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.

Take The Anger.

Song : Circus Monkey - It Couldn't Be Ann/ Unknown Artist - Track 19 (repeat)
Days since I last smoked : 6+


So here's news. Courtesy Mr. Infinite, I've jus found out the name of Ms. Fantasy and he was gonna reveal more about her till I stopped him cuz then she'd become someone real and closer and less unknown and hence less a mystery. But its funny though. A lotta things she likes.. I mean, she's one of those elitist kinds, and does a lotta unexpected things, and thats as far as our likeness goes. She's all bling bling and likes to dance and stuff and listen to all kinds of indie crap. Hell, she likes Chaandni Raatein too. So what is it about her that I like? lemme see. First off. I know I'm in love with the way she writes. Then.. Theres probably all the travelling that she's got to do. Theres all those things that she's gone through which are pretty much real and theyr things she doesn't really feel too guilty about, or is probably too tired to feel it, the tired part of which is probably something I wouldnt envy much.. but still. It manages to give off quite a heavy impression in terms of her experience.
Whatever. I was offered to read her older blog but I refused. What if she didn't smoke at the time when she wrote the previous ones?

So last night, Anne sends me this song which has no name and no artist name and I figure I'd be able to google the lyrics. And then it kinda kills me, more so cuz I can't find any info on the song or who sang it. What kinda indie crap is this? Thats the 'Unknown Artist - Track 19' that I've been listening to. I'd like to believe that its 'Fuel - Anger', but its probably not Fuel and is probably called something else. So I'm probably gonna mail this song to myself for safekeeping cuz you never know when a deadly virus might kill your computer and leave you braindead for the rest of your life.

Interstellar Perversions. Bolder Than Love.

September 25

Song : Waiting On The World to Change/ I Don't Trust Myself/Belief (entire album. Continuum)
Movie: Just watched Manhattan. Woody Allen. He's a bastard. So is Nick Hornby. So am I. and so are a lotta other people, who secretly provide/look for their own reflection in everyone else. The lazy, I-am-all-that-matters, whiny, self-centred, Sun-revolves-around-the-Earth elitists who think that they're the bar when it comes to being a jack of all trades.
Mock Percentile: 95.71. Thats a fuckin slide of about 4%.
 What a warehouse of bullshit. Thats just me describing myself. Thats what all the songs that I listen to define. Or anything else I find fascinating for that matter.
I find it relieving to find people who are anything like me, who share a form of weirdness or thought with me. To find that I'm really not insane. And if I am, then I'm not the only one. And infront of these people I can take the risk of saying things which I'm normally only allowed to think, and others can only laugh/smile about it cuz they think so too, but don't really take the same risk.
I just watched Manhattan. (Spoilers ahead.. if you dumb bitches ever plan to watch it.) Watching these kinda movies is always a guilty pleasure.. Cuz the man on screen has a similar, if not the same kinda humor, and is in a situation where you can almost imagine yourself in, when you're 42.. even if thats twice my age.. So Isaac (woody) is this 42 yr old who starts goin out w a 17yr old whose quite hung up on him.. an he's got a married friend who's seeing a German hottie, and the German hottie hates the fact tht he's married, doesn't wanna break his marriage, so breaks up with him, and Isaac tells the 17 yr old to buzz off, and they start seein each other, an then the german hottie realizes she's still in love with the friend, leaves Isie to die. Isie runs back to the 17 yr old, who turns 18, an leaves for London to be an actress. Lol. Cut gaya..
But in such movies, the deal is never really about whats happening to the man.. Its more about the way he handles it.. Indiferrence.. with bouts of anger and self pity which dont ever come out.. Like.. the whole rejected, bound to shit thing taken as just another stride. All of these movies become hits and favorites cuz of people like me. We take pleasures and smile and get amused easily by such movies.. Cuz we're the ones who really try and "keep a foot out the door". And thats "suicide.. By tiny, tiny increments..". So when we see some chap in a movie in such a situation, what we really feel is nothing.. and thats what is really amusing.. that we feel nothing for the other person, cuz for once, we get to be in the 'other' person's shoes.
 
So yesterday was one of those good days where you do nothing but spend time with friends.. Smokering, Eta and Maddie, who also happen to give you good company with smokes and awesome weather in CP. And then it gets better when you take a drag with a piece of chocolate in your mouth. And its like the 3rd last or 4th last song of a newly opened killer album, where you're completely settled in with the sound of the album, and are also aware that theres still 3 or 4 songs more to go. Bullshit. Time freezes and it feels good. Thats all. And when its over, you graciously say goodnight to the new pair of lovers and look forward to what life has in store for you next, waiting for time to freeze again.
 
So I went out for a smoke tonight.. And I just have to do something about it.. Cuz now I've been thinking about sneaking in cigarettes more than ever.. And thats not something that I cant do.. its just something I donwana do. Like.. right now.. I can probably kill for a cigarette, but I'm sitting here typing, glancing at the imaginary ashtray at times.
And now I've started avoiding the 3 and a half minute walk to the panwala and getting it from the lane behind my place.. Been getting by on Marlboro lights.. But still.. its good. Coupled with music that is. So good that I had 2 tonight.
Yawnn...french connection. gnite.

Everyone Believes.. That Noone Else Is Going Crazy.

September 21

Tonight, I can safely say tht I'll be ruining my exam in the morning, on purpose, without forcing myself to not blame others. And why does it happen? Cuz I'm going crazy. And its about a fuckin girl and I'm goin crazy cuz I don't know her. Wow. just now.. John Mayer : " What you gonna do about it? (3).  Give up. Give up.". Thanks for your advice you sonovabitch. I don't think I can sleep on this tonight.. And as funny and depressing an useless an helpless as it sounds..  I could very well be in love with another girl.. this 'another girl' that I dont know.. whose name she didn't mention and I wish I could meet her and talk to her and sit with her for hours smoking cigarettes and talk about the 20 years of her life that she's spent without my knowing anything about her, maybe hold her too.. and spend those late nights sneeking out and cold early misty mornings when I can see her and noone else can.. and feel possessive, something that I've never done. To call a person rightfully mine and only mine and nobody else's. And I'd be willing to know all the Eliots and Whitmans of the world to spend more than a few minutes with her, to tell her just as honestly and frankly that even though I don't know her, I know her enough to take a chance on. And for a while, let all the guards down and be myself and tell her all about the bloody shameless acts I've been a part of, and how tiring it is to smile at people when you don't want to, what its like to appreciate and hate and accept at the same time. Tell her that I cant wait to spend those late nights at cafe's, wont hesitate to learn to sing, and dont mind growing my nails. That I can wake up early in the morning, if only to see her face, but that she'd have to live with my love for sugar and meat.
I can't wait for the winters and the cold days.. Misty mornings really.. the coldness would be there simply to accentuate the effect.. and to keep me from going numb. Because I'll be waiting, praying and hoping that you come by. Cuz after all these years, it might just be a real step in another direction, and not just a desperate attempt to feel.
Confessin' here.
ET.

C.R.A.Z.Y. Oh Well. How Can I Tell. Stop This Train..

September 19

Listening to Jason Mraz and having Lemon Tea in a chilled room. Not as good as it sounds. Had been waiting to get over with the chapter so I could sit here. I know its a fuckin waste of time and I should be doing other important things but.. hell.. forget.. I'v been over this a million times.. Its useless. So I had my first test today an it went way better than what I was expectingg.. It doesn't feel like its exam time.. not at all.. I sit w SidK for the test an we were talkin about it.. Just wasn't like it. No sweaty hands or anything.. Maybe I just don't care.. See how subtle I am?
So the past week has been spent listening to Continuum and Razorlight's Up All Night..And Mayer has somehow managed to kill me.. again.. Always fuckin writing about what I feel. Like growing up.. movin out.. the unpredictability of life after college which seems so exciting and scary at the same time. Stop This Train.. thas what its all about.. on more than a single level..  Its like.. the song was written particularly for people like graduating next year and goin out on a train for their jobs or post grads or whatever.. or tht major change in life which scares u sometimes.. or just life itself..
Then there's Slow Dancing In A Burning Room... which completely nails it.. its about what is gonna happen in the last couple of months of college between Me an Anne.. Each an every word.. and most of the stuff tht I try and avoid talking about change topics.. Its awesome.. The way he comes up with all those killing metaphors.. Slow dancing in a burning room.. again.. its about time running out and how thers not much you can do about it. its about the end and how you try to avoid lookin at it in the eye. Its probably the song that I'll be using to warn her of whats coming.. thanks j. but thawud be next yr.. which doesn't seem so distant anymore. I can picture myself listening to those two songs next year.. Though I'll probably stop listening to SDIBR once its over.. In the meantime.. I'm probably gonna try and be good to her.. She deserves it. She's good to me too. To the point where I start feeling uncomfortable.. cuz I dunno what I've done to deserve such princely treatment.
Tomorrow is Software Engineering.. Another useless subject.. with all sorts of theoretical shit meant for ppl who plan to go in for a PhD. Cuz as far as I know.. nobody uses all these dumb obsolete models in software programming except in textbooks for engineering students.
Shit. I'm gonna get back to my book. I gotta do atleast 2 more chapters.. which means reading another 80 pages or so.. Which means.. taking a speed of about 3 mins/page to actually understand the stuff... about 240 mins.. or 4 hrs.. That means even if I study continuously starting in another 20 mins.. I'll be studyin till 630 in the morning.. and will hav to wake up at 830 again for the havan for Chaiji's sharaad. which means I'll be screwing up day afters exam in the process.. wudnt it be better to slp now an study properly for day afters exam? Networking? No. so fuck off.
 
" Fear is a friend whose misunderstood,
I know the heart of life is good."
 - John Mayer, The Heart of Life (Continuum)

I Hate.. Unconditionally.

September 08

Over a month in.. And I've only managed to attend a couple of classes in college. Sounds crazy but it doesn't even seem tht long. So today I was supposed to go for the Satyam placement thing.. I didn't.. Went to college instead.. Not really. Sat at the shop.. And Smokering was there and we sat in silence for the most part and talked a bit and I realized that there were so many things and kinds of people tht I hate.. truly and unconditionally..
Like.. I hate the shop wala for not keeping cigarettes cuz yesterday he had a bunch of girls comin in askin for cigarettes. For acting likea pussyass chauvanistic bastard and for the near pious horror thought in his head about girls smoking. I wish such ppl would keep their views to themselves..
And I hate all those Levi's-Nike-wearing, Marlboro smoking 20yr old self proclaimed communist intellectuals who try to prove just how communist and intellectual they are by wearing Fab-India kurtas. I'v seen them mostly hanging out at St 'Stevens" Stephens canteen.. sorry.. 'CAFE'.. or Baristas all around Delhi discussing social and political ideologies as if the world would be a much better place to live in if only they had the law-making powers in the their hands. But you gotta hand it to them. Some of those bitches are hot as hell.
And I hate all those females who make scrawny faces and say "eeewwww!!" when they you tell them tht you smoke, but who, for the most part, will be acting all "cute" in front of you. And when they meet someone after a long time, they'd suck in their breaths and pop their eyeballs out and act as you just choked them to death by appearing from nowhere.. and then they follow up these actions by a sing-along (normal pitch) "HA-a-a (rising pitch and volume now, eyes popping out more than you evr thought they could) AAAAAAAAAAAAA-(falling pitch, but not volume, eyes slowly sinking back in, shock turning into a smile, ear to ear) -EEEYYYYYYYY". At this point, they'll suddenly tilt their head and get back to acting all cute, all the while thinking what they just did was cute too. I'll add another category of bitches here.. those who act real hip by wasting cigarettes and blowin out all the smoke.
I hate all those wannabe stud guys with white/grey Santros with tinted to death windows and a "Dude with Attitude" sticker and a loud and bad as shit music system, who "listen to rock" and play In The End and swear by Green Day, most of which is only done in the company of others. Its like they'd be elevated to a newer, higher level of social acceptance among their peers. Who know shit about electronica/techno but claim to know which are the best 'discs' in the city or be acquainted with DJ x and/or y.

All these varieties/breeds are banned from my future lists of friends. Theres probably more.. But I donwana think anymore.

Major Randomness. No. General Randomness.

September 06

5/9/06, 10:45pm.
A-ha. back home from a smoke and on this shitty piece of notepad. virtual. I'm not used to this. kinda used to the "space"pad. so much better.. And it seems like a long time since I last wrote.. It has been. So what if it seemed like another one of those late nights during the sem exams at the paranthe wali auntie with egg parathaas, tea, music, cigarettes and the security of not meeting any aquaintences? nothing. an it seems so bloody distant. Those assholes had to rape that northeastern chink from delhi univ. fuckin idiots. ruined my pretty nights. It felt good to be in different streets alone at night with music and cigarettes and noone around to stare at you. Ahh. just picked my nose. that felt good too. so while I was out, I gotta a message from Anne sayin "SHAVE". good tht she didnt call. I wouldn't have picked it up then she would've started thinking crazy shit and I might'v gotten all wry and tired simply thinking about it. good that noone called. so anyways. I'm goin to her place tomorrow and if my lucks gonna be as its always been.. Smokerings gonna msg me sayin "where?" tomorrow and I'd probably say i'm not coming cuz.. well.. simply because. full stop. I like the fact tht I can sit quietly with someone and get bored an smile watching a girl with big tits with a white tshirt with "Warning! You are being watched!" written on it in black, almost knowing that the other person mustv noticed the same thing an would be smiling to himself too. maybe I'm crazy.
I send my CAT form tomorrow. Finally. Thru with the final checklist. Doesn't seem like I'd get anywhere. Atleast not right now. I don't seem to be doing anything about it. Ma says I could go to Australia if I don't get thru to anywhere and she'd be willing to sponsor me. Hell.. I mean..Australia? I don't get it. Out of all the places in the world... Australia? I mean.. I wouldn't even understand what theyr trying to say.. forget about getting along with them. I mean.. whatever happened to the good old US or UK? Decent places aren't they? Atleast I'd be living with some civilization.. not aborgines or whatever they are called that I am forgetting/dont care to remember? Atleast I'd be able to travel someplace and get my body found by someone within a week if I die. They don't even have good music there.. what am I gonna do? what am I gonna do in a country where Bobby Cash has had top ten hits? I'd probably get depressed and get into drugs and shit fuck 25 girls a night and get HIV and die a painful death. I liked Bombay.. Maybe I should go there. Moves at a nice pace.. I'd probably be able to study/work and have fun there too. Maybe even start liking PDV. Oh. An I forgot.. Its close to goa. I could go there over the weekend and get all drunk and fuck girls I don't know and get back to work/coll by Monday. Nice.. Convenient. Very.
So much about the next year.. Its not too close.. I know how I spent the last few months in school. Each one was about 4 yrs long. with an extra leap day. so as far as randomness goes.. theres still about 9 months to go.. about another 250 days at the shop so to speak. fuckin shit. thas about as far as I'm gonna go.. Not gonna push myself to write anymore. lets see.. I'v started.. maybe I'll add more.. gonna watch a movie now. ;)
6/9/06, 12:52am
Damn. No movie.  Whatever. Its hard to explain how happy you are when you manage to fix your comp after almost 10 days during which you secretly bored urself to death. Secretly.. because you hardly told anyone about it. Hell. I'm gonna start my downloads again. Fuck off. Maybe I'll come back some other day.

Everything Changes But You. Soy Chingon.

July 21

 

Smokering doesn't wanna give me Ground Beneath Her Feet - Rushdie. Sonovabitch. But thats just one of the reasons why i'm pissed. there. He said he'll ask Eta if I can have it for a week. Thats called being tactful. Next he's gonna tell me that she refused and so I cant complain and he's not made to look bad by me. But anyways.

 

" Got a picture of you beside me.

Got your lipstick marks still on your coffee cup.. "

 - 'Back For Good' by Take That.

 

Just felt like writing it. Now I can lower the volume. I have a rather limited vocabulary. But I like to use as much of it as I can. Like.. I asked smokering's blog address and when he didnt reply, I asked him whether it was xxxsmokeringpedo.blogspot.com .. he said buzz off you're an emo.

but i wont steer away from today's topics. They constitute everything that has been bugging me for the past week or more. They are:

1. My marks.

2. My percentile.

 

Ok. All that and more.. is not gonna be here.. its probably gonna be something else. wait..

here.. i'm putting this edited excerpt from a conversation i had with smokering.. he's a nice enough guy an a good friend.. i hang out with a lotta my buddies but most would really find it very "pussy" if say.. you ever said.. " Yeah I got this awesum friend of mine an i wish I'd known him earlier.. " lol. Cuz thawud sound cheesy and senti as shit.. an getting senti is real pussy. anyways.. I am the maroon one.. and smokering is the green one.

so..

whas ur blog add.

lol

now u want it

when theyve blocked everything

yeah. u might as well give now

....?

xxxsmokeringpedo.blogspot.com?

buzz off

ok. i'm jus bored. i'll write for my own sake. jus pissed at others an myself an life in general.

yea do that. y dnt u go cut ur wrist or something while ur at it

lol. ur an emo. some dumb slang i pikd up from here

http://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=11

u might like this forum btw

whats it abt.

about music mainly

guitar

as the name suggests

but this link is for the nonsense section

hmm. no. really.. i got enough shit fillin my mind the whole day.. the least i can do to help myself is not fill it with more at the end of the day.

anyways. u havent told me what an emo is

well its nice for such times when u feel like being an ass for a while. anyway. emo is emotional

what they call ppl who hurt themselves

out of misery n shit like that

n enjoy it

ok.. u mean crazy.

n also sometimes.. ppl who listen to mushy crappy pop stuff

yea. severe cases

wht fuckin double standards do u have?

u have ur share of mushy crappy pop stuff.. u jus refuse to take it as crappy.

wtf. thts wat sm ppl on the forum say to ppl. that too sometimes

im proud of my mushy crap

yeah.. u remember the charlie episode frm hi fi?

?

wher he gives the example of skinheads who shaved their heads a week back an said tht they'd always bn punks?

yea lol

u well.. u never seem to talk abt ur hairy days now tht ur a punk

like ur embarressed or sumthin

wat crap

im embarrased abt sm stuf

but mostly i still like wat i used to

i mean.. i know if sumone plays some of those songs ur gonna sit back an enjoy it silently while hearing others bitch abt it an then maybe even smile smugly abt it

but u wont comment.. like.. u wudnt say tht u like it cuz technically it doesnt fall into the list of genres you'v defined for urself.

an u'd rather be quiet abt it cuz u wudnt want anyone to know u really listened to/still listen to tht kinda stuff.

that is the best load of crap ive come across all day

except maybe infront of me sumtimes cuz i dont mind tht

well done

im jus telling u what i'v observed.

correct me if i'm wrong. maybe i get it all wrong.. cuz apart frm music..

thers other stuff i like to know more abt.. abt ppl an music.

damn. i'll stop ther.

sorry. goin crazy

yes ur wrong

for eg

if someone plays boyzone. i wont say i dnt like it. even tho theyre a gay boy band. cos i do.

theyr anyday less gay than david bowie an freddie mercury

and if others bitch abt it ill most probably sit quietly

thts true

but only if theyre not my friends

cos i dnt talk much to ppl i dnt kno anyway

so i cudnt care less

not cos im embarrased or anything

ppl arent all tht bad to talk to.. nothin wrong in discussin views w ppl. ur pretty reserved.

or it doesnt match my fuckin genres

yes they are

theyre mostly braindead

u almost have to be dragged into a conversation.. abt anything tht starts to get into stuff on which sumones opinion really matters.

which gets plain irritating. cuz i know u probably like it too.

an im talkin abt music which might really hold real meanin to u.. not the kind which gives u ahigh

im pretty sure ppl ive known for longer than u will give u a diff opinion abt me being reserved.

i know tht too

tht sentence is fucked up grammatically

anyway..

cuz i'v seen u.. u seem to open to ur mouth to say sumthin.. an then shut up.

atleast wen we all r ther.

well tht maybe true. bcos as i said id rather talk to myself that to most other humans

lol. i do tht too.. tho that mostly happens wen i'm w a girl.

i dunno y. im not like tht wid other ppl ive known for longer

i dnt think so

obviously.

atleats

oh with girls its a diff story altogether

lol.

cuz like.. thers a small list of ppl i wish i had known earlier too.. u probably sneak in at the bottom but ur pretty much ther.. cuz its pretty apparent.. or atleast it seems to me.. that ther'd be a lotta other things i'd be able to talk to u abt.. but i have to back off cuz u dont really participate.

for the simple reason that u'v probably grown almost the same way i have..

yes i know that

u dont need to go red.

lol.

lol

wat a loser

kya bukwas hai..

i dnt think i have such a list

abe its kinda like.. u might'v had th same kinda experiences tht i had.. it jus helps to jus laugh abt stuff..

wat kinda experiences hv u had

lol. i dont hav a real list either.. 2-3 ppl maybe.. dont want u gettin all airy or thinkin im gettin senti or shit

hehe

ur talkin abt experiences wid girls rite?

(fingers x)

aww well.. u havent had any w boys have you?

lol. obviously.

bandinya.

bandiyan. i sumtimes find th word a bit crude wen describin sumone i'v bn w.

yea

it is

it seems rather random..

i mean.. v detached.. like ur jus talkin abt sum girl walkin on the street.

maybe checkin out her stuff

i get it

most of the experiences include either girls music or at sum point.. unfortunately.. parents..

hmm

me too

mine too

thts y i liked it till we were in 7th std

after that its been downhill. eternal gratefulness to the female race for that

i used to fuckin top the class till then

lol..hmm.. me 9th...no shit before tht... good rank in class.. an discussin food an porn an science.

lol..yeah. i was second.. nextto dinku

yea actually i was second or third too everytime

i dnt kno hw these females can isolate their studies from everything else.

take all the shit and still top the class i mean

lol. yeah.. theyr gonna go thru shit an claim it really affects them an then their scores end up bogglin u.

i guess its the 'idle time' tht increases.. thas how we deal w shit.. they want activity.

it jus how it is.. i usually end up doin nothin at all

yea

lol.. "when i came to a few months later.. i had flunked school an was wrkin in a record store."

i wish i was tht lucky

lol

 

So that was the conversation I had with Smokering jus when I got down to writing sumthing.More of a one sided conversation. Nothing I did not know. But I know that I'll never complain to myself abt it.. that I never tried being friends with ppl.. At least I got my msg across.. what I thought and had observed abt him. I know he's probably still on guard. But I know he's bloody human. He could probably kill me for doing this. Lol.. Or everything might go back right where it was before the conversation. I don't know. I still stand by what I said. I wish I'd known someone who knows almost as much about music and books as I do.. and movies.. and relates to them too.. and had similar parallel experiences about girls and music to be shared openly. like.. and I had known him right from the start. Dinku is almost perfect. except maybe the girls bit. I can tell him stuff shamelessly enough but its better to know that you got a guy buddy who not only understands but also relates with the shamelessness.

Blame it on the movies and books for making heroes out of William Kane & Abel Rosnowski.. fucking idiots.

Sold Out.My Top Five Completely Personal,Close To Heart, Secret Favorite Albums.

February 22

My top five completely personal, close to heart, secret Favorite Albums :
1 . Jon Bon Jovi - Destination Anywhere
2. Bon Jovi - These Days
3. John Mayer - Room For Squares
4. Lifehouse - No Name Face
5. Suzanne Vega - Retrospective.. The Best Of.
6. Matchbox Twenty - Mad Season
7. T-Mix: Love Story (Personal Compilation)
8. The Wonder Years - Soundtrack
9. Incubus - Morning View
10. Maroon 5 - Songs About Jane/ Pink Floyd - The Division Bell
 
I know. These are not 5. These are 10. I don't need YOU to tell me that they're 10 an not 5. But I'll still call them my Top 5 Completely Personal, Close to Heart, Secret Favorite Albums. And you can't do shit about it. Haha! Sucker! YOU <----- Sucker! Haha.!
 
Anyways, one of most the most irritating things that happens to you like.. a million times a week and you still don't consider it a major problem in life. Forgetting where you left your pen. Like.. you're sitting on the bed an studying and you get up to have water or check out something on the computer, and you head back, and its just not there. Vanished. Dissappeared. And so you look on the little table, under the notebooks and the books, under the blanket, under the photostat notes, under the cushions/pillows, under the clothes and towel or under the empty glucose biscuit packs and the behind the mug in which you just had coffee or in the namkeen box or under the plate in which you just had a few sandwiches. You turn your bed upside down, but you just can't find it. So then you move about your room, and find it lying on the computer desk or next to the water bottle and then you kick the desk or your own bed or hit your head on the wall and in the process hurt yourself, and end up feeling like you're good for nothing, just because you forgot where you'd kept your pen. And what could be worse than that? There are 3 other pens lying on the study desk.
Now that raises 2 very important issues, relating to my life.
One : Part A of the first issue - You have a problem. For one, you consider such things as major problems in your life an in the process end up spending time thinking about them, thus having very little time for the 'real' major problems in life. So now, you have many 'real' major problems left in life, and not enough time to think about them.
Part B of the first issue - After ignoring the fact that its not really a major problem in life, you consider it to be a major problem in life, and it happens a million times a week with you. And then you start thinking about the future, and how you're gonna handle it. Its worse for me, cuz I might just be running a whole bloody business of pens. And if I can misplace a pen and forget where I kept it within a span of 5 mins, then how the hell am I expected to run a whole shitload of pens? Anyways..
Two : It took all the frustration in the world that can be stuffed into 5 minutes, to think that I'm good for nothing. Damn. I knew that right from the start.

The most hilarious, funniest line in the Computer Architecture book.. "... contents of the base register are added to the address part of the instruction to obtain the effective address of the operand. This is Similar to the Indexed Addressing Mode except that the register is now called a Base Register instead of an Index Register." .I noticed this while studying for my Computer Architechture exam in december, and it seemed so funny at that time that I actually wrote it down. But still.. if you think about it.. it is funny isn't it?
 
NEXT.
We don't realize just how influenced we are by movies and books and music do we? We don't. You feel like you like someone.. and so you go upto the person and tell him/her that " I 'LIKE' you.". And then.. sumtime later.. u just might start feeling that you're in love with sumone, and so you go upto the person, and say "I 'LOVE' you". And I'm sure that's what 99.9763% or more of you would do/have done. You won't use any other words for it. You may describe the whole thing.. but you're definitely gonna sum it all up to say.. "I like you" or "I love you".. and that and exactly that. There's like.. this whole system.. Universal system of Likeability or sumthing which is followed thoughtout the world. Here's how you categorize your feelings for other (Starting from Hate to Love)..
Hate.
Loathe.
don't like.
indifference.
tolerence.
fondness.
liking.
Love
But like.. say.. if you lust for someone, then chances are, that you won't go upto that person to tel him/her that "hey.. I lust for you".. and that's cuz you've never seen anybody in the movies or books or songs do that. You've just heard them saying "I hate you" or "I love you". Not "I lust for you" so the question of going up someone with such a ques doesn't even arise. And if it does, then you'd probably start wondering that there's something wrong with you, and that you're probably in love with the person, and just cuz you've seen tht one charming guy say I love you to that beautiful smiling girl in the movie, you're probably gonna do the same. It's like, even if you feel something else for that person, you're probably gonna try an categorize it among one of the above mentioned or similar categories, cuz its just plain simple and convenient for you. After all you're aware of the existence of these categories in other people. The movies have made you aware of them. And so you want to feel secure and sane about yourself and so you convince yourself that your feelings for someone fall under one of the 'known' categories. Fuckin' sellouts.
 
One last thing that. One thing, that pisses me off about females. They expect special treatment at their discretion. They want equal rights, equal pay, and equal treatment for everything. But when, say, you crack a joke about them in front of them, they'll start laughing and hit you or slap you a million times 'jokingly', and then they want you to "react cutely" instead of, say, putting them in a head lock and making them eat ants and/or spiders while you give them carpet burn. Why don't women react "cutely" when men hit them for a change? Oops, I forgot, that's domestic abuse. And then, they want the minimum taxable income in the income tax slab to be higher than for men, reservations in all institutions, and they want a "ladies' queue" everywhere. Even at photostat shops. And "ladies' seats" in buses. And they want you to not stare at their boobs and long legs, while they wear short skirts anda push-up bras an stick their tits out everytime their picture is being taken, just so that they appear bigger. Do I wear my pants so that my crotch sticks out showing?
Don't get me wrong. I'm not a girl/women hater. In fact, I love them. I like to think that its alright to use profanity as long as it helps you convey your message across to the other person properly. And that I'm only as much of a chauvanist as the average urban girl is a feminist. I love girls. Seriously. Its just the bitches that I hate.

I'll Have Both, Please. Thank You. Top5 Awesomely, Irritatingly Bad Artists/Band Which I Love To Hate.

November 30, 2005

.. And because of reasons beyond the reach of the mind, I sit here typing, even though I have the option of watching porn. It takes less time than this.. And... Its good for stress.. And it gets really crazy at times, especially at the end of the first day you start studying. I've been doing Microprocessor Systems and Architecture, and trying to make some sense out of assembly language instructions and the timing diagrams of their instruction and machine cycles. Actually its not all that tough. But I like to make it all sound like its all very complicated. And I'm just being modest. I can very well make sense out of them.
<---edit waste------>
And I've been thinking about this the entire day. In fact, for over 2 days now. My Top 5 Awesomely, Irritatingly Bad Artists/Bands Which I Love To Hate. (Partly inspired from Vh1 and High Fi.)
Scatman John. Face it. We are satisfied with one, there is no more place for another, and we do not want another Beethoven.
Vengaboys. Boom Boom Boom Boom. I'll beat you up if I ever saw/heard you in or around my room.
Aqua . Calling Dr. Jones. No surprises. He never picked up the phone.
Las Ketchup. Screw you for introducing that dance dumb bitches.
Rednex. Where did you come from. Where did you go. I'm least interested, I don't care to know.
If there was any more space, I'd fit in Los Del Rio for wasting precious magazine paper on the most irritating dance moves ever to the most irritating song ever. Its written here cuz Top 6 doesn't sound as good as Top 5. No. Wait. I think I find them so irritating that I'll fit them in with Rednex. Haha. I'm clever.

And I've been foolish enough to spend 80 mins writing here, when I could've gotten over with my break in 20 by watching some porn. But I'm worse. I'll watch porn too. Haha.

Clockwatching Wordplay. Please Don't Tell Her The Forecast.

August 6, 2005

" I set a record of sorts for myself today. Talking completely random. 3hrs straight in college, 2hrs with Sag and then an hr with Anne. Sag said I always make sense and then Anne said i've never been able to do tht. I donno if i did or not bcz I slept 2hrs lastnight...."

 I did. Talk a lot. I'm scared.  This is strange. Does having a viral cold 'n cough do it to you? I don't know what to think. If I talk about a serious topic and 4 ppl are ready to sit and listen to me and believe me, then it's wrong. Because when I talk, these ppl are trusting me, while the truth is that in all that talking I might be trying to figure myself out. My life. My feelings. My Beliefs. I am changing lives. Lol. I am changing too. I don't know. I don't know just how much of what I talk about makes sense to people and how much of it they consider it trash. Honestly, I don't know the difference myself right now. Have I started talking too much? If people sit and listen to me talk shit, is it because they relate to it an it makes sense to them or do they just find it too amusing? Or do they feel they're stuck? I hope nobody has the answers to these questions.. I hope I just get the answers myself.

I'd like to write down whatever I think when I'm reading sumthing. And then read all my thoughts sumtime later when I'm in a different frame of mind. Might help me understand why I am the way I am, if I am, the way I think I am. But I can't do it. Two reasons. One : It disturbs the flow of the book. Two : I am lazy. I'd also like to write here a lot more often than I do. But if I write here as often as I'd like to, then I'd soon have to look for sponsors cuz then I'd have to spend half of my life sitting an typing here. Also, if I do that, then I'd have no time to think at all. I don't want to let my life pass me by. I want to live it. I'm living it. Life is beautiful.

But I'm scared. I don't know if anyone can notice a pattern here. I can. And if everyone can, then I'm insane. If noone can, then its probably because I'm paranoid. I don't want to be either of them. Am I normal? Is it normal spending so much time thinking whether I'm normal or not? I guess not.

Young. Naive. Blind.Tape Me. Finally Certified SENSIBLE.Thank You.

July 18, 2005.

And now that I'm here.. I can't think of much to write about. For a lot of things happen, and even though I hate to keep things from here.. certain requests just cannot be refused. Damn. But I guess it's ok to write and bitch about not being able to eat the whole day. Like today.

I like to think about random little things and feel happy about them. Cuz I know that when you really think about them, they're all funny.. well.. most of them.. Or atleast you can make it look real funny in cartoons.. Like.. in this one episode of The Simpsons, this piece of tape sticks to Homer's finger on a bus and he tries to remove it with his other hand but it sticks to the other hand. I mean, these things are funny when you actually think about them. I like funny. Especially if its funny in a real world's little things kinda way.

So pa woke me up at 8 in the morning cuz I had to go with him to get the car fixed. It was heating up too fast and we had to stop thrice travelling 15kms to fill the carburretor with water (app. 10Litres total) and it the needle was up to the red mark by the we got there too. And that's where the tape thing happened. And I started laughing. I mean.. One would think the other persons crazy cuz he's gets his kicks playing with a piece of sticky irritating tape. But it wasn't crazy. It was just plain funny. And it becomes very hard if you try to explain it to someone just how funny a piece of tape can be.

So anyways. I got back home at 4, took a shower and left. I have a moustache today. Haha. like.. a 60's/70's thing which ends only below the lips. And no hair styling cream too. Haha again. I figured I might as well do as I wish while I'm single.

I had trouble finding parking space there. The first CL class was dumb.Damn. I mean.. I was expecting better people there. So there's Preeti there who's atleast ok to talk to as long as she doesn't crack jokes. Shit they hurt as hell. Real bad jokes. And then you wonder where all the Sardar jokes come from. But like.. she's funny.. like.. her jokes are horrible but it's not like they're not jokes at all. This kid who was in my school is also there.. He was with me in FIITJEE too.. though not in the same batch. He was one of those quiet kids who performed above average academically but seldom spoke otherwise.. the kind you forget about completely until one day when you suddenly hear from someone that he came out of the closet. Anyways.. His name's Mohnish. There was another, similar girl from my school whose name I didn't know and didn't bother to ask.

The day turned from good to bad and then back to good within a span of an hour and a phone coversation, during which time I let Bon Jovi make me feel worse than I already was and smoked.

"You've been the blood.. In my veins.. "

I hate it when people say they smoked cuz they were feeling down/depressed. That's just no fucking excuse. And I've always taken pride in admitting that whenever I've done it, I've done it cuz it felt good, not because I was down. And that day I just did it. It did not make me feel better.Or worse. Nothing at all. And I called up BalloonK and choked on the phone and almost broke down. Shit. What a  loser. Happened almost twice in 3 months. But I guess I manage somehow. And just when I had the perfect title ( "If I Could .... I Could've."  Lol. it's not exactly perfect.. but it did seem so at that time.) for an entry, the damned phone rang again. WHY!!??  It would've been brilliant. I had the lines coming in perfect flow..  Fuck it. Pray for me. Pray that my blog remains happy and content(filled).

You know how it is?? Like.. whenever anything happens, all you think about is.. "how would I write about this on the blog??".. I mean.. even if someone's dead or someone had an accident shaving his balls (not me.) Like.. the day before.. When Kant managed to slam a dunk, but swung in the air and fell on his back from a height of 9 feet, even though I was genuinely feeling sorry for him, a part of me was forming sentences in my head.. the way they would appear here.. and the worst part is.. that so many notes are never posted here cuz they're lost or forgotten. I'm sorry. I regret not having an efficient version of notepad in my head.

God. Send update patches for I am too lazy to carry a real notepad around (I've tried.. ). So I think I'll end it here and enjoy the song playing. Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here.

The Ruler's Back. Puke Over Low Pass Filters. Regret.

June 18, 2005.
God. I hate to waste more space on a bunch of losers.. so how was it that I wanted to start this post?.. shitt.. I had thought up a million ways earlier during the day.. and now I feel blank. but then this has to be done.

This blog was meant to be a confession.. not about my mistakes or crimes or sins, but about my feelings. Me, mine. most of the ppl I know weren't even supposed to know this thing even existed.. It was meant to be read by other ppl who shared similar feelings/sentiments, who might just relate to 4 or 5 of the 300 lines in my posts and feel that it was something they've always felt but had never been able to come up with lines to express it. The mails and comments that I've recieved seem to indicate that I've been successful to a certain extent.. Me. Mine. But it seems some that some vile hellish lying doormats still consider it their fucking responsibililty to read each post of mine, filter out most of the stuff I've written, and then deliver the 'relevent' news to respective ppl, which ends up being taken in an altogether different.. seemingly 'evil'(lol) manner.. and finally making
the other person so full of shit that they have to personally call me against their wishes to ask me to stop posting stuff about them or anyone else for that matter..

:-P I refuse. Balls. As simple as that. I shall post here whatever I want. I shall spit out as much love/poison I like about whoever I like.. And they shall remain my own personal feelings. I refuse to feel/think the way you might ask/want me to. So I'm still gonna call Ron a vile sonovabitch who likes fucking donkeys and cries all the time like a fucking loser and say "haan mein loser hoon".. alll of these as a pastime. haha. Ron --> (donkey). haha. And the other one..( I don't like to take his name.. cuz its a guy's name..) but he seems to walk and act and talk and live and look like a fucking eunich.. fucking disgustingly sissy.

hahaha.

This place was never meant to have posts directed at anyone in particular. But those losers just had to drag it into their own kiddish quarrels. what a fucked up bunch of low pass filters.

I regret writing any of this. Not because I didn't mean any of it, but because I have to be so vague and anyone new reading this would find it hardly interesting to start with.. except maybe learn a new combination of swear words... and I wouldnt get 2000 hits a week again.

To all other decent readers who know me, atleast follow the first rule regarding personal blogs.. You don't discuss personal blogs with anyone.. esp with the blogger, unless you'r stuck on an isolated island with that person and have done the top 5 things that you had planned for such a situation..

And some of you not so decent readers.. well.. i wish you are lost someday on an isolated island all alone and without a wireless/satellite radio/communication unit and dont get to do the top 5 things you planned.. so that you can't ever discuss it with anyone. you dont deserve to live in this world and the world doesn't deserve you. you refuse to respect an individuals privacy and you dont deserve to have any of it either. may you be caught naked on the streets so that everyone can see that your gender is unique in this mortal world and that you have unstable odd no. of balls which explode without an outlet,within themselves every 2 minutes and 21
seconds. If you're one of the ppl who I've been insulting throughout this post, then
I must commend you on your ability to stand humiliation but then your sort of ppl (I have to think each time I include you among 'ppl'..) don't have any shame left within your souls, any of which if is, left within your slimy bodies.

Like I predicted yesterday, the very next day, within 2 hrs of reading this post sum loser started having a bad 23 chambered stomach ache because he couldn't digest what little I had written about him and had to bitch about it and fight and mess around with someother individual, otherwise his odd no. of balls would have exploded more than once in the 2 min 21 sec time slot. Damn.. each day, I get better at predicting what's gonna happen the next day. But this time, I can't seem to predict what will appen tomorrow.. Can the lowest stoop any lower? Let's wait and see. Till then, everyone else except the losers take care of themselves.. and beware never to make such friends as these.