#morning #thoughts

If there is indeed life after death, we are trapped indefinitely, if not eternally

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#night, not #dark, #thoughts

Nothing can kill you before your time
Nothing can keep you beyond your time

#fear is a #perception
#intothewild

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A character's arm grab!

A character just struck me hard (from my own writings) all of a sudden. Yes, because of the fact that I have this exam tomorrow. But still, the way everything works during such academic schedules of life- it's beautiful. I may lose interest in it entirely tomorrow when I get back from Rohini. It's like a long lost page all cleaned and freshened up magically and at the top of your desk- the only thing visible right now! You have lost your interest in it from a long time and in anything and everything that's related. But this time, it's yours. Your mind is willing to work on it, your heart's pumping all the life it can spare toward it. Sometimes the most common days are the most complex, I guess.
(Part 3)

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Nothing But Togetherness

Nothing but togetherness
Sucks them last breaths
Takes control of now and then
Signifies the falls
Makes you feel blessed

Shape of life is strange
Ever-changing sturdiness
Delicate but merciless
Patting one and all
Keeping bodies possessed

That bitter water, sweet lime juice
Dry not, wait! Moment's slipping
Hearts are always sipping
Nothing but togetherness

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Social stuff: Part 1

Socially, problem with marks of people’s achievements is that you can’t talk back to an artist through the product of his art work. Even though initially the whole idea of creating art is to communicate. You can’t pause your video player at your favourite shot, to take some time out to call the production team involved in the project to say, “Damm! You guys just made me cry (for real)”. Socially, you’re just a fan. Mentally you might be a little more or less but the whole point is- society is about delivering- what you don’t deliver, doesn’t even exist.

Significance is a big deal. You did some good while hiding- brings joy to yourself. But ‘social joy’ is a different thing. Sometimes we own nothing joyful or praiseworthy (on a very individual level) still some people get to serve the food better than they can cook. Another chef cries at home thinking why he didn’t take that “extra social” shot to not only get some money, but a whole big lot of credits in the areas of joy (personal and social!), happiness and the areas of general (pointless but great!) celebrations of life.

Stiffness to do right all life long and grow white hair for a cause is one thing. Courage to do small wrongs knowingly to bring yourself That Extra Piece of Joy is another. Life is a cycle, no doubts. I say it’s a ****in Not So Steady Sine Wave!

Emptiness is caused by lack of or excess of deliverance. “OMG I am not known.” “OMG I can’t get lost.” “OMG am I changing with or without someone.” “OMG am I too off the line or too straight on the line?” Confusion barely needs an excuse. “OMG am I saying OMG?” Depression is seeded in us excessively. To sterilize a certain thoughts or parts of mind is an art. Art is to communicate. Artwork that makes one known with a blast makes regular great people harder to communicate back. Life is a cycle. A loop of small uncertain things occurring in different colours and shapes.

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Finding originality

Sometimes it's hard to say what part of our thought process comes from really within ourselves, and not influenced by anybody else around. In fact, I wouldn't wonder much if I have to stick with the fact that everything that we like, dislike or crave for, comes from other people. A friend of you talks about his liking of rock music and you end up opening your rock chambers in a split second. The art of denying and the technique of cutting off the constantly coming ideas from others is also, on the other hand, part of a blocked mind. Where do ideas about liking, disliking, excitement, attraction or acceptance come from?! If you wake up one morning and before seeing anybody else if a great great idea dealing with how to go abouts of the day pops up in head- wouldn't that be original?! And when that happens, where would that come from?! Dreams?! Or just fresh morning thinking?! Do dreams not come from others' part in your own life?!

Life in itself is not at all the individuality of all the living beings but in all the ways- everybody keeping everybody else alive. Peace, too, is everywhere. Isolation doesn't work even with the gods of earth. Ideas- one can say- come from everywhere and each one of us is lucky only to be the ultimate commander of oneself. But everything in one's life coming from inside- NEVER POSSIBLE!

Some people are more buttery with getting influenced from others or others' deeds. Some are more defensive. Some are way more protective than others when it comes to refining all the ideas fired up to us from all the directions, to guide oneself to the constant alertness that it takes to achieve something on a very individual level. Some of us never even wonder that their actions had always been only with others' influences and so their life is a container- letting others around to live in it.

Original is nothing. Nothing comes from outer space to just one's mind or goes back to a big bright light. We are the life. I give you life by giving you hope. You keep me alive, in return.

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Life

..

take my life and throw it away..
throw a party for all your friends..
if you can spend it somewhere..

take my heart and go away..
somewhere for yourself again..
if you still think its unfair..

that we never had a testing time..
when you were testing my..
everything I found blinding..

life! give me a December..
'cuz my November was spent..
looking for reasons..

life! give me a June again..
'cuz when we're through again..
we 'll need warm seasons..

..

fake my life seems and..
I'll be divided..
if I repair it my way..

make my day and fly away..
somewhere for us someday..
if you think it will work that way..

I know we never had rest in life..
when you were testing my..
everything that I had..
speeding against you and me..

life! give me a December..
'cuz my November was spent..
looking for reasons..

life! give me a June again..
'cuz when we're through again..
we 'll need warm seasons..

...

Dec, '08

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'Garma garmee ki chhuttiyan'

There’s no doubt that August has started and not only it has started, it’s the 3rd day already (by the time I am actually posting it, its 4th actually). I am still in July. After my semester 4 exams till the last week of May, I have been on vacations. But these vacations were more or less not vacations. Here is a list of what all I had to do in these holidays of about a week more than two months: -


1. Spending some real early holidays in hope to get ideas to spend the rest of them and enjoying the beginning of the vacation with no tensions about the so called “summer project” or whatsoever of my so called college.

2. Not going out of station or anywhere except going to watch a couple of movies and trying to help out my sister with her new (right now critical) modular kitchen business by being an extra man.

3. Hoping to learn the business but coming back again and again to being an extra man.

4. Realizing that it actually is the best I can actually do in an alien field. I have spent my working years in and around media so I simply don’t follow handling middle aged ladies, demonstrating our termite proof, water proof and this is where my instant creativity delivers well, “fire proof” solid wood shutters and rustproof hinges and representing a product I am not much aware and sure of or even passionate about.

5. Spending most of the month driving here and there, picking and dropping hardware, tools, shutters, baskets, glasses, wrongly cut glasses, corrected glasses, water bottles, my sister’s partner because he cant drive, my sister because she shouldn’t drive because of her back pain, plywood, metal sheets, plywood covered with metal sheets, fittings, fitters etc. When it comes to choosing the basic work in a family celebration or something, driving is the best I can do. I, more or less, just celebrated working at my sister’s place.

6. Thinking about the rest half of July and trying to think of some final executable chill out plans. Still going to movies, still driving, still feeling weird about joining back college in August.

7. Senselessly fighting and arguing with friends out of my frustration and the mismatch by being rude when they’re actually feeling bad about something already. Basically wasting most of the first half of July in doing the most worthless things if we talk about friends and possibilities of setting up good times and feeling further hopeless by being even more angry on self for rapidly executing the friend pushing process.

8. Chatting online with a friend and making us both feel miserable on the mid day of 16th July. Feeling angry about her ignoring my then ongoing bad feeling about random stuff and feeling angrier on self again for making things that way myself and complaining about everybody who doesn’t listen when I am the one who doesn’t speak. Creating confusions. Understanding the actual stuff. Being pissed off totally and seeking time till night.

9. Finishing my dinner on the 16th night, hearing the popping sound followed by screams, feet rushing outside and voices of our tenants yelling for a fire brigade, climbing upstairs with instantly helping servants from around, yelling to stop them from rushing back outside on hearing rapid bottle breaking and thinking that somebody’s stuck inside, passing them buckets on the top of the front wall and having a bucket full of water poured liberally as it just slipped and got wrongly aimed at me instead of the fire upstairs, going out in the street and meeting two hundred faces in a single second, showing way to the very first policemen on a bike, ringing door bells of neighbours to get their cars moved for the big fire vehicles on their way, rapidly questioning people watching from balconies about unknown cars, coming back in front of the house, seeing big flames coming out of the burnt windows, realizing the whole thing being a big deal, going back in to check on Brownie (our dog) locked in one of the inner rooms of the house, finding it quite uncomfortable to walk around in the house with absolutely no light and water in the main passage, taking Brownie to the rear veranda and convincing him by pushing to stay there, being able to push open only 6 inches of corridor because of the fat water pipe all over the stairs, climbing up from the other way with a malfunctioning emergency light in a hand and rapidly slapping it with the other, standing breathless in the smoke, sitting with fire fighters, knowing that the head fireman turned off the dinner warming stove in a burning kitchen with a gas cylinder right in the middle with no mask or helmet on, crouch walking all over the ashes, glass and broken things, further cooling of the living room by splashing water on the remains of the living room with a mug, losing the mug in the second round and doing the same with just the bucket, sweating and suffocating at the same time, going downstairs again to get the birds out, going outside again to further meet people, listening to neighbours and their quick situational solutions to things and being partially convinced, seeing everything, meeting everyone, explaining things, hearing reasons…

10. Climbing upstairs the next morning, seeing things, in fact, the unrecognizable things in the living room, calculating the damage, looking at things like looking into a fresh newsreel, hearing the strange sounds of footsteps all over the house upstairs, further calculating the damage, trying to find the blades of the ceiling fans and finding them nowhere, analyzing the remaining 3 inches of the living room door made of soft coal still standing in closed position, finding only springs of the sofa set, checking out the strangeness of a burnt floor, analyzing the bent grills of the front windows and the iron rods of the ceiling and walls well naked at places, further calculating the damage, checking out other rooms, finding all the initially pure white ceilings deep black, walking around, celebrating in silence, touching the walls and finding them still hot…

11. Seeing firemen and police a few times with my brother in law. Hearing stuff. Feeling tactful in a pathetic way.

12. Listening to suggestions from everywhere who visited the house after that. The process still continues. You tell them again and again what happened. You tell them about your family’s fear of having the tenants to flee without paying for the damage. Thinking about the worst cases. All kinds of dramatic solutions run through your mind when you sit down at night, still sensing the unavoidable smell of a burnt house, like writing a journal about the whole thing and waiting till someone makes a movie out of it as the trend is kind of popular these days and then finally hoping to sell a few copies of your wrecked work and ultimately getting some money to fight the case if it turns into one because anyways cases don’t pack up in just a couple of years here.This is our sweet city! (I love Delhi for this in fact!)

13. Being sick in the last week of vacations and considerably losing some serious weight. Recovering one day and again having a dramatic day with the tenants, loading of a truck with their stuff, senseless arguments, police, neighbours, talks, discussions, further arguments and so called (pat of) settlement the police tries to console you with.

14. Meeting friends and trying to have the best time by the tail of these two months or so.

15. Making a water park outing plan in the last day of the vacation and going somewhere else instead.

16. Wishing friends on the Friendship Day. Doing nothing.


Besides that it isn’t that I didn’t do much for fun in this time (though I just had a lot of it, especially as compared to the time I could actually put into fun; Had some of the best time of Summer '09 officially). I watched a couple of movies. Driving around with friends at 2am on the night when the first metro accident happened at the LSR college site. I still haven’t seen Harry Potter which I wanted to accompany a friend to.


Feels quite strange when I think what did I do in these two months or if we just vaguely talk about any lapse of time in my life so far. Nothing. There are still a lot of times in my bucket which I don’t have photographs of but yes, they are all good times. Strangely, even if you don’t talk about the right man’s curriculum vitae or anything that official or academic, still there are a lot of things that a living person just randomly gets gifted with. Drama would always be there. Sometimes less or sometimes too much. Sometimes you’re thrilled, sometimes scared or sometimes you are just simply entertained.


Today was the first day at college. First day of my fifth semester. I didn’t go. I am just assimilating my vacation activities for now and will go tomorrow if my will builds up well!

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Urge to let go

Honestly, I am fed up of going to college. I am more than cracked by the idea of having education to build a career, a life and a future. I am torn by thinking about the former two things when I think of what I really do and who I really meet or who I learn from or who I sit collinear with. I don't hate my college. But I just hate the fact that I can't get myself safely out of somewhere I can't stand at all.

It's been two years and in August I 'll be in third year. Positive thinking is a good thing but people say, by their experience which comes from what they have learnt for themselves and what they have been through, that Bachelor of Computer Applications is 'one of the most difficult courses that most people commonly pass in four years'. One extra year. Let's be straight and honest, think real and forget about miracles or magic, I am no exception- in my life so far I know the best about how average I have been. Two years still left.

We avoid talking about things till the last seconds. By 'we', I mean people of my category- the last minute ones. But let's consider the facts now 'cause I am really tired of virtually getting rid of things. I am tired of escaping too at the same time. And the misery is, I am still ready to launch myself away in a second at any moment. It's like I am already sitting on a rocket with the final switch connected to my sub conscious.

Chris sings, "Running in circles, chasing our tales, coming back as we are". I think that's what's happening to me. I know well things should be taken care of. But that only applies till a limit. I am spoiled to get back into seats with classmates. Work spoiled me. Just a little money spoiled me. The more I get deeper into things, the more it gets harder to breathe. And this is not exaggerating. Only my personal God knows how I hold on to something that pushes me away like repelling gravity.

I hope to gain control again. But my God again knows how much I feel like escaping from, not knowing where to though. This is a depression. A craft, flying to an alternate world- not really mine- which I am expected not to eject from. I hope to pass this time like passing a year underwater. I don't want to break this time lapse into pieces of rapid stress.

I know what people ask, "Why now? Why not before?". Sometimes you do get deeper into finding a way to ultimately realize that you must try from somewhere else. If you do turn out to be headstrong through the same puddle, even then it changes your colour in some way or the other. I am changed. And I will be changed. No matter how hard I think of being someone good, by the middle of the day, I end up being only good willed- nothing more.

What is this career thing people sing about anyway? Life is organic to start with. One day we'll be pulp or smoke or just cold skin, till then I guess you just need to follow your will more than following a CV.

People say, "let go of things" and they are perfectly right. Just speak out what you feel, just go ahead and publish your inside to others. But I am trapped. If I really free myself and let go, one of the first things will be relieving myself out of places I feel smothered in. No more answering. No more talks of my career. All I want is a talk of my life and to me, life and career are two separate things. People often live thinking both are parts of the same wheel, perhaps they are right for themselves and maybe it works for them. But people are people. People live in planning, people live in love they fail to understand later, people go door to door with briefcases in hands and in clothes they don't understand, people terrify other people, people find God in things, people rescue others. More or less- I am not people.

I am selfishly my father's son- a simple person with simple wishes inside.

I feel misplaced over and over again. Like I am from somewhere else- not of somewhere either inferior or superior- that is not really the case. It's simply like again and again, second after second I get deeper into The Subconscious Rocket Theory. And 'I realize now, outsider or insider, it doesn't really matter'. 'All that matters is knowing what you really want, AND GOING AFTER IT'.

And don't worry people this isn't a suicide letter or an escapist's will. But a bomb is a bomb right, you just never know! ;)

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Something raging

This is it. Right now. Something I feel once a while, sometimes it lasts for seconds and sometimes for weeks and months. This anger. Reason? Simple? One? Many? Someone? Everyone? I don't know. It's like a cycle. Blood pressure pumping anger or anger fueling blood pressure- both are simply high. And this isn't one of those feelings that I do know and do understand, when everything just feels as worthless as usual and strangely without a reason at all. This is something else. More or less? Good or bad? Controlled or leaking? I don't know. It's like a drink, acting somehow even when you're awake and well trying to feed the senses. Something that just simply kills all the wishes to share or speak out. Or if I do speak out, turns me off for discussing it. In a moment, everything feels just so delicate. Doors, walls, distemper chipping off in one of those sign giving corners, CDs, hinges, floor, plastic, metal, food, people, gadgets, screens, packing, fitting, bolts, plugs, vases, pipes, wires, buttons, current, perfumes, handles, surfaces, contacts, brochures, business cards, adhesives, polythene bags, tube lights, ICs, internet- everything I see or hear or smell or feel or touch or mere think about- intentionally or accidentally.

This is what it is. One of the moods. One of the seasons. One of the moments. One of the hours. Anytime. Evergreen. Never ending. Life consuming. Destructive. Self destructive. Critical. Unmanageable yet bearable. Observable yet immeasurable. Suppressible but not erasable.
--
I don't want comments on this one but if you want to say anything at all about anything, email me, or just say here- I READ IT. :) :( :-\

Cheers! [I did one of the least things about recording it]
Thanks!

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Days that should never end

A speedy round trip to Manesar [[Haryana]] to pick up some stuff from a factory (how entertaining);
One eying at beautiful heavy rain of the evening through changing lines of a screen door and getting immediately back to sleep;
Waking up in the evening to realize its a Tuesday and on The Tuesday me and my two friends (Parmeet Singh Ghai & Moirangthem Ranjan Singh; since the names aren't at all friendly let's keep it Pammi & Ranjan!) were supposed to go to Salvation;
Driving to PVR Saket with Ranjan's "Why so serious" head outside the window and my wish to get rid of him; (Gandhiji said thinking bad about someone is as bad as doing bad, so I didn't say a thing..!)
Going to Salvation;
Driving back home shirtless (but Pammi wouldn't take his shirt off, maybe because of his ultra hairy shirtless profile (how do I know that?!!???!) or maybe because of Ranjan sitting right behind him in the back seat and his never dwindling Guys Gone Wild nature!;

[Yes! I admit that I dont have "regular" friends and this is as good as it gets]

Getting beered..
Trying to get us all killed in a three sum on Pammi's Pulsar;
Running our rest of the way to In n Out after leaving the bike at a roadblock to find chewable things;
Walking and riding back home and trying the killing action one more time;
Cooking Top Ramen;
Finishing our beer bottles and feeding Brownie (A dog that sleeps forever but always wakes up for a party!) with ketchuped potato chips;
Seeing Pammi off at 0545 hours;
Saying "over and out" to myself;
Trying to sleep;
Thinking;
Sleeping.

--
That was PM of 31st June and AM of 1st July. Ranjan and I, once again, "slept together"! Pammi evaded his way out, suffering from Fight or Flight condition and rapidly acting on his adrenaline. Ranjan was asleep anyway, not "wild willed" anymore but who knew if Pammi slept and Ranjan woke up?!?! After all, the whole evening Pammi got Ranjan to pay on whatever he demanded.

Once in a while, I dont mind a strawberry-banana-chocolate-mango shake.
Its like a friendly bonus! Hey, but is this getting controversial?! I was only talking about a day with everything: - ear fitt-fatting 'cuz of speed, rainfall, near death experiences, naked (partially) windy drive, salvation, American Style Lays (cuz I won when Pammi fought for Tomato Lays), Berry Jelly ice cream instead of Cream Bell Triples that makes me think about girls and relationships, realization of Berry Jelly ice cream too being as miserable as Triples, waiting outside Audi 4 as Salvation started about 50 minutes late, avoiding Pammi's ex-Dell-friend and party.......................

My friends are retards and so am I.
But in Kurt Cobain's words, "that's okay my will is good.."

;)

--
PS: Btw this is what Brownie's up to right now:

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Ever changing life..

Everyone is wandering around. In hope for something good, in hope for something better, in hope to fix something, or in the deepest of urges to get things simpler. Everyone is fine. Everyone is sick. Life's a cycle, a drama full of characters. Homes are the best. Schools are even better. Homes are asylums. Schools are jails.

Life is a cycle. One moment something is damm right and everything's gone the next moment. Again and again you find a bit of your heart's wishes, and again every now and then you lose your happiness in a way or the other. Everyone's perfect. Everyone's damaged.

Life is a treat. Life is a threat. Its like a heart pulse. One beat is this.. Other is totally that.

But that's the thing! This fricken painting is made up of all colour combinations- this, that, sweet, sour, pretty, ugly, pretty ugly..............

You can't say just once, permanent enough, that you _ _ _ _ life because it just changes all the time with speed of light. Maybe that's the speed of life. Or maybe even faster!!

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2006 recognises still

Saurabh Arya- That's the person I met when I was in Aravis (A Haryana based NGO). I was the one and only sound recordist/sound editor of the NGO. I and my anchor friend Saurabh were under Prof. TK Thomas' vision to make Chetna. Seems a bit serious this way when you say that we "produced" a "program" that was "broadcast" on "AIR" Rohtak. We had a fifteen minute slot, so each program was about 14:30 minute long.

But was it so serious of a deal really?! We laughed. We wrote. Our voices echoed more of jokes than reverb free recordings. We wrote some more. We tore off A4 sheets. We improvised each others' Hindi. Especially Thomas Sir's quick recipes of Ka Ke Ki mixup!

We worked. We celebrated small things of our Chetna scenario with Samosa parties. Thomas Sir trained many batches of the marginalized children to speak on the radio; for the radio. We assisted him. We spoke to the "kids". The kids of our age. We connected with them each time Thomas Sir ignited the "radio connection".

We talked sound. We wrote sound. We saw sound. More than just I, as a recordist, recorded them, we all recorded ourselves! We all were audience of our own voices. We improvised. We became better.

Saurabh met me first in such a group of radio students only. At first, I didn't know he had already done a couple of programs before. He had done Gandhiji Ki Laathi in which he voice played The Laathi. Gandhiji Ki Laathi was one of the hottest phrases that we used everyday in our Chetna age.

Chetna hadnt started then. Thomas Sir and I patiently and sometimes impatiently waited for about a year for Chetna to start finally. After a few weeks of having a female voice to anchor the program, Thomas Sir got Saurabh to do the job. That was when Saurabh Arya became the official Saurabh Arya!

I, in my two years at Aravis, painted a lot of tunes, a whole bunch of loops electronically. Chetna's signature tune was initially one of my ultra personal (but still sharable with Prof. Thomas) electronic instrumentals. In no time, we made a signature tune out of it when Vinay Koshy (Prof. TK Thomas' son) sang a couple of instant variations of Chetna vocals over a compact evening!

We built Chetna. Thomas Sir helped us in the beginning to get our grips on something we had never had our ears upon ever before. But then, when we got the flow in us, we became addicted to the process.

Each episode was a topic, a quick discussion (over no-particular-reason tea cups!), a write up, finalising of a script full of criss cross patterns all over, a smooth recording session, a quick but clean editing session, recording of the master CD, printing and cutting of labels, packing of the CD in a bubble pack, pasting of labels, mailing the CD, pinning the courier slip in a file!

Chetna became a routine. Honestly, I never heard Chetna in Haryana, on a real rural radio and in a real broadcast. I could never manage that even though I wanted to.

This process I am talking about, wasn't messy at all. But still we enjoyed to act like we were messed up. For our teacher, Thomas Sir, it wasn't a big deal ever, as he was too experienced always to get messed. It was only us, not messed up ever, just playing like kids in a bath tub!

Chetna was our that life!

--
Sometimes I think I have cut out a time. In fact, most of the times I think that, if I think about time at all.. But I met my friend again on 7th June, 09- a Sunday! A Sunday, maybe to connect weeks and months and years.

We talked nonsense again, like we used to do. We talked about Oda and Rossi, the bikers we always bullied in MotoGP 3: Ultimate Racing Technology. We finished our scripts wisely and got on playing videogames. I always took the first turn! :)

In fact, Saurabh always gave me the first turn. Maybe because he was, after all, Gandhiji's Laathi! ;)

We haven't changed. Not at least in the ways we're still filled with the potential to kill time. Not at all about how we think about Chetna, if we think of it, when we think of it. But I know I have changed. I know how I have changed, in my heart.

And its not a bad news in any way as I am still spotted by my people from a couple of years back! ;)

It was a life, a moment, a season, a kind of dream that you always remember. Even though we joked about it all, we were into it! [Yeah! That deeper kind of shittiness]. We marked something way bigger than lines and dates in our CVs.

It was a life. A complete packet. A packet to remember life long!

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The Next Level

So far so awesomely good. But what next?! Question isn't whether the forthcoming time or step is right or wrong or at the extreme ends of security, but maybe something more faint and vague against the peacefulness of the current level. Right now. How the relations develop. How we go deeper and deeper not into something more expressed and encircled but something simple, nice and awesome.

Right now is the best time. Right now is the best life one can live. Nothing ahead, or at least no thoughts of the next step, and definitely a lot behind. We don't even sacrifice our future in return of what we have had. We aren't at a risk. And we are absolutely not fear filled about how tangled we can get our relationships into but just madly wishful to keep things as simple as right now. And the glow of that simplicity is all that matters probably.

The next level may offer complex things. Its like modifying a ride to its best for the current level. But sacking it to get to the next level and build a new ride- is not something you would want to do if you can keep only one ride at a time. Sometimes the car you build is too awesome to switch with any other one. Riding it for hours, killing time, hurting your back, gently killing eyes too, is what you might wish much more than the newness of the next round, the next world, the next territory, the next event name.

Of course, a boosted muscle car can be much more raw and rough than an exotic one. But more than the magic of the engines or the drugged looseness of the steering wheels, who needs the speed? Its your call if you prefer a toy speed feel or taste of a raw metal giant, truly fast and deeply furious. Speed is so eye cracking, but till its under control. So true, it depends entirely on who you are and what kind of relationship you have built so far with your car, because its up to you and your ride. Its totally a game of what kind of boy you you are. "One of those boys who prefer cars to women" or "one of those boys who appreciate a fine body, regardless of the make"?! (Fast and Furious 4)

If a car is a relationship, then maybe riding a raging beauty is much more than a new shiny ride! The car speeding you right now, is your "ten second car" then, its up to you if you get out of it to spray paint your name on it, or you drag it to its shake to drag your heart!

And live with the price of RPM vs. BPM! ;)

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Telepathy troubleshooting

Is something wrong?
No, nothing's wrong.. Why?!
Just felt so..
Nah.. Wrong telepathy..
Okay.. Happens..
I smell Crax.. But I don't see Crax anywhere..
Ow.. Go get some then, and for me too..

Life's all about speaking out. But sometimes, even though you know that you don't speak out almost half the things, many times a day to start with, when you don't keep anything unspoken, others tend to guess it. Its like, okay I do that- fine, but I didn't do it this time.. And when you're doubted about it, you feel like explaining all the times when you did that and that right then when you didn't.

Okay! Now don't look at me like that.. There's nothing wrong.. If there was something wrong, I would have told you..
[Another stare]
I mean I would have told you if there was something really wrong.. Godd! When, only sometimes I do that and dont tell, its not that something's wrong or something.. Can we please get rid of that stare?!
[Stare continues..]

There's nothing you can do about it. All you can do is go out and get Crax, and raise it up in the air and send telepathic signals to your signal catching friend.

To be continued..

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Life- Too abstract to measure..

Who is it living at the very core? The moody one. A figure who others use to observe and analyze who we are from. These figures we make ourselves a part of. Each day, each second is a drama. What is that abstract feeling, out of which all the feelings are inherited and polished into specific and rigid definitions? Do we feel those simple feelings purely at all? Isn't the taste of something the best conclusion our mind can reach by the efforts of senses.. ? Aren't we extending that basic figure into our own versions?

What if the mirror isn't right? What if we go blind to those figures? Being just fine physically. Would we see totally different then? Maybe a different kind of image, painted by colours we don't know yet. How will you look right now if you were made of feelings than a face made of skin? Will I ever be able to guess your look if you just teleport yourself out of physics? Would I still see you? Or would you see yourself in the mirror then? Would you believe it then? Or, would you still not let anyone see the inner image, if you dont have the basic lines anymore?

I am a figure. A setup of colours. A glow within borders. A thought floating like a halo, just hidden behind illusions of mass and gravity. Can you see me, how I am changing shape and colour right now? Can we still talk? Do we have to talk? I am not my face, or my name, or religion, or my skin- I am a fume flying back and forth and so are you.
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Why so serious?

Just shut up with your that look Joker..
I am tryin' to have a moment here..

Woo.. A moment? Stop with that philosophical bullshit!
Hey.. Wanna know how I got these scars?

No!! But your scars are just outside!!
Who gives a shit about your face anyways..

I do.. I use white boot polish for fairness each day..

Yeah right! You know.. I am scared..

Hoooo.. So.. Finally! Batman's scared..!

No, its not that you fool.. Listen..
Everybody knows me by my image..
What if I dont have a suit anymore..

The Batman will go naked!!

..No one's gonna recognize me anywhere..
I 'll be out of comics, cartoon shows..
My hollywood career too would be ruined to ashes.. !

Whoa.. Never thought that way..
But guess what- a new Batman is just born..
A saint Batman!

AAAArrrrggghhhh!!!

Hehehehehkhhh!! Now wanna know how I got these scars?!

Whatever!! #$@^#!!

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Life is just too short to live with that good man certainty.. Yes, settling into a pillar to hold responsibilities is a good thing. But getting lost in physics forever is a wastage of that abstractness. What if for a second- life is seen outside of living at a place, studying in a college or working somewhere? A fine balance between dreams and reality is, of course, something to be understood. Life is too short for living outside the line as well.. But how would you paint yourself right now if we can't go by the mirror or any kind of replication? Which colour are you made of right now? What's your shape? And gesture? Can you see yourself? Would you still let others see you?

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That silly moment!

Sometimes all the care and consciousness of keeping on to do things right just slips away for a split second. You’re a harsh but completely-in-senses driver, fine, but don’t you have that one little moment sometime or the other, when everything just slides into a pool of careless fun or ignorant misery? When for a while you get out of the line, even though the next second you realize without telling anyone riding with you- Okay! Shit! Why did I just do that..?!

Is it too hard to be 100% right? Is it not in our genes far and beyond?! You cook just too good! Everybody knows that you just manage to survive in a kitchen but whatever you do is tasty, still, one moment of expecting things to go way more effortless than your skills afford- and you end up with a seekh kebab crispy fried outside but still cold inside.

Yes! I am talking about that moment! That very moment when everything that you have learned to make right or to come out clean from abuses you in an instance. If one could program some basic things, which wouldn’t be entertaining ever to try out any other way, and become safe or basically happy?! Is safety too much to struggle for? Who wants to try being unsafe, on a road particularly, just for the sake of trying something new?

Urge to go longer, faster or smoother is nice but it cant cover up an urge to be ignorant- even for a split second. A badly cooked kebab can be disposed and there you go; you got rid of it!

What if, instead of being able to deliver a screaming expression, “Shit! That $#@%!! WAS INCHES!!”, you turn into a kebab yourself!!?

Some things in life deserve full attention and absolutely no messing up. All one can do is try and take that moment out, completely. That moment should never be occurring ever again! And each time when you’re able to minus such silly moments one by one, you get more time for other things- you live more! ;)

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What is this all?!

"You know.. Its always good to express what's in your head.."
"Yeah?! Yeah maybe.. But who's paying for all the uncertainty..?"
"Uncertainty's there always.. It 'll be there.. Maybe one can just hang with the good part.." "Maybe!"
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It is, no doubt, good to live out by your heart, to make mistakes, to give yourself a fair chance to understand things by going through them than to try and to always try to be the safest person who avoids the least of curvy paths from the straight path that offers everything right and everything just the way it should be. Are we okay with making mistakes or we're just scared?! Scared??!! Of what? Am I scared? And if I can't seem to answer that then what would be my answer to my own head if I ask myself- am I scared of nothing?! That is so not true!

I am scared! I am shit scared!
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I am just old academically. But not so old in reality. In college, I am just 3 years "more experienced" than other students if and only if we talk about the "free life after school". Where was I? What was I doing? I hardly find someone interested in hearing that any more than I am interested in telling. Who am I? A ghost who's trying everything out, and has no problems with the precious time people like to spend only in something academic or monetary enough. And this IS the uncertainty I have with me. Because of what I don't feel free just to everything.

And who am I confusing anyways?! What if a fricken crush sticks to you while you are in the middle of all this?! You are doomed! I.. am doomed!

Who's life isn't a mess? Who is never in trouble? Who is completely happy anyways?!
And even if all were "completely happy" someday or the other, wouldn't we wish to die the same day??? On the happiest day of our lives?!

Where does all this lead?! Why are we always "runnin' in circles" and "chasing our tales"?! What would the good man do through all this? All this?? All this- a logically still fine but weirdly developing career and education.. Aren't we mere JARHEADs going through a war, hoping to return home one day but without a single shot fired?! I am a jarhead.. just in India, just pretending to fight my own imaginary war.. !

Answers will always be less than questions, that is the only reason answers are respected more! Because we dont usually have them!

To be continued..
[meanwhile, see Why or how are we here? Or anywhere? by mranjansingh]

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