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.

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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.