January 25, 2009

“We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.” 
                                                                                    –Tyler Durden

To be satisfied with everything is such an impossibility. And so is being unsatisfied about all things. When the excuses you find becomes of no further use, then you want a change. You are so much unsatisfied about yourself and you have to choose. You have to find out the best façade among all. But the one you choose would never work with you. And that is why you are always so much unsatisfied. Then you got to make another choice. It’s like a cycle. And soon you will forget what you really want and what you really are. Being confused about how to pretend is such an awkward state of life. I’ am tired about it.

Now, do forget the bakwaas. A while since I came on the blog now. This should be an update post or something. Life continues to be that little bitch. But it’s quiet okay with me now. The college is getting so boring and I find no interest in whatsoever they teach there. The fucking Lab guy there wants my hairs shortened. I have been working on this shit for a long time now and all of a sudden he wants it all cut down. No, it’s not about losing the hair, but about ‘Why the fuck should a bald headed lab assistant guy tell me what I should do about my hair?’ Is this their way of making the perfect bunch of unemployed engineers for the days to come? Fine anyway. Also, Internet connectivity had become such a scarce thing in my life. With more working days and the poor fucking wifi network provided by the college, the future seems so dull. By the way, why on earth am I droning about the college in the blog? Nothing makes any sense no more.

Last night a few of us friends had a weird interesting conversation on ‘How important it is to have an ability to sing’. Singers are turning out to be the sexiest people on the world. People unconditionally love this singer guys. Girls do it with added ‘unconditionality’. Now that’s something which surely doesn’t comfort you too much. Especially when you know that you can’t sing very well. While in the conversation we all admitted how envious we are all about these singing people. I mean we do love singers and all that but ain’t this a bit of a biased kind of world that we are living in? You could see this as the weak man’s side of the story, but that makes no difference to me whatsoever. Okay, now nothing goes unresolved when we friends have a serious talk. Finally we all decided to learn at least one musical instruments in our days. To splash water over that burning feeling of unworthiness and to convince ourselves that we are trying. Sick it sounds, but sicker it would be without something like this! No, but seriously, I have been craving to learn some kind of a musical instrument for a long time now. Haven’t decided which one or where, suggestions are open and are welcome on this. Lately, I have been so much depressed about how lazy things are getting to be and how badly I ‘am being all the more invisible to the world which I would love to get noticed by. It’s all complicated and it happens with everyone I think.

Well so much for the whining now. The perfectly senseless and weird post already served its purpose, as I ‘am feeling a bit better now! And I ‘am feeling hungry too.

P.S: In Tyler Durden, we trust!


The Grandma Who Never Died !

January 27, 2008

The old grandma was 89 years old. She was in a pretty bad condition, she was already half dead! It has been more than 2 years since her world had shrunken into this small bed in the corner of the darkest room in the house. Doctors had found several definitions for her condition, but no one really cared for all those medical details. She was getting too old and these things should be happening. A nurse was appointed for talking care of grandma and everyone was busy on other jobs. Her memory wasn’t completely blank, but they were in no definite form. She tried too hard but couldn’t remember the face of her husband (she knew there was one) but could well recollect the necklace she wore on their marriage. Her eyelids and lips were the only movable parts left on her aged, crumbled body. Even they moved, only when they wanted to move and not really when the grandma wanted them to move. Difficult condition you see! But, grandma was alright. She have become used to all these. She had no time for complaining, for she was unconscious for 80% of her lifetime and with the rest 20% she was extremely busy, with stuffs like food, medicine and similar things…

In her sleep, she used to have dreams about her olden days and very rarely about her future and present. She knew that, of all things that can happen, a ‘perfect complete death’ can be the only solution to her problems (Yes, she was very much aware of her condition). But she however was afraid of death. So she never loved such dreams she occasionally had (referring death).

They say that people are put into such conditions, even deprived of an opportunity to die, for the sins they have committed over their life time. The more the number of sins the more will you suffer! You are assigned a particular time span to agonize like this, according to the size of your misdeeds. Everyone knew that grandma will have to wait till this ‘period of punishment’ assigned to her gets over. Death will follow then. There was always many people coming and going into the house to visit and sympathize grandma. She belonged to a rich zamindar family which had association with a lot of people. Her husband was a very respectful person in the village and was known for all the good deeds he have done to the village for its developments. But the villagers believed that this man had a disastrous family life. In the eyes of these villagers, our poor grandma was a bit of a crooked lady. They even accused her for the early death of her husband out of a heart attack. This crooked image of grandma remained as a solid proof for all those ‘sin and suffering’ stories.

The grandma was staying with her eldest son and his family in their old house at the village. So one fine day, a brand new member came into this house. Grandma’s eldest son’s third daughter gave birth to beautiful son on that glorious day. The house was rejoicing for this new gift they got. Large number of relatives, neighbors, friends and acquaintances rushed into the home. The house suddenly got too crowded. Big noise and Celebrations everywhere! And in the dark corner, our grandma (of course, unaware of every new development) wakes up from her sleep. She hears all these big sounds all around her. It was not pleasing to her ears. She was horrified. She supposed something bad is coming her way. She knew it. She was sure. What else could be that…other than DEATH….…Yaman is coming her way and his large bull was making this horrifying sound…extreme fear started to fill grandma’s half awake mind. She tried to open her eyes…with all her strength…she didn’t want to die…she tried to keep her eyes open…and now to her surprise….she can clearly see all those things around her…she can see so many people around her, much more people than she have ever seen. Grandma can’t recognize those faces, but sure they seems familiar.

Suddenly, with a chill grandma realized the possiblity that she is already dead…and these people are gathered here to mourn for her ….oh yes….Death have at last come over her. Grandma felt something unexplainable on her mind. She didn’t want to think more about it then. With a silent sigh she closed her eyes..tightly…as if she agreed her defeat…!


The small crowd around me bursts into loud laughter. I too laughed, though not that loud as others did. Such a story was an assured part of all those gatherings we used have on those evenings. It was a long time ago. I was a kid then. People from our neighborhood forms the part of this meeting. Such meetings meant a lot of fun for all. The point is that this ‘grandma’ her eldest son and her eldest sons 3rd daughters 2nd son…all were real people who lived somewhere in our vicinity. But however, was the story real? I ‘am not yet sure. There was of course the fun of crafting rumors. Maybe those stories were true….at least to some extent…well who cares…? There were plenty of such similar stories…each day you get to hear a new one…some…I never understood anything…but that fact that I remember many of them even today is enough proof of the joy I had at those times. These things stays among my favorite childhood memories…


The tale of a coin…

December 9, 2007

It was one another post ‘football match’ evening time. I was extremely tired after the game. Football games are great exercise, especially when u doesn’t know how to play. Running, running and running behind a ball… ho, I never used sweat these much on physical exertions, well indeed, times are changing! So we played football and I was tired. And I wanted some refreshment, nothing big, just a soda surbath (lime juice) or something like that. It should be chilled and it should be drunk in one gulp! Fine, so you need minimum Rs. 5 for the whole deal. But all I have got is this one BIG note and a 5 rupee coin. The 5 rupee coin however, is special. It is the latest addition from the Reserve Bank of India and it is made of ferritic stainless steel (no small deal, you see!!!)! [the new coin, it could be easily mistaken for a 50 paisa coin] I got it one week ago from a KSRTC bus, and since then I was proudly conserving it, like a valuable collector’s item. I’ am not ready to give it away. So, I borrowed little money from my friends and had that soda surbath! All too proud me! And the next day, again I was put into the same thirsty situation and I didn’t want to borrow money this time. I had that BIG note still with me, but the shopkeeper, I know won’t be too pleased with that. Hey, so what, can’t I adjust a bit? A little bit of thirst is nothing. I canceled my refreshment for the day. All too proud (and thirsty) me, again!

So, for the weekend I came home (from the hostel) with the latest five rupee coin still in my wallet. I never spoiled a chance to show off my great collector item to one and all I met and I was never ready to spend it, neither in the bus, nor for the auto rickshaw nor anywhere else.

And…err..but, now, when I look into my wallet, I don’t see a fu*king trace of that all too great coin! Where the fu*k did it go?? I ‘am screaming. For my thirst, for my pain (!), I need the coin back!! May be mom took it and gave it to a beggar (obviously, mistaking it for a 50 paisa) or someone else took it for something else. Whatsoever, I need the coin back…….! WTF, who cares? The coin is gone..accept the truth…
your coin is lost….!