. Too flashy. A Booker maybe. The news of me marrying my girlfriend for 9 years will get a 6 column article in the newspaper and an interview in a few current affairs magazines. The news of a baby boy a couple of years later. ET, the ex-most eligible bachelor in town. Innovator, novelist, Brand ambassador for Cartier/Mon Blanc/Rado.
20s. Ahh. The most dreaded and still the most exciting time in life. I'll be sitting up all night in front of my computer, working my ass off and smoking cigarettes, calling potential business partners up at 2am with new ideas that might work. Going out to some good pubs, rocking out and having a good time with good friends twice a month, with the rest of my life at the back of my mind more than ever. Single, and having one night stands. Meeting the girl-to-be at a dumb bar or an entrepreneur conference by chance, meeting her a couple of days later for a cup of coffee during lunch break, then later for dinner on the weekend and better than average sex once in a while. Then suddenly coming up with the perfect idea that would ultimately start pushing me up the social and business ladders. Share and celebrate the happiness, and a 2 day vacation to a Goa with her. Charming ET. Gonna be a big man someday.
<--- --->

Not asking for much am I? I've been good and honest to myself for the most part of my life. And I want to be too. I deserve the kind of life I want. Its called Karma with a heavy rate of Interest.
So what was meant to be a simple, short entry, suddenly turned into what I know to be one of my favorite entries ever. Just brilliant. Oh. And I forgot. Add my name to the credits of a couple of billion selling albums as producer.