Shouting and screaming online...

My father told me to never publicize work. He came from an era where your work speaks for you. These were the time where one never judged a book by it's cover or title. If the work was of quality,the word went around by mouth
Fast forward a few decades,things went mass market. Everything got focused to capture the rising aspirations of the people. We,at a social level are still riding to that wave of aspiration. Products,any kind we can think of have opted for appeal over substance..........
OKKKAY!! Toooo serious!! This is MY blog!!! Nothing serious happens here!!!!

See,it's been a while since one thing has been bothering me. I make it a point to become a pain in the arse of everyone I know who may bother to check my posts,be it facebook,google+ etc.etc... Ever since I came to know that people actually read the stuff you write on your 'blog',specially when every time I log on to my page,I see this number staring me in the face,labeled page view. I would have never realized the addiction to watch this number increase with my every visit,had I no started writing as a hobby.
All I want,every single time I visit my page,is to see a bigger number than the last time!! Now, the guys who built this facility to write,gave you sufficient methods of spreading YOUR word around.You have access to all social networks where you can shove your blabber down the throats of your online social circle,leaving it upto the 'friends' to digest/throw up your intellectual gibberish. Or,you can leave your chants as it is,and some inquisitive minds will find your blog titles intriguing enough to click on. The best part is when you see the map of the world having regions marked in green,showing you the far and wide corners of the globe from where people actually go about reading your stuff,you bloody well feel like an author without the pains of running behind a publisher to print your stuff.
All you need to see is that your TITLE is catchy enough.Speaking of titles,In recent times,authors(the official ones) have lost their inhibitions in naming their books.
It's not that I have seen 4 generations go by,but,what I have seen is a gradual transition in the reader's palate. Long gone are the days when words like sex/fuck,in a book's title stopped people from buying it.
A while ago,I saw this title 'Fuck it,The spiritual way'.I was sllllighhhtly taken aback,equally amused. Then recently,I saw another book about 'legendary historical fuck-ups'.Yeah,that one costed a fortune,which eventually kept me from purchasing it. But as usual,that isn't the point!! The point here being that there are fellows gutsy enough to put up risky titles,that surprizingly(not so) has a receiving end.And so much for what? Yes,to earn a living. As cocky and unlike the usual 'me'as it may sound,gone are the days of the subtle. Times have come,where before anything you feel anything tangibly, it turns up on Facebook,you like it a million times.The creators push your excitement to the point you stick to some form of media like Youtube to get the juice out of anything you are looking forward to,and when it is out in the world,very often it turns out to be a complete disappointment. Just for instance is the cycles of promotions a movie release goes through.

I am yet far from ending a post conclusively but all of what I write is basically a battle between what I feel is right and what my father told me long ago.I have this new found liking of watching documentaries on many of the things that we use in our day-to-day life.It turns out that ost of it is all show and no go.A result of easy access to the masses.
I feel,there is no one pole you can cling to that will take your ship across the ocean.

Ahhh,forget it!!! Just somehow read this!!! I want to be happy!! 

Let's get it wrong!!

It is a cumulative 21 years of careful,conscious(maybe) and exhaustive(for me) observations,ladies and gentlemen,that you see here right in front of you. Annd it all came from someone who sprang up fom sleep at 4 a.m. and decided that the world is ready to view the contents of his mighty little brain. Hmm... sounds right about right..Right?? Yeah,we all,the whole of bloody mankind!! the whole of ruddy Homo sapiens,Homo e'rectum',Homo whatever!! an all of ....well basically we come from a history of 'Let's get it RIGHT', or maybe,'Let's figure it out' and the likes.

Then we ponder over this question of WHY this dude called god sent us down here,(no offence to believers),or what is the purpose of life and all. So basically we all try our level best to be as 'right' as possible. I mean,the word 'wrong' is as much a taboo as the THREE LETTER WORD....hmm...how do I put it?? Oh chuck the word... Okay you get it don't you.So that is apparently how life goes,and most of us live it as it goes..THE WORD IS SEX(by the way)!!

Yeah,and to fix this innate tendency of ours to screw it all up,we have workshops,pep talks,consultants,psychiatrists(wow just figured out the correct spelling for that one) etc. etc so that,somehow we all get it right by the end of the day.

I recently saw this TED talk by Kathryn Schulz about 'Being Wrong'...I heard this term WRONGOLOGY for the first time in my life.So she somehow chose to be a wrongologist(Okay,It does sound like professional catastrophe ) but then she says it has no job competition. Okay,Fair enough. Whatever,keeps her happy. I mean who gives??Eh? Anyone?

See??That is the real point!! Nobody gives a THHHHINGGG! 

What is wrong? The best definition I can see of Wrong is this-something that's not right.Yeah I checked the dictionary too,it blurted words like 'Incorrect',unfair,blah blah ...yap yap...That is probably the one word on that page that had the most number of meanings. Wow,how many ways can you type the meaning of a word consecutively?? Seriously!! Get a life...Or do it if the number of meanings you have is one/2 more that the closest competing dictionary company.

Basically what this wrongologist had to say is that until we don't  look at things with a possibility of them being wrong,we will never really realize that it is,in fact,okay to be wrong.

I know I am missing 'N+22' points that I want to say,but I am desperately running out of motivation to write any further.So I shall leave you with this...

Right is fine..But do something wrong...It may be fun :)

http://www.ted.com/talks/kathryn_schulz_on_being_wrong.html

My very engaging love story....

Yeah... Even my title is the same as another writer's.... with just a change....
I 3 have a love story.....
The ONLY engaging part,or should I say engaged part of my story is ....The GIRL!!!...................
..........................................................................................................................................................
SUCKS!!!

Yeah...you read that right!! The girl is engaged..and all the '....'s are not my tears...Okay they kind of are. FINE!!!!! Screw it!!!!!
I am in a kind of a dilemma.. I run into her...pretty uncomfortably often....Annnnnd she's with THE guy.... hhhuuwwwaaaannnn....uuuuuuuuwwwwwwwwaaaannnnnnn... Okay,that's me trying to tell you that I am crying in words..Never mind. Okay,so this,probably as you know it,is MY RANT.
I type what ever I feel like,and very often what I don't want to feel like and post it and somehow,miraculously get people to read it...
By typing that,I take a big risk of losing those few people who happen to read what ever I write. I am willing to take the risk. I usually take risks. I took the risk of asking this girl out,the one about whom I mentioned above. Here's the best part,and the most stupid part too... I asked her out in front of THE guy. Maybe not the best way to make her firmly believe in my feelings,but for sure,I meant every word of it.
Whatever gave me the extra guts,balls and sucked the brains out of my skull,I sort of thank it.
Right now,I am listenning to this concert by John Mayer in Los Angeles. He's playing "Stop this train"... Love the song,and the things and the girl I mentioned above.
The song puts me into a contemplative frame of mind,YYeeaaahh...mind,barely have one.

Today's nonsense shall revolve around the girl. We don't really talk. I mean...Yeah,we........don't talk.
End of story.All can pack off and go away. God damn it,How does anyone read this bullshit??

We run into each other(I am the one usually running,she's err...walking,like most humans do.) Neither of us are able to muster up so much as a smile. But there are a few things I respect in this woman!! One,Damn,she doesn't have to show as much a square inch of her skin,apart from that of her face to look JAW DROPPING-LY,MIND NUMBING-LY BEAUTIFUL!! So much so that calling her sexy would..and should be considered an insult to her beauty. There's another of John Mayer's song that perfectly describes her(I guess I was made to write this today somehow). The song is "Daughters".

Two,She is very...extremely culturally grounded. Hell that is one thing hard to come by!
I'll tell you an instance that happened recently. Yyyeah she was walking with THE guy..Now usually according to the customs she is supposed to follow, you are to wear a scarf and cover your head with it,when you are outside,specially when you are with your man,or I guess even otherwise. What this custom wants to convey to passers-by is that the lady belongs to her man only. We ran into each other. For some reason,her scarf had slipped off her head. Upon seen me,her first reaction was to put the scarf back,covering her head. She respects her guy that much?? Atleast her respect is worth respecting.
I am going to be a complete arsehole and say that she is responsible for my pathetic situation!!
So here goes...now I am the arsehole...annnd...SHE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MY PATHETIC SITUATION!!!!!
Hmmm,I guess I pulled that off pretty well.
So now that I am so done with exams,failing exams and thinking of failing exams,I want to go to this place,about 1300 kilometers from where I sit now,to a place I call home. I want to go,play my guitar,more than Bryan Adams cries about having played till his fingers bled or something,way back in 1969. I want to read all stuff I wanted to read up,watch movies till I go blind(errr.... not exactly),prepare myself for all CATs and dogs, run till roads end,do everything to the point that I have never done before,and most importantly,tell this stupid girl that I have decided not to get over her. I don't want her to be my "girlfriend". I shall be more than happy to see her as mine,somewhere inside the world that I live in...

I felt desperation today...

This is not the usual stuff that I type,so no humor is intentionally a part of this post.(Any and every thing funny is purely unintended.)My primary priority/criteria for choosing my college was that it shouldn't lie in a 400 km (250 mile) range of my house.Nowhere what so ever close enough to my house that could allow me to come home before completion of a semester.Just to get to the specifics, I am around 1300 km from my house,give or take a few kilometers.(no miles this time,the number ain't round a figure worth typing)
Reason for that priority was that I didn't want to be like the home-bred fellows I saw around me.Those guys never left the comfort of their home. I DID.And I feel great about it.But just not today.

My mom called me at around 4-ish in the evening.Usual call,nothing super important....normal for me,specially as I talk to my mom about twice a day on an average.When she called,I was busy discussing a particular question my room-mate was asked during his induction to the college club he belongs to. He was unable to answer the question at the time of induction. The call came(my mom's call) somewhere between when my room-mate was midway telling me the question.So I pick up the call,half minded,hear my mom's voice,and tell her I'll call her 5 minutes from then(so that I could hear the complete question that my friend was asked,and answer that question that he couldn't and basically show him how bright I was....) Now usually,people don't think so loudly,or at least don't want any one to completely know what they think. But right now,I am dying out of guilt,feeling completely naked because of it,probably never felt so helpless..(By the way,I am still being nagged half my brain for the fact that I DID answer the question,quite literally....)

The problem,for a change is not the question,or the answer to that question.
Remember how conveniently I told my mom that I'd call her in 5 minutes?? Yeah.....I forgot to call her. But it wasn't an hour from that incident that I remembered my promise. So I called her up. She doesn't pick up.This isn't unusual,as she may be entering a train,crossing a road,just walking on the side way..anything!!! But I kept calling...(By now,I was crying already.....I am damn fucking emotional when it comes to my mom,dad or sister).I called 4 times.My desperation came from(as stupid as it may sound) the fear of losing her somehow....and that the last words that I was to hear from her was her asking me how I was doing...(Maybe I can't convey my desperation through words).4th time I called,someone picked up the call,I breathed a sigh of relief....unfortunately,it wasn't my mom.All my relief simply evaporated.It was my mom's friend.Pretty apparently, my mom had left her cellphone in the office. The friend  told me that my mom had left with another friend of hers. So I somehow got hold of this other friend,told he to somehow tell my mom to call me back.
Then it is this painful wait,no clue of finding out where my mom is. The even worse part is the 1300 kilometers between our locations that make all my crying and whining absolutely frivolous.
.
.
.
Wait a second..I'm getting a call from my sister..........
Okay,now typing this further will be a problem.My mom just reached home.........Just felt that sigh of relief....my desperation is gone with the wind!
I fucking swear I will never tell my mom "I'll call you later".
My imagination runs far too deep into the forest to leave my sanity intact.
I could have easily stopped typing,closed this window,never let a soul read this, and left for my mess to  have my food,the moment I knew of my mom's safe return....
But I want to keep this as a reminder of how vulnerable I can be,even as much I chose to think and feel invincible.For the past one hour,the narcissist in me had left me for good. As good as it may feel and sound.............
Now he says.........
I AM BACK!! :)

Care For Some Bullshit??

I hate sleep.
And I hate myself when I sleep. And then I saw this video...it said;"If you truly want something truly,you need to want it more than you want to sleep". BIG mistake.....Not exactly!
I always hated helplessly losing half my life to inactivity,not being able to do things you want(Yeah my FINGER to all those You-need-atleast-6-hours-of-sleep-in-a-day mongers).

I consider myself a creature of passion. I am in search of something that I may be willing to give my sleep,even my life away for. I am not happy doing what I am doing right now....perhaps nowhere close. I remember Steve Jobs in his TED talk at Stanford(If I remember correctly...). He said something like this-"If I wake up everyday,and dn't feel good,and if this has been happening for a while,I need to change something."
I fel worse thinking that every moment that passes by me,irrespective of me doing what I want or not,I move closer to my end.....yess!!!! Precisely as we all do. However cliched this notion may be,you are bound to think on these lines when you see 5 fellows in your (quite literally) surroundings meet untimely death. Okay let me not dwell on that for too long..but few things get to you a lo more than you think they do.

 So I have a presentation tomorrow,for which I am yet to start preparing(I am a hardcore procrastinator,I admit!!), my end semester examination in about a day more than a week,annnd most importantly,summer vacations in about 20 days,which I drrrrreadfulllllllllly look forward to!!!!

By the way,my past one week hasn't gone all good,and I don't blame anyone for that(I make it a point to never blame anyone if I am not feeling good because......aarrrgo fuck yourself....) Thing is,If you are a cynic,you may be thinking -"This guy is a nutt!! doesn't do his work.....cries around writing a blog 'n' stuff,Yeah BIGSHOT JERK". Well,I say,for one thing,you might as well be right,but I am happy to write/type along as long as I want to,or atleast till the time the inside of my brain starts blinking red ,flashing some sort of message/warning that looks like.....WARNING!!!! WARNING!!!! TIME LEFT FOR PRESENTATION-12 HOURS. YOU ARE SCREWED!!! which quite frankly is exacty the scene I see inside my head....

Hmmm....I guessss it is time to start preparing for that presentation.....
Fuck!!! There's only 12 hours remaining!!!
I guess i found precisely what I would be losing my sleep for,at least till tomorrow!!!
Ciao!!!!!

When the strongest man cried....

It's a bird!!! No!,It's a plane!!! No!! It's SUPERMAN!!!
If you are an adult and you have lived through age 1-10(I mean how do you become an adult if you don't do that??),you know superman,yeah the same fictional character of DC comics,created by American writer Jerry Siegel and artist Joe Shuster in 1932(Courtesy Wikipedia). By the way,do you know that DC in DC comics stands for Detective Comics....Hmmmm....that's like Detective Comics comics..
Sounds like Alternating Current current(AC current) By the way there is no such thing called AC current for your information,if you do make this mistake.So did I till about 4 years ago....

If you feel that the above piece is complete bull.... I have probably started typing...(what ever that means) Problem with this post is that it deals with a topic so heavy that I am trying my best to mitigate it's intensity.We don't talk about what I am about to write too often.As a matter of fact,we don't even bother to talk to this person too often. The person's better half has been cried and mulled over to the point that makes the second half a sort of a cliche.

I don't know about the ladies,but I assume the same for them(again,no gender bias),if you have had a fortunate childhood,there is one person you look up to,without knowing mostly. In your head,he's the strongest person alive,broad chest and shoulders,arms that can fling you high enough that you feel you are flying,so strong that he can carry you and your world,he holds your hand and you don't have to worry if his grip will go loose,because it wont. He is the superman who thankfully won't embarrass you by wearing his red underwear outside in public...or,he might willingly do so to please you.He wants to be your superman.And from where I see,there is nothing wrong in his wanting to be so.Even more,he'll      do everything in his strength,even beyond that, to keep you safe,even if you have outgrown him in any and all dimensions.
When I was a kid,all I wanted to do was be like my dad.(By the way,if you just realized that i was talking about fathers,you should STOP reading and do whatever it is you can do except reading this!! )
I wanted to dress like him,walk like him,I wanted his voice,I wanted to shave like him,I wanted his moustache and his muscles and his driving skills(I am yet to acquire that one....) I wanted to wear full length pants instead of shorts because in my mind,that just made me look like my father.And so on...

There are a few phases you go through during this relationship....
1-you just know there is no way you can get hurt when he's around,
2-you know there is no way you can get hurt when he's around,but you are slightly scared of him,I                 mean evolution has made him the protector,so he's got to be tough.
3-you know the above somewhere in your subconscious,but you are too occupied with your own stuff and he fades into the background.He also happily goes to the backstage unless otherwise needed.
3-You think he just nags you for no reason.You blame him for almost all the stuff.
4-You aren't scared of him,you bloody well think you are defiant and bad-ass enough to fight with him.
You are THE adolescent,You see his weaknesses,chinks in his armor and all,then you think,he's not superman after all.Believe me,even the fictitious character must have had chinks,but he is a comic hero for heaven's sake!!(If you do realize that the word comic comes from the word comedy)
(OK,if you are lucky to be wise enough,you see the next stages..which I won't be able to complete because I am yet to see how they pan out.)
5-You realize he still will do everything to keep you safe and happy. By this time, you would be on your way to realize your own world and dreams. You miss him,He misses you,both know it,but won't publicly acknowledge the fact.You feel grateful to him(of course,yet unwilling to let him know)
but unknowingly you become close...
All the 6es',7s' and 8s' and more would have been out if I wrote this 10 years from now.But for now,I let them be.
If I were in your position,I would have surely given up reading this..for the sole reason that I didn't see the purpose in reading this.Absolutely no reason for the strongest man to cry.

Till yesterday, I was genuinely convinced that human emotions,aren't really oblivious to me,but surely,I  kind if have a binary response to them,either too intense,or none of it at all. For one thing I am pretty  sure that it is easy to stand next to a corpse than to stand next to a parent who lost his(more than)/her child.

You remember superman,I am sure. He had this weakness. Now if you were to ask what this weakness was,to a class of 4th graders,they might probably shout the word KRYPTONITE!!! You know what?? Your superman has a kryptonite too.And if you have a sibling,then he has two!! You are his kryptonite. If you don't know that yet,seriously,grow up!!

Yes,I saw the strongest man cry,surely not My strongest man,but the strongest man of someone whom I knew. And the strongest man doesn't cry,at least not that we know of. He cried. It was because,In his world,that just came crumbling down, he had failed to save what was dearest to him.

I belonged to a gang that was supposed to do the 'console' him. And around me were a bunch of phonies who wanted to 'see(as all humans I have come across) what was happening'. Too much concern for what is happening, doesn't bring back the dead,and I am tired of thinking about it.
You must be cold at heart if you can see a father cry. I knew long before the father came,that I won't be able to stand by him,for I saw my father looking at my corpse,breaking down.As if I was the one who died,and my soul was looking upon the events,post the time it realized that I was mortal.The soul would have cried...........as I did.
I left the place as soon as my feet could take me out of that place. You could call me weak at heart,a sissy and what not.
I haven't hugged my father for the time I remember(don't count the infant times okay?? I can't remember most of it,as if you can!!).It's not like what it is with mothers,they yield. Every time I think that I haven't hugged my father,two streams start flowing.
Someone please make this relationship more tangible!!
I want to give my father a fully restored Premier Padmini(a.k.a Fiat 1100),his first car.
If possible,I want him to read this,and realize how much I miss him....And no,I am not going to 'SHARE' this with him online. Hopefully somehow it shall reach him....
And that day,he shall not call me.... 

We lost one

I am a staunch believer in the theory of parallel universes. It takes into account every possible outcome that can branch from any given event.So if you optimistic enough,and you run into a debacle,you can seek solace in the fact that in some other parallel world,you are not in the state of misery that you are in now.
It all started as a perfect day,beginning with 40 pull-ups, no breakfast, an incomplete newspaper and all intentions to sit the fuck down and study till your arse gave out....orrrrr maybe at least till lunch. But the day had other ways to pan itself out. I get out of my room in half a mood to go for celebrating my seniors' placement,and the other half to go,have my lunch,come back to my 'rear torture'.I kind of did both.I was starving,so I had lunch,then I also (unfortunately) ran into my seniors.............and all the remaining i have to type is boring rant of very low grade which shall make you sleep if you just had an expresso,even more so if you had a redbull.
As 'mystical and 'Kung-fu'ish' the next part sounds,I felt an inner calling forcing me to write/type the stuff i have in mind. When we left for the celebrations,we were 21 in number. We returned 20. A high tide and a fraction of time snatched away one of us. The sea took him in. The one who I talk about shall remain un-named,for the sole reason that that person could have been any of the 21 of us who left the gates of my college.
All in high spirits,jokes galore...we,with every passing moment,moved closer to the last day for one among us. Maybe I haven't seen death so close,maybe I am over-reacting along with a lot of other maybes' but it is slightly hard to digest how you were talking with a person five minutes ago,and the next thing to hit you is the fact that the same person in no more. I ain't like he and I were inseparable ,nor did we share a bond to boast about.
I have never known myself to manifest my feelings on the outside the way it feels inside.I don't know how one normally reacts to death. As widely documented the reaction has been, I never felt anything. I mean quite literally,after receiving the news,I actually felt nothing,absolutely blank..I might as well go to the extent of saying ...dumbstruck. And this may sound blunt,wrong and everything else,but I was purely thankful that I had been spared. I mean for all things I know,In some (yes,this may officially sound preposterous) other world/parallel universe,I was the one who drowned. So in effect,a part of each of us has died on the day I write this,in some unknown part of another universe,at least in theory.

The next thing that bothers me beyond measure is that, the parents of the boy are yet ,either in denial/have been mostly in the dark/are extremely adept to take on adversity. When the whole thing happened,I feel like crying as I imagine about the situation at the guy's home.For one thing,your parents never stop thinking about you after you set foot out of the house. Usually,unless explicitly informed,they live under the impression that you are doing safe and sound. The scene goes like this....
The mother is at home,thinking her kid's all jolly,enjoying himself,studying,well on his road to success,where as in reality, the bloke's no more for the last one hour. Sadly,she's not going to know about it for the next couple of hours until the friends,college authorities and all the blah.. blahh ...blahhhhs are compelled to spill the news due to inescapable reasons.
For a second,you genuinely feel responsible for leaving a mother's universe shattered. But when you come to look at it from a logical/selfish point of view,one mother's shattered world is kind of better than the shattered world of four. It sounds like the words of the devil,but it is true.
One thing that is absolutely inescapable is that,whether or not four people jump in to your rescue, you and you alone are purely responsible for your own safety.And if you cannot take that responsibility,you might as well lose that fucking thing of yours called life.

The last and the final element of human nature called STANDING AND WATCHING!!! This isn't my first tryst with this habit of a crowd. Anything happens,a guy is being beaten up,some random quarrel,and now,a guy is drowning....and all people are doing is..........yeah!!! WATCHING!!! I got three words to tell you. FUCK YOU ALL!!! and three more words...GET A LIFE!!! Point is,what ever is happening is NOT,you read that right, NOT for your entertainment! You either do two of the things
1-Put your life at risk,save the concerned party's life/prevent the impending catastrophe orr.....
2-You just walk away as the issue is not supposed to trouble you even otherwise.
I know this stuff will reach 30-40 people(now I am being optimistic here!) but please do not bother showing your fake concern by standing there and WATCHING! You might as well go home,masturbate your heart out and feel good/pathetic(for those having Post Masturbation Guilt Syndrome) about yourself.That way you do the suffering person a favor by clearing way for him when REAL help turns up!! Seriously,it's like a bit of knowledge about the person in trouble won't help you win 'Who wants to be a millionaire'/'Kaun banega karorpati'/'Ningalkum aavam kodeeshwaran' or any random third world version of the first mentioned show. It is another thing if you want to be a star of the show called 'I Am an Arsehole'. Now the real trouble here is that even that will be difficult for you as even here,too much competition man!!/woman!!(I don't have gender bias). So please,next time around,make way!!

I had all intentions to go overboard today.Situation called for it I guess. For those who had the misfortune of sharing the experience with me,I can only hope that they see this somehow and accept my apology for the fact that I could not contribute to an individual/collective effort to save a life. To those who went out of their way in an attempt to do so, I bow to your selflessness. And to those who stood there and watched,I raise my finger to you and imagine you drowning in your own shame.

And as for my fan following of the Parallel Universe theory,I hope in not one but many of the verses(technically can't use universe here),we still returned 21......