Tuesday, June 3, 2014


In the mundane routines of daily life.

In the cobweb of everlasting formalities.

In the aftermath of a decision gone wrong.

In the spiral of limited knowledge about ourselves.

In all the lost opportunities that once weren't lost.

In the middle of an arena to search your real talent within.

In prioritizing and rating relationships.

In Everything and anything that saddens us.

With cliche's that you see and now know.

With generalizations existing around the world.

With thinking to finally do something but never really able to come up with THAT something.

In the roller coaster of time and time alone, we are stuck and thats all there is

Thursday, July 25, 2013


Date a man who loves Old Monk. Date a man whose loyalty lies to the elixir that patiently blended itself for 7 years. You will find him quietly sitting by the bar of the pub you ritually visit, enjoying the company of a bottle of Buddha Sadhu, untouched by the madness around.  He is the guy sitting beside you in the flight; trying his best to cover up his discomfort on the lack of Old Monk but the availability of useless Beer and Red Wine on board. Strike a conversation with him and ease his pain. Ask him about his favourite Rum and see the twinkle in his eyes. 
Date a man who loves Old Monk because he is dependable. While the women around you fuss about their men and their bad hangovers, you would be the one waking up to a man ready with a cuppa coffee for you. The Old Monk knows that a hangover shouldn’t be an effect of last night’s divine alcoholic escapade.
It is amazing to date a man who loves Old Monk. Like his favourite rum he is an experience that you would like to have every chance you get without even a hint of change made to it. He is manly and he attracts recognition and while his comrades go on advertising their worth to gain your attention, he sits back because knows that you will come to him. He is smooth in his approach and he is just like his favourite Old Monk.

It is easy to date a man who loves Old Monk. Buy him an Old Monk XXX Rum for his birthday and hear him pledge his allegiance towards you for life. Get him Old Monk Gold Reserve Rum on Valentine’s Day and watch him kneel down to propose you. 

You must date a man who loves Old Monk. He is magnetic just like his preferred rum and no matter which bloke tries to sweep you away from him; you will be stuck to him like glue. He knows you are his to keep. He is the same yet full of surprises and sex with him would be a rush you cannot have enough of. Just like his rum he doesn’t allow you to forget him for his touch lingers upon you and fades into a beautiful memory which cannot be ever erased. 
Actually marry the guy who loves Old Monk. He is a people’s guy and doesn’t choose friends after checking their pockets. He is there to console his friend from College who failed in his 5thattempt at the civil services exams and he is there even to congratulate his affluent colleague on his latest promotion. Just like his beloved rum, he is not judgemental and is a good listener. 
Grow old with a guy who loves Old Monk. He will be the same man you fell in love with and time would never change him for the worst. Being similar to his pet rum, he too would never change with time. But do not see this as a negative trait, for you know you love him just the way he is.
Date a man who loves Old Monk, because you deserve it. You deserve a man who can give you the fruitiest life imaginable. If you can only give him the monotony of Carlsberg, Red Label or a Signature, then you are better off alone. But if you want a truly memorable life with a man worthy of it all, date a man who loves Old Monk.
It’s high time you found a man who loves Old Monk and made him yours, because like they say, a man is what a man drinks. 


Monday, May 13, 2013


Life doesn't care about adjectives. At best, a handful of adjectives in some permutation manage to closely describe one narrative of life as it has already taken place. But strictly only the past. Because the present is unfathomable - we being too busy trying to live it or survive it to even try understanding it. And the future, well, the future is the tricky mistress. It tempts you to dream, to paint a picture, to sandbox and call it a variety of adjectives - how things will be. But life carelessly, nonchalantly but almost deliberately brushes them aside and paints its own version of the future. By the time you finish grappling with it and are able to begin comprehending it, comparing it to your imagination, you realise how shallow it was compared to the depth of reality. You also realize how brutal reality is, and how life couldn't care less about the adjectives it was supposed to conform to. Maybe it throws a moment or two here and there to humor you, but the palate of life's art is too complex for us to label with mere names of colours. 

Adjectives, you're more or less useless.

Friday, August 17, 2012

The Bad Guy!!

In most fairy tales, stories, novels, plays and movies the most common pattern of narration employed is the characterization of the Hero(protagonist) -Villain(antagonist) pair. We all like a Hero who saves the day, stands for all that is righteous in the world, helps those in dire need and stops the antagonist in his tracks when he/she is conniving or implementing a sinister plan usually to destroy cities, kill people or cause destruction - large scale or otherwise. In the end it is usually the hero who steals the limelight leaving the villain regretting his misdeeds or usually dead; but lets do an autopsy of the Hero - Villain complex shall we?

Villain Royalty Free Stock Vector Art Illustration

I for one have always believed that the mastery of a story teller resonates in the manner in which he/she designs the Anti Hero or the Antagonist - which you can clearly notice in most Best selling books, movies and stories. For instance the Harry Potter series which had an excellent Anti Hero character in Lord Voldemort who gave the teenage wand wielding wizard Harry Potter ample opportunities to unearth the dormant heroism lying within him is something that will be appreciated say even 50 years down the road because the tale of Harry Potter is something I believe transcends age.

Movies on the other hand are a completely different cup of tea altogether. If books focus on maximizing the grey shade element on the antagonist; movies make them look like the latest escapees from a Home for the Mentally challenged. They are often made to look like mindless buffoons who seem to have all the resources in terms of money, political clout, intellect and influence at the beginning of the movie but a hero who 9.9 times out of 10 rises from dust will relieve them of their everything in the last half an hour of the movie not to mention that he usually has his way with the daughter or sister of the villain as well - talk about adding insult to injury.

Indian movie villains across languages are my pet peeve; most of whom are portrayed to be scarily moustached fat rich business men or landlords who usually have the heroes working under them either as their right hand men or as their sons. Now it becomes the prerogative of the writers to sell you 'the villain is pure evil' line so as to lay the foundation for the biblical reminder - Good always triumphs over evil. As a thumb rule they usually end up bringing in a bimbo love interest into the mix - primarily for a multitude of  activities; the most important of which involves running around random trees in a song and whom the villain can at his own sweet convenience abduct or even kill when he deems her presence unnecessary which mind you he never does. Resulting in the hero almost always swearing vengeance at the villain in front of an idol of his favorite deity to the resounding background score of ringing temple bells due to the fiercely blowing wind on an intense thundershower night.

Not surprisingly I am a sucker for movies or stories that have a great bad guy in the mix - the likes of which include Professor James Moriarty in Sherlock Holmes, Agent Smith in The Matrix or Bob Biswas in Kahaani among many many more; simply because their character sketches were done so brilliantly and that they complemented the net plot of the story or the movie. Female villainesses are not too far behind either - they are shown to be dashingly beautiful ladies who wear designer clothes and flirt perennialy with danger and take pride in pulling one over on the protagonist.     

When I was little and boys my age dreamt of being the next Shahrukh Khan; I had it fixed in my pea sized brain that I was the next big villain waiting to burst into the scene - yes, I'm very realistic that way - I know. Come to think of it - who wouldn't want to be a bratty, snotty rich person who has servants that answer to my every beck and call, drive costly cars, dress up in a gaudy night suit with a vintage hand crafted smoking pipe in my mouth and almost always have my way with any woman I want as opposed to being a HERO who firstly has to appear for the entire 3 odd hours of the movie, get beaten black, blue and god knows what shade of green on multiple occasions, fight several hoards of men sent by the villain, be the beacon of righteousness and finally barely but only very barely mind you; end up on the winning side minus half the family who if we remember well the villain finishes off - did I hear someone say BUZZKILL?

While expecting the villain to come up trumps at the end of a story would be a practical impossibility and considering the dime a dozen dozen shoddy movies that come into our cinemas every month I realistically don't see the quality of villains on the silver screen or otherwise going up drastically but one is legally allowed to be an eternal optimist, right?

Lets raise a toast to those poor misdirected souls who believe in upsetting the balance of the apple cart and upholding something that is not exactly righteous for it is them who make Heroes out of ordinary men and women. 

Sunday, July 22, 2012


Well, I believe that in life, if there is one thing that will change with every passing minute, it is a relationship, perhaps because people in it are changing or may be it is part of the entire circle for these changes to occur. but yeah, for sure, there are these phases that every relationship will definitely go through.
every relationship, no matter how long it lasts or how close it gets starts with that first glance, sometimes a careless sweep across the room, sometimes a lingering look and in rare cases an image that remains in your head  for a long time after the actual person has gone. thats where it all starts and what follows is a beginning. thats probably the best part of a relationship where two people are just getting to know each other, warm, cordial, friendly. thats the part where, if the connection is actually there, those two people would sometimes even go out of the way to make things nice and they would like going out of the way.
what comes next is the phase when those people begin to get to know each other for real, the deeper layers to find out what lies underneath the mask. thats when they actually begin to get comfortable. and then comes a time when these people are actually comfortable with each other, thats the phase where they dont pretend to be super nice for sake of being nice, they actually like being nice. and definition of nice changes as well. of course, some galiyan may become a part of your lingo along with other insults but the bond is deeper and better than ever before.
what comes next is what i believe the real test of every relationship, its the part where two peole are so comfortable with each other that they start expecting, they expect the other person to be there, to understand. sometimes these expectations dont come true and thats when it hurts like hell. but once in a while, you meet a person who will pleasantly surprise you by meeting all these expectations and some more.
but sometimes, the problem is not not finding that person who will pass all these phases with you but passing these phases together. its about how well you can acclimate to these changes, before they get to you or what those two people have between each other.
my problem has been that i have resisted all these changes at some point or the other, i have tried to avoid them, intentionally or unintentionally. and the transition is something i always find tough to happen. i have always found myself either a phase ahead or behind of the other person, well not always but in most cases. i have lost people to these phases but i have also known people who have held my hand and walked me through it.  i have also known that what comes after these transitions is totally worth all the confusion and utter nonsensical stuff that i go through.
so cheers to all these changes, cheers to all these phases, cheers to everything that comes and goes cuz in end what matters is not where you reached but what you went through cuz life was never meant to be a destination, it was always a journey... 

Monday, June 25, 2012

A Strange Day.........

It’s a day to be quiet; spent in anger and disguise. Because it’s a kind of day that scares you, scares you deep, and scares you good, real good I mean. When you are afraid of nothing more around you, but only yourself.

Afraid of what you have become, if only for a day. 

And so you take a day off, a day off from yourself. The trick is to just take a back seat and watch the world go, like a small tin can rolling down the slanted street.

And if you would watch it for too long, you would realize that it’s never rolling in, nor rolling out. Because it never grows too near nor too far, it just rolls. 

So what do you do? 

You just take a walk down thae street. You simply roll with the can, and never take your eyes off it. You watched it dance, and follow suit. Watch it pull every god damn trick from the bag that is there to be had, and you watch. And ask no questions.

No questions ever. Because there are no answers to be had. 

And once you have walked far enough, long enough, you realize you are not alone. No way near! There are people, and always more people. It’s a form of rejoice, a bloody festival out there. Like an ugly welcome, watching them grinning, or somber to the core.     

Walking down the street, filled with walking sticks, moral harelips and hunchbacks, people all around, it was like watching a thousand pig heads sticking out of thousand human torsos, made me feel like a captive walking down an Indian gauntlet, walking down to the scaffold.  

And continued on. Walkin’, and humming, Trying to make every moment count. Knowing this is as close to fun as I am capable of being. 

And then, from the corner from my eyes, I see a beggar approaching. A beggar with a shine. A physical matchstick of a man with perhaps only enough blood pumped each day to keep the chest heaving. 

As the beggar neared, smiling, I spotted a set of healthy white teeth unveiled as his lips widened.

What a smile? I wondered. Now realizing where all the blood in his veins was spent. Like every fiber of his body and soul, the heart, the bones and the blood, committed for one jingle of glory; to keep the teeth shining. 

And I moved on. Ignoring him as soon as I first noticed him.

Straight down my eye line, a mother is comforting a little punk ass of her son, a fat round spoiled brat who had just found out that the world isn’t something to be taken granted for. While mother cuddles him, telling him things that like most parents do, things that little punk ass kid like this one has no use for, nor the care. 

I watch the kid sobbing, making economical use of his limited set of tears. Spending each with prolonged intermissions, while filling the gap with noise that, with their varying ebb and flow, perhaps represented more grief than there was a genuine case for. 

And the woman with expensive embroidery around her hanging cowish motherly skin, the kind of skin that has given birth to hordes of such brats, one too many perhaps, and dark eye shades, kept telling him to trust her, and to have faith in God, though which of those statements she actually meant to be true, it was hard to guess. 

Apparently the little kid has taken a fall, face first, into the hard concrete ground, chasing a wild puppy in the street, apparently meaning more harm than love to that innocent creature of God.

And his nose bled, and the bleeding wouldn’t stop, and each drop only brought him closer to death, closer to the unknown, or so the fat kid in big shorts thought. Knowing that he only meant harm to an innocent soul, to a puppy that was now nowhere to be seen, and there would be hell to pay if he dies now, without repentance. 

And deservingly so. I mused and moved on. All men should burn for what they do. 5 years old or 85, what’s the difference?

Leaving them to their perils behind, I reached for the cell from my pocket, wishing to make a connection. Recalling an earlier conversation I had, or the lack of it for that matter. Because a phone call spent in silent misunderstanding is not conversation. 

Make a connection. But with what? I fumbled in my thoughts. It’s hard to understand the man who woke up in my bed today, it’s hard to look him in the mirror and reach out. 

I slipped the cell back in my pocket, wishing nothing no more. Afraid of the disappointment that might await me on the other end of the frequency. Because a hope of being loved, and of being understood, of expectations, bring along with them a hordes of fear and apprehensions. 


Twists & Turns. And so much complications. Yet we are living. Sometimes, without a definite ambition. Sometimes with an overwhelming goal.

A goal which makes you cross your own limits, your own records. A goal, which turns your entire self and brings out the polished version of a new you. Sometimes, the goal takes you to the height of every possibility you've ever imagined to reach. Meanwhile, these goals can be your worst enemies. Maybe when they're not fulfilled or when you just don't have one. As they say, you'd turn into a wrecked soul searching for nothing and yet you'd be feeling all the uneasiness to do something, to achieve something. But what? That's where you miss it.

What exactly these goals are? Your wishes? Objectives? Things you want to achieve? Things you want to live with? Or may be a future image of you in a better position or in a better character? Nevertheless, we all are linked with such goals, when we have one or when we don't have one.

But isn't it better to have a goal and look forward to do something in life? Without caring for the ultimate result, for the ultimate goal?

Here, another thought strikes me. If you just don't think of the ultimate result and keep making your short term goals, how would you then align all your goals with the ultimate one? with the big picture? HOW??

Well, confusions and solutions. They are a part of our twisted curvy life. What fun it would have been without much complications if we were to live a simple boring life with no curves but boring dull straight paths?

So better, live with the twists and who knows you might end up getting something which you cherish for all your life?

It could be anything. May be the F grades which made you switch your courses? or the girl/guy who broke your heart and made you realize that you deserve someone way better than her/him?

Well, life goes on with the complications. Yet, sometimes you cant help thinking about the opportunity cost. But maybe, there are better options? or maybe, you didn't deserve such greatness which you repent about? Well, in all those circumstances, one thing remains the same. You cant just let go of a few things no matter how hard you try. You just cant. And so, i just cant..</span>