Have you ever felt such that what is just a vileness of time, is infact the only manner in which it can appeal to you? That being inherently nefarious, while in black and white may be revolting, yet in the tumult of all the shades that it guises itself, in, that is what draws us to it? Maybe being all good is not what Man innately desires. A twist of the pernicious, and that too very insidiously sprinkled. Please, no straightforward evil, lest it tear away the veil of innocence and adroitness with which I cover myself before I sleep every night.
And yet my haunches hurt. As do my guts. All that is toxic, is indeed so. And it comes out. Agonizingly. Violently. Painfully. Excruciatingly so. Manifestations of the very essence of which it is made. Bloodied, gored, skewered. And even as tears. As salty as the ocean, and just as powerfully wilful.
I think it's relative. In the sense that at some point of time, I really do feel like Superman. At other points of time, it's as if I am on Kryptonite. And then some moments are just crazy enough to make me Lex Luthor. And maybe it makes most sense, because although Luthor was in a prison, no one could ever imprison his mind and its machinations and its sheer genius. Uncannily, and unwittingly, Superman always emerges victorious. But credit goes to Luthor, for making Superman struggle to be what he is. Hence again proving that only through the whimisical vagaries and vicissitudes of evil and darkness are goodness and light born and sustained.
I'm not sure what I am writing here. As a writer, I am supposed to give the readers something that is worth their time.
Point noted. Duly.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Lady Who Danced My Heart Away.
I went to Ruby Tuesday earlier today with a couple of my friends, who wanted to guzzle in some alcohol into their systems. Since I'm off alcohol since some time, I tried a variety of ice-cream colas, while the guys had beer and vodka.
I love Ruby Tuesday over here in Chandigarh, and I sit there for hours usually when I go there. The decor, ambience, music, and not to mention, the food is especially nice, and really appealing to me. I even know the manager there now well enough to get a special booth anytime I go there.
Today, something strange happened, that left me thinking. A lady, in her early 40s, very immaculately dressed in a brown top, black trousers and a lovely black and grey stole, a lovely flower print handbag, and with hair left open came into RT. She must have been a really pretty lady in her youth, and still had the elan to carry it off wonderfully well. However, the moment she stepped in, she kept her handbag on a stool, and her scarf beside it, and started jiving to this music that was playing. It was an old song, "Brother Louie". And she did it wonderfully well, with no inhibitions at all. And this space on the floor is right next to where we were sitting. So we had a perfect view of it all.
We were shocked initially, but then the manager immediately came to us and told us that she was like this only, and has been so for so many years. How she comes to so many restaurants, eats a little, pays the bill, dances, and then goes away all smiles and laughs.
And at that time, I saw that smile on her face. She was happy. HAPPY. And I don't mean "Happy to meet you", or "Yes, I am a happy person." But really really HAPPY. She was at that perfect juncture, where she could still manage herself well, earn and spend money as she liked, and dance where she wanted.
I have always thought that I am a kind of person who doesn't care what people think. But there are still so many things I wouldn't do. But this lady, she showed me something today, that I think I will never forget in my life. She taught me, that actions speak better than words. That she was happy. That being happy is not about money or anything, but about being at peace with yourself.
I envy that lady. I really do. Not in a negative manner. But that I'm a fan of hers for life now. To dance where she wants. To laugh how she wants. To live the way she wants.
Suddenly, Friedrich Nietschze shouts out loudly, and NOW crystal clearly:
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."
Dance. Laugh. Live on, Lady.
- Vinaykrishnan.
I love Ruby Tuesday over here in Chandigarh, and I sit there for hours usually when I go there. The decor, ambience, music, and not to mention, the food is especially nice, and really appealing to me. I even know the manager there now well enough to get a special booth anytime I go there.
Today, something strange happened, that left me thinking. A lady, in her early 40s, very immaculately dressed in a brown top, black trousers and a lovely black and grey stole, a lovely flower print handbag, and with hair left open came into RT. She must have been a really pretty lady in her youth, and still had the elan to carry it off wonderfully well. However, the moment she stepped in, she kept her handbag on a stool, and her scarf beside it, and started jiving to this music that was playing. It was an old song, "Brother Louie". And she did it wonderfully well, with no inhibitions at all. And this space on the floor is right next to where we were sitting. So we had a perfect view of it all.
We were shocked initially, but then the manager immediately came to us and told us that she was like this only, and has been so for so many years. How she comes to so many restaurants, eats a little, pays the bill, dances, and then goes away all smiles and laughs.
And at that time, I saw that smile on her face. She was happy. HAPPY. And I don't mean "Happy to meet you", or "Yes, I am a happy person." But really really HAPPY. She was at that perfect juncture, where she could still manage herself well, earn and spend money as she liked, and dance where she wanted.
I have always thought that I am a kind of person who doesn't care what people think. But there are still so many things I wouldn't do. But this lady, she showed me something today, that I think I will never forget in my life. She taught me, that actions speak better than words. That she was happy. That being happy is not about money or anything, but about being at peace with yourself.
I envy that lady. I really do. Not in a negative manner. But that I'm a fan of hers for life now. To dance where she wants. To laugh how she wants. To live the way she wants.
Suddenly, Friedrich Nietschze shouts out loudly, and NOW crystal clearly:
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."
Dance. Laugh. Live on, Lady.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Some Words I Love
Everyone has to love some words. They may be words they use a lot, or which mean something to them, etc. Some very common words that I love are:
-> Nice - I really think that the word "Nice" has got that feeling of actually being nice. It's different from good, or fine, or pleasant, etc., because I can actually speak it in whatever tone I want, and it would take the same meaning, no matter what.
-> Intellectual – The perfect word for that state of mind, of being clever and articulate and intelligent and smart and witty and sometimes, even snobbish about knowledge, but in a very nice manner.
-> Sexy – Pretty much conveys the meaning perfectly, doesn’t it?
-> Horrible – The sound of this word itself expresses that something is really bad or so gross that it makes us think of a word as intense as horrible.
-> Touch – Anytime I feel the need for a Touch, it really pops up in my head as the exact word to express my emotion.
-> Hello – Hello is not just a greeting. It’s a way of telling someone that you care, and that you love them. That what is going on in their world actually matters to you.
-> Amazing – As amazing as Amazing!!! The sound itself conveys the exact meaning, and infact precedes the meaning notion in my brain.
- Vinaykrishnan.
-> Nice - I really think that the word "Nice" has got that feeling of actually being nice. It's different from good, or fine, or pleasant, etc., because I can actually speak it in whatever tone I want, and it would take the same meaning, no matter what.
-> Intellectual – The perfect word for that state of mind, of being clever and articulate and intelligent and smart and witty and sometimes, even snobbish about knowledge, but in a very nice manner.
-> Sexy – Pretty much conveys the meaning perfectly, doesn’t it?
-> Horrible – The sound of this word itself expresses that something is really bad or so gross that it makes us think of a word as intense as horrible.
-> Touch – Anytime I feel the need for a Touch, it really pops up in my head as the exact word to express my emotion.
-> Hello – Hello is not just a greeting. It’s a way of telling someone that you care, and that you love them. That what is going on in their world actually matters to you.
-> Amazing – As amazing as Amazing!!! The sound itself conveys the exact meaning, and infact precedes the meaning notion in my brain.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Loss of Faith
I am losing faith now in something that I have learnt and applauded and imbibed in my life. Communism. It's losing the stronghold it had in my mind over the last few years in belief, and over the last decade in thought process.
Upliftment of the masses, improvement in living conditions for the Proletariat, all these are now clichéd words, as I realise the actual tumult of the people who live in such a government. The agony of getting simple things done becoming so unimaginably difficult is proof in itself that they system is flawed at worst, and needs to be bespoke at best. Taking money and power from the upper economical strata of the society and distributing it to the people has only ultimately succeeded in making the people lazy and arrogant.
Not more than a couple of decades ago, Kerala was the main supplier of all vegetables to Tamil Nadu. Now, it is the opposite, with Kerala only sustaining due to the Tamil Nadu market. Fraudulently claiming that labour is the backbone of the Kerala Communist Society, (which it USED to be until recently), the Communist workers still go about parading themselves as the saviours of a land that, in reality, has all the saviours and protectors and redeemers in the general public itself.
Sorry Comrades, but we do not need YOU to protect us. In fact, we want protection FROM YOU.
Another simple example. I know a family who wanted to get their house items shifted from their rented apartment, to a flat of their own. They appointed a group of 3-4 people to get the job done. When moving the luggage on the truck, they were however stopped, and they had to pay some money to the Communist Party Labour Union because the workers in their stead were not Commie-registered. What kind of non-sense is this? I mean, first you say, that give power to the masses. Give work to the lay man. And then when we do, you go about charging us for it?! It’s either really stupid of you, or really stupid of you. Sure, you made a few quick bucks and the problem of booze for that night is solved. But is this really how you would bring progress in your life, or to the lives of the others around you? And is this really how the land would be redeemed? If it is, then it indeed is a land beyond redemption, scarred with not just the occasional, but the very frequent marks of violence, greed and foolishness.
What this system needs is a prosector, a prosecutor and a persecutor. And a lot of common sense.
Lal Salaam, they say. Sorry Saare, but I cannot offer my Salaams to you anymore.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Upliftment of the masses, improvement in living conditions for the Proletariat, all these are now clichéd words, as I realise the actual tumult of the people who live in such a government. The agony of getting simple things done becoming so unimaginably difficult is proof in itself that they system is flawed at worst, and needs to be bespoke at best. Taking money and power from the upper economical strata of the society and distributing it to the people has only ultimately succeeded in making the people lazy and arrogant.
Not more than a couple of decades ago, Kerala was the main supplier of all vegetables to Tamil Nadu. Now, it is the opposite, with Kerala only sustaining due to the Tamil Nadu market. Fraudulently claiming that labour is the backbone of the Kerala Communist Society, (which it USED to be until recently), the Communist workers still go about parading themselves as the saviours of a land that, in reality, has all the saviours and protectors and redeemers in the general public itself.
Sorry Comrades, but we do not need YOU to protect us. In fact, we want protection FROM YOU.
Another simple example. I know a family who wanted to get their house items shifted from their rented apartment, to a flat of their own. They appointed a group of 3-4 people to get the job done. When moving the luggage on the truck, they were however stopped, and they had to pay some money to the Communist Party Labour Union because the workers in their stead were not Commie-registered. What kind of non-sense is this? I mean, first you say, that give power to the masses. Give work to the lay man. And then when we do, you go about charging us for it?! It’s either really stupid of you, or really stupid of you. Sure, you made a few quick bucks and the problem of booze for that night is solved. But is this really how you would bring progress in your life, or to the lives of the others around you? And is this really how the land would be redeemed? If it is, then it indeed is a land beyond redemption, scarred with not just the occasional, but the very frequent marks of violence, greed and foolishness.
What this system needs is a prosector, a prosecutor and a persecutor. And a lot of common sense.
Lal Salaam, they say. Sorry Saare, but I cannot offer my Salaams to you anymore.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Kazhchapaad
I'm confused. It's like I'm in the middle of the road. One side is lined with cacti and those small dolphin fountains, these alternatively arranged about 8 feet from each other. The other side is drearily bare of any vegetation or embellishment. And this road is leading to, and coming from, no where. So basically, it's like being on a road that I hate being on, and don't know about, both at the same time. Sounds crappy, right? Yeah. Imagine actually being there.
I thought that I would not have to deal with any more trifling situations. But I'm now right in the middle of one. It's weird. I mean, I know what I have to do. And I know what I should not do. I also know what I wish. But I'm just not sure whether all of this would ultimately culminate into a successful consequence. The all-and-ever-humbling end result. "Karm kar, phal ki aasha mat rakh." Bah... I wish I could ask this statement to kiss my ass.
I simply can wait now. I guess. I don't even know if I am making sense anymore. Or if it's the things around me that are so weird that even my making sense is utter non-sense. But in no case is the sense or non-sense around me, or about me, absolute. It is all relative. So I am not the only player in this game. There is another angle to this game. Another twist of the fates. Another roll of the dice. And that is where all of this gets so interesting.
I hope to someday explain all of this to you. And make you understand, that none of this, while entirely relevant now, is non-sense. But that it is all like a extremely difficult theorem, being narrated in reverse order, by a professor who is not speaking the same language as you.
Ende Kazhchapaad. Or should I say, My Perspective.
- Vinaykrishnan.
I thought that I would not have to deal with any more trifling situations. But I'm now right in the middle of one. It's weird. I mean, I know what I have to do. And I know what I should not do. I also know what I wish. But I'm just not sure whether all of this would ultimately culminate into a successful consequence. The all-and-ever-humbling end result. "Karm kar, phal ki aasha mat rakh." Bah... I wish I could ask this statement to kiss my ass.
I simply can wait now. I guess. I don't even know if I am making sense anymore. Or if it's the things around me that are so weird that even my making sense is utter non-sense. But in no case is the sense or non-sense around me, or about me, absolute. It is all relative. So I am not the only player in this game. There is another angle to this game. Another twist of the fates. Another roll of the dice. And that is where all of this gets so interesting.
I hope to someday explain all of this to you. And make you understand, that none of this, while entirely relevant now, is non-sense. But that it is all like a extremely difficult theorem, being narrated in reverse order, by a professor who is not speaking the same language as you.
Ende Kazhchapaad. Or should I say, My Perspective.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Mixed Bag Indian
People have always told me that I actually live by the adage "When in Rome, live as the Romans". I was a Gujju for most of my life, and that too of various places. I was a Mithapurian at first, then was tagged a Kathiyawadi, then an Anandi, and sometimes even somewhere in between.
I left Gujarat, went to Kerala. Was there for 4 months, my longest stretch there. Before that I only used to go there for vacations and the likes. I took to being a Commie, I used to lap up all the Malayalam news channels and movie songs. I remember I used to sit at the Indian Coffee house close to my IPSR class and used to hear through the Commie meetings that took place. I remember clearly those animatedly rising wisps of coffee behind which I subversively hid and noticed all the proceedings and discussions on dogmas and actions, which became one of the reasons behind the formation of my thought process regarding politics, religion, people and life. As G.B. Shaw put it, "Any man who is not a communist at the age of twenty is a fool. Any man who is still a communist at the age of thirty is an even bigger fool."
But then Chandigarh happened from no where. It just came as quick as a wink, and I found myself in the land of the Paghris, huge people, Bhangra, chicken and alcohol. (Forgive me for stereotyping, but these are predominantly visible).
And I fell in love with this place. It was the perfect place for everything. Organized, clean, orderly, safe and secure, convenient - everything you look for in a place. I found a great group of people who not only are today part of my best friends, but also my guides, philosophers, confidantes and partners-in-crime.
The thing that I think has amazed me most is the music here. Yes, yes, most of the songs are about 3 things - women, alcohol and guns/fights. But there indeed are some amazing songs which truly hold your heart in a fist and make you gasp at their absolute brilliance. Some songs that talk about relationships, some that talk about folktales of love and valor, some that talk about life and change. It's all there. Some that make you want to stand up and forget everything about life and its worries, and just sway to the tune and beats.
The following are some of the most amazingly wonderful songs I have heard here:
1. Mirza - Sung by Sukhshinder Shinda, there is a version done by Hari, which is absolutely fabulous. Tells the story of Mirza, Sahibaan's lover. And a tragic tale it is too.
http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/artist_songs/347287
2. Maa - Malkit Singh has done an absolutely fabulous job. The lyrics do touch a few chords too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7vQztdLpMs (Don't think too much about the video though. Punjabi film-making needs to still come a long way).
3. Challa - Gurdas Maan. One of the best singers to ever grace the Punjabi music scene, this is the song that really touched me, especially when I learnt the meaning of the song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zhDKEUYv6Q&feature=related (And yes, that is Raj Babbar).
4. Kiven mukhre ton nazaran hatawan - Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan Saab did this so beautifully. The music, lyrics and of course Nusrat Saab. Lethal combination truly. It's a long song, but the rise of the tempo with each stanza is so powerfully combined with the perfect mix of Nusrat Saab and the chorus. One cannot ever not like this song. It's so brilliant.
http://player.raag.fm/player/?browser=flash&pick[]=300138
5. Aaja ve Mahi - Hans Raj Hans. The song is so hauntingly beautiful. I actually felt as if I am calling out to my love to come to me for my eyes are waiting to fall on you since so long.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSMML5YuO9c&p=9992E095C9D7D0C2&playnext=1&index=88
That's all I can think of right now. There are many more. I'll come up with some more soon. Till then, Proud to be a Gujju/Mallu/Punju Indian. :-)
- Vinaykrishnan.
I left Gujarat, went to Kerala. Was there for 4 months, my longest stretch there. Before that I only used to go there for vacations and the likes. I took to being a Commie, I used to lap up all the Malayalam news channels and movie songs. I remember I used to sit at the Indian Coffee house close to my IPSR class and used to hear through the Commie meetings that took place. I remember clearly those animatedly rising wisps of coffee behind which I subversively hid and noticed all the proceedings and discussions on dogmas and actions, which became one of the reasons behind the formation of my thought process regarding politics, religion, people and life. As G.B. Shaw put it, "Any man who is not a communist at the age of twenty is a fool. Any man who is still a communist at the age of thirty is an even bigger fool."
But then Chandigarh happened from no where. It just came as quick as a wink, and I found myself in the land of the Paghris, huge people, Bhangra, chicken and alcohol. (Forgive me for stereotyping, but these are predominantly visible).
And I fell in love with this place. It was the perfect place for everything. Organized, clean, orderly, safe and secure, convenient - everything you look for in a place. I found a great group of people who not only are today part of my best friends, but also my guides, philosophers, confidantes and partners-in-crime.
The thing that I think has amazed me most is the music here. Yes, yes, most of the songs are about 3 things - women, alcohol and guns/fights. But there indeed are some amazing songs which truly hold your heart in a fist and make you gasp at their absolute brilliance. Some songs that talk about relationships, some that talk about folktales of love and valor, some that talk about life and change. It's all there. Some that make you want to stand up and forget everything about life and its worries, and just sway to the tune and beats.
The following are some of the most amazingly wonderful songs I have heard here:
1. Mirza - Sung by Sukhshinder Shinda, there is a version done by Hari, which is absolutely fabulous. Tells the story of Mirza, Sahibaan's lover. And a tragic tale it is too.
http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/artist_songs/347287
2. Maa - Malkit Singh has done an absolutely fabulous job. The lyrics do touch a few chords too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7vQztdLpMs (Don't think too much about the video though. Punjabi film-making needs to still come a long way).
3. Challa - Gurdas Maan. One of the best singers to ever grace the Punjabi music scene, this is the song that really touched me, especially when I learnt the meaning of the song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zhDKEUYv6Q&feature=related (And yes, that is Raj Babbar).
4. Kiven mukhre ton nazaran hatawan - Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan Saab did this so beautifully. The music, lyrics and of course Nusrat Saab. Lethal combination truly. It's a long song, but the rise of the tempo with each stanza is so powerfully combined with the perfect mix of Nusrat Saab and the chorus. One cannot ever not like this song. It's so brilliant.
http://player.raag.fm/player/?browser=flash&pick[]=300138
5. Aaja ve Mahi - Hans Raj Hans. The song is so hauntingly beautiful. I actually felt as if I am calling out to my love to come to me for my eyes are waiting to fall on you since so long.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSMML5YuO9c&p=9992E095C9D7D0C2&playnext=1&index=88
That's all I can think of right now. There are many more. I'll come up with some more soon. Till then, Proud to be a Gujju/Mallu/Punju Indian. :-)
- Vinaykrishnan.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Random Expressions (Again).
Every man goes through it, they say. Moments of such magnitude and eye-opening splendour, that everything else looks that bit less glamorous. I would hate to think that I might miss out on being nostalgic about those littler things that made my life have something to think about, but then in the grand scheme of things, it is these things that, in comparison to my current state of being, allow me to fully appreciate what life is all about. I remember being happy when I got myself a gift from my first salary. It was a lovely watch. A Mickey Mouse watch, infact. What with the white dial, and the hands of Mickey telling me the time. Not the plastic flap one, mind you. That I had when I was a kid. I think my parents got one each for my sister and me. This one was more refined. More childish, and yet more mature. Always, as Langdon (or should I say, Dan Brown), so eloquently put it, to remind me that there is a child in me, and that I always need to stay young at heart.
That's just one moment I remember fondly. There are a gazillion others. But now, with the torrent of emotions and feelings that I am drowning in, I really cannot say whether those will ever matter to me. I want them to. I want to hold onto them.
I guess I'll just have to wait to find out.
- Vinaykrishnan.
That's just one moment I remember fondly. There are a gazillion others. But now, with the torrent of emotions and feelings that I am drowning in, I really cannot say whether those will ever matter to me. I want them to. I want to hold onto them.
I guess I'll just have to wait to find out.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
A Fitting Farewell.
It's been a hard 2.5 years here. Work has been tough, and so has been life outside of it. But I always found some comfort in it all because I have found a few good pals. The 2 criminals in question here, Mac and Viv. But now, they are shifting to greater pastures in that ever-haunting quest for El Dorado.
As Joe Cocker put it, "I get by with a little help from my friends." Fortunately for me, I got more than just help from you guys. I got a lot of advice (unasked for), abuses (undeservedly so), alcohol (unending streams of it actually), and a whole lot of affection.
I always took for granted that you guys would be around. Even though you always told me that you would leave. I never ever thought that I'd actually be at a juncture where in I'd be thinking, "Damn, with these guys gone, it's gonna be tough out here."
You guys are amazing. Both of you have been my friends, philosophers and guides. I have learnt immeasurably from you both, and shall continue to always look to you guys for support, advice and loans.
I shall pray for your happiness and prosperity and good sex lives for years and years to come. Hope to be with you guys someday in Bangalore and relive all that you guys are leaving behind.
God bless you both. Cheers!
- Vinaykrishnan.
As Joe Cocker put it, "I get by with a little help from my friends." Fortunately for me, I got more than just help from you guys. I got a lot of advice (unasked for), abuses (undeservedly so), alcohol (unending streams of it actually), and a whole lot of affection.
I always took for granted that you guys would be around. Even though you always told me that you would leave. I never ever thought that I'd actually be at a juncture where in I'd be thinking, "Damn, with these guys gone, it's gonna be tough out here."
You guys are amazing. Both of you have been my friends, philosophers and guides. I have learnt immeasurably from you both, and shall continue to always look to you guys for support, advice and loans.
I shall pray for your happiness and prosperity and good sex lives for years and years to come. Hope to be with you guys someday in Bangalore and relive all that you guys are leaving behind.
God bless you both. Cheers!
- Vinaykrishnan.
Waiting.
I am at a loss now. I simply cannot wait anymore. It’s this feeling inside that just grows bigger and bigger. I wish time did speed up a little for now, and then maybe compensate by slowing that at that moment. That moment, I want to see with a magnifying glass. All clear and crystal. Vivid. Lucid.
But I do not know what to do with the time that is given to me now before it does come. I’m now just biding time. Waiting. It seems eternities away. And also seems that eternities have already passed since I have started waiting. Time just endlessly spiralling away.
I just can’t seem to do anything with this period of time that I need to spend before I can actually get to that moment. I have heard the cliché that the moment is always worth all the waiting in the world. But right now, while I’m waiting, I just can’t think good of it too much.
As Frances Anne Kemble so eloquently put it:
What shall I do with all the days and hours
That must be counted before I see your face?
How shall I charm the interval that remains
Between this time, and that sweet time of grace?
- Vinaykrishnan
But I do not know what to do with the time that is given to me now before it does come. I’m now just biding time. Waiting. It seems eternities away. And also seems that eternities have already passed since I have started waiting. Time just endlessly spiralling away.
I just can’t seem to do anything with this period of time that I need to spend before I can actually get to that moment. I have heard the cliché that the moment is always worth all the waiting in the world. But right now, while I’m waiting, I just can’t think good of it too much.
As Frances Anne Kemble so eloquently put it:
What shall I do with all the days and hours
That must be counted before I see your face?
How shall I charm the interval that remains
Between this time, and that sweet time of grace?
- Vinaykrishnan
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Coffee Woman
It’s beautiful here in Munnar in the day time. The gentle slopes allow the whole expanse to be visible from any high point, and the sun rays filtered down by the clouds, glimmering on their way down in parts and pieces render an ethereal air to this place. The green vast expanses of the coffee orchards compliment the golden shimmer of the sun’s light and in totality with the blue-grey of the skies, offer a multitude of not only colours, but also of emotions to the viewer. The slight mist in the mornings, that end up as water droplets on the coffee leaves look like diamonds sparkling in green velvet. It’s one of the most beautiful places I have even seen in my life in the day time.
At night, it tends to become spooky.
I’ve been here for almost 6 months now. I came from Delhi, to learn and research about coffee plantations, and the prospects for developing newer varieties of coffee that can do without chicory. Pretty ironical, to think of studying coffee, given that I come from a predominantly “Chai” culture. But that’s a totally different story.
I got here from a flight to Kozhikode, the erstwhile Calicut, where King Zamorin (Ruler of the Seas) allowed the Portuguese to start trading about 500 years ago. Known for spices, condiments and coffee, this land of greenery and scenic wonders amazed me. For a city boy, who has only seen skyscrapers and shanties in the cities, this was quite extraordinary. I took the bus to Munnar, and landed at the Carine Coffee production setup there. I was received there and taken to meet the Operations Manager, a lady by the name of Lakshmikutty. Her story is what I am here to tell you.
LK, (that’s what I called her), was a tall, slim and dark-complexioned lady in her mid-thirties. She was single and was residing in one of the bedrooms of the guest house. She was in charge of the coffee production unit here, and managed the entire doings of the 45 employees working here. She was good at her job, not a doubt about it. Very vocal, and very energetic, this dynamic lady could make a dead person stand up and work. But outside of work, she was an entirely different person. She was shy, reserved, and almost reticent when not working. I know her well outside of work, because I put up in the same guest house with her. I couldn’t afford a hotel here, and there weren’t any dorms that I could put up in. The company owner, one Mr. E. S. Prasanth, asked LK if she would be comfortable with me putting up in the other bedroom of the guest house, and she did not mind.
I got to know the company better, and LK’s knowledge of it all astounded me. She was devoted to her job, and knew all the ins and outs of coffee like the back of her hand. She worked for the pure joy of it. (Her salary wasn’t all that good). She had barely any visitors, and those who came never stayed too long. She was lonely, and since I was the only person around after work, we got to know each other pretty well.
I still remember. Every day after work, I’d take a stroll through the hills and valleys, the beauty of it all never dying to my thirsty eyes. When I’d get to the guest house, LK would make me the best coffee ever. I turned into a coffee person. My mother hated it, saying, “You will go all black with curly hair if you keep drinking coffee!” I couldn’t help laughing. Over this coffee, LK and I would discuss things a lot. She was a very good writer, and sometimes she read out some of her poetry to me. Initially, we found it tough to have conversations, and we were always struggling in awkward silences in each other’s company. But then we opened up to each other. Her insights into Indian, and especially Kerala, history were razor sharp. She was a very good writer, (as I have already mentioned) and she was very interested in knowing about how people live in big cities and what’s different and what’s not.
I slowly learnt that she had no family per se, only distant relatives, who really weren’t more than just that – distant. Her parents had died a few years back of natural causes, and she hadn’t married because she never wanted to.
This rapport went on for a while. Then things started to change. For the worse. The company was slowly going bankrupt. It wasn’t a very large revenue generator in any case, always just breaking even. But the fertilizer rates going up affected the whole system here. LK started getting tense day by day, and started working extra to patch things up. But it just was not working out correct. I could only stand and watch as I was also almost about to end my research term here.
But something happened. LK started pouring in money to the company chest. I don’t know where she got it from, and it was a mystery. She never revealed it, and I, though inquisitive, was not a person who would force answers.
One night, I was strolling in the market, and a couple of cops came up to me saying that I had to report to the police station. I went willingly, knowing that this must just be a formality. I ended up spending the whole night in prison. Apparently, there had been a spate of 7 murders in the last fortnight. All of the victims had their internal organs cut out. Some had no kidneys, some had no liver. And some even had their eyeballs gauged out. It was horrifying. Luckily, next morning, the security guard came by on my phone call and attested to me being at work during the day times, and at the guest house during nights. I was released from prison, and I went back to my room feeling very depressed.
LK was waiting for me there. She made me some coffee and handed me a piece of paper. I read through it. I couldn’t understand at first. Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. The coffee cup in my hand started shaking with the trembling of my hand. This was on the piece of paper:
Ashwini – 7000/-
Ramendran – 12000/-
Appukuttan – 10000/-
Abu Backer – 5500/-
Vijayanathan – 6000/-
Satheesh – 3500/-
Ammu – 7500/-
There was one more name in the list. The last one. It was mine. But it had no figures next to it. I looked up at LK, and she just lowered her eyes.
- Vinaykrishnan.
(Thanks for the idea, loved it!)
At night, it tends to become spooky.
I’ve been here for almost 6 months now. I came from Delhi, to learn and research about coffee plantations, and the prospects for developing newer varieties of coffee that can do without chicory. Pretty ironical, to think of studying coffee, given that I come from a predominantly “Chai” culture. But that’s a totally different story.
I got here from a flight to Kozhikode, the erstwhile Calicut, where King Zamorin (Ruler of the Seas) allowed the Portuguese to start trading about 500 years ago. Known for spices, condiments and coffee, this land of greenery and scenic wonders amazed me. For a city boy, who has only seen skyscrapers and shanties in the cities, this was quite extraordinary. I took the bus to Munnar, and landed at the Carine Coffee production setup there. I was received there and taken to meet the Operations Manager, a lady by the name of Lakshmikutty. Her story is what I am here to tell you.
LK, (that’s what I called her), was a tall, slim and dark-complexioned lady in her mid-thirties. She was single and was residing in one of the bedrooms of the guest house. She was in charge of the coffee production unit here, and managed the entire doings of the 45 employees working here. She was good at her job, not a doubt about it. Very vocal, and very energetic, this dynamic lady could make a dead person stand up and work. But outside of work, she was an entirely different person. She was shy, reserved, and almost reticent when not working. I know her well outside of work, because I put up in the same guest house with her. I couldn’t afford a hotel here, and there weren’t any dorms that I could put up in. The company owner, one Mr. E. S. Prasanth, asked LK if she would be comfortable with me putting up in the other bedroom of the guest house, and she did not mind.
I got to know the company better, and LK’s knowledge of it all astounded me. She was devoted to her job, and knew all the ins and outs of coffee like the back of her hand. She worked for the pure joy of it. (Her salary wasn’t all that good). She had barely any visitors, and those who came never stayed too long. She was lonely, and since I was the only person around after work, we got to know each other pretty well.
I still remember. Every day after work, I’d take a stroll through the hills and valleys, the beauty of it all never dying to my thirsty eyes. When I’d get to the guest house, LK would make me the best coffee ever. I turned into a coffee person. My mother hated it, saying, “You will go all black with curly hair if you keep drinking coffee!” I couldn’t help laughing. Over this coffee, LK and I would discuss things a lot. She was a very good writer, and sometimes she read out some of her poetry to me. Initially, we found it tough to have conversations, and we were always struggling in awkward silences in each other’s company. But then we opened up to each other. Her insights into Indian, and especially Kerala, history were razor sharp. She was a very good writer, (as I have already mentioned) and she was very interested in knowing about how people live in big cities and what’s different and what’s not.
I slowly learnt that she had no family per se, only distant relatives, who really weren’t more than just that – distant. Her parents had died a few years back of natural causes, and she hadn’t married because she never wanted to.
This rapport went on for a while. Then things started to change. For the worse. The company was slowly going bankrupt. It wasn’t a very large revenue generator in any case, always just breaking even. But the fertilizer rates going up affected the whole system here. LK started getting tense day by day, and started working extra to patch things up. But it just was not working out correct. I could only stand and watch as I was also almost about to end my research term here.
But something happened. LK started pouring in money to the company chest. I don’t know where she got it from, and it was a mystery. She never revealed it, and I, though inquisitive, was not a person who would force answers.
One night, I was strolling in the market, and a couple of cops came up to me saying that I had to report to the police station. I went willingly, knowing that this must just be a formality. I ended up spending the whole night in prison. Apparently, there had been a spate of 7 murders in the last fortnight. All of the victims had their internal organs cut out. Some had no kidneys, some had no liver. And some even had their eyeballs gauged out. It was horrifying. Luckily, next morning, the security guard came by on my phone call and attested to me being at work during the day times, and at the guest house during nights. I was released from prison, and I went back to my room feeling very depressed.
LK was waiting for me there. She made me some coffee and handed me a piece of paper. I read through it. I couldn’t understand at first. Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. The coffee cup in my hand started shaking with the trembling of my hand. This was on the piece of paper:
Ashwini – 7000/-
Ramendran – 12000/-
Appukuttan – 10000/-
Abu Backer – 5500/-
Vijayanathan – 6000/-
Satheesh – 3500/-
Ammu – 7500/-
There was one more name in the list. The last one. It was mine. But it had no figures next to it. I looked up at LK, and she just lowered her eyes.
- Vinaykrishnan.
(Thanks for the idea, loved it!)
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Acceptance
How does a man go from restless and worked up to happy and peaceful in one day? Is it even possible? I have been struggling for the remedy to this for so long.
My denial of the situation made me fidgety all the while. I did not know what to do. My insides were fighting with the alien sentiment inside of me. No symbiosis. No synergy. No understanding. It was utterly chaotic. One part of me was fighting this foreign being within me. I loved the idea of the being within me. It made me swell with joy. But the part where it actually threatened to take over my space actually caused panic within me. A well of dread and horror rose up within me. That I would lose my independence to this. That I would lose my individuality. That I would lose sight of who I am and what I am. That, despite all the magnificence and splendor of this notion within me, I would still fall into an abyss of darkness from where return is not possible. Feelings are a many-splendored thing. And truer this cannot be. They not only have the power to raise you beyond the ordinary, but also have the power to consume you till you are nothing but ashes and dust.
But I had a revelation. I decided not to fight this outlandish thing within me. I accepted the fact that this would not rest until I accept it. I stopped fighting it, and decided to simply let it be. I nursed it. Empowered it. Emboldened it. And suddenly it grew. Not like a thorny vine threatening the existence of the support. But like the moon. From the oblivion of the empty sky to the radiance of the full moon on a cloudless night. And suddenly, I am at peace. I feel so good that I simply don’t think what I write here is in any way doing justice to what I feel.
I accept. It’s a part of me now. And now, given the case, it is integrally a part of me. Inseparable. Trying though the circumstances maybe, I will not ever let go. This feeling of rest, and calm, and the feeling of the quenching of my thirst I shall not forget.
Now you no longer haunt me or terrify me. I accept you. My acceptance is my deliverance. Totally. Completely. Wholly. Undoubtedly. Unabashedly. Unequivocally.
I accept.
- Vinaykrishnan.
My denial of the situation made me fidgety all the while. I did not know what to do. My insides were fighting with the alien sentiment inside of me. No symbiosis. No synergy. No understanding. It was utterly chaotic. One part of me was fighting this foreign being within me. I loved the idea of the being within me. It made me swell with joy. But the part where it actually threatened to take over my space actually caused panic within me. A well of dread and horror rose up within me. That I would lose my independence to this. That I would lose my individuality. That I would lose sight of who I am and what I am. That, despite all the magnificence and splendor of this notion within me, I would still fall into an abyss of darkness from where return is not possible. Feelings are a many-splendored thing. And truer this cannot be. They not only have the power to raise you beyond the ordinary, but also have the power to consume you till you are nothing but ashes and dust.
But I had a revelation. I decided not to fight this outlandish thing within me. I accepted the fact that this would not rest until I accept it. I stopped fighting it, and decided to simply let it be. I nursed it. Empowered it. Emboldened it. And suddenly it grew. Not like a thorny vine threatening the existence of the support. But like the moon. From the oblivion of the empty sky to the radiance of the full moon on a cloudless night. And suddenly, I am at peace. I feel so good that I simply don’t think what I write here is in any way doing justice to what I feel.
I accept. It’s a part of me now. And now, given the case, it is integrally a part of me. Inseparable. Trying though the circumstances maybe, I will not ever let go. This feeling of rest, and calm, and the feeling of the quenching of my thirst I shall not forget.
Now you no longer haunt me or terrify me. I accept you. My acceptance is my deliverance. Totally. Completely. Wholly. Undoubtedly. Unabashedly. Unequivocally.
I accept.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
My Space.
My Space.
That's what I named my blog. It is basically just a soft copy of the things in my head. My Space, hence, is my head. It's inside me. What I am. What I think. What I have that is solely my own. No one can take this part away from me.
Or so I thought.
Because then "You" happened. You had to come along, skipping daintily, and take away the last thing I had that was my own only. Mine. My only. My precious. My Space. You had to come and occupy every last inch of it. It's annoying. But I can't help it. You just took over it all. I can't get you out of my head. I keep thinking, dreaming about you. About what you are doing. Whether you are thinking of what I am doing. It's really annoying you know. You cheat! Give me My Space back! You cannot be so good that you occupy it all. You have got to have some thing that isn't so spectacular. How can you, or anyone, be so beautifully perfect?! It's un-bloody-believable!
The mind is the only thing that is private to a man. To every man. But there you are. Taking it all up. For filling it with things like love and feelings and emotions and stuff like that. For staying here and drilling into it. I loved my thoughts. I thought I was untouchable. That I, as a thinker, was invincible in my own world.
You have blown me away. I'm only a reflection of you now.
- Vinaykrishnan.
That's what I named my blog. It is basically just a soft copy of the things in my head. My Space, hence, is my head. It's inside me. What I am. What I think. What I have that is solely my own. No one can take this part away from me.
Or so I thought.
Because then "You" happened. You had to come along, skipping daintily, and take away the last thing I had that was my own only. Mine. My only. My precious. My Space. You had to come and occupy every last inch of it. It's annoying. But I can't help it. You just took over it all. I can't get you out of my head. I keep thinking, dreaming about you. About what you are doing. Whether you are thinking of what I am doing. It's really annoying you know. You cheat! Give me My Space back! You cannot be so good that you occupy it all. You have got to have some thing that isn't so spectacular. How can you, or anyone, be so beautifully perfect?! It's un-bloody-believable!
The mind is the only thing that is private to a man. To every man. But there you are. Taking it all up. For filling it with things like love and feelings and emotions and stuff like that. For staying here and drilling into it. I loved my thoughts. I thought I was untouchable. That I, as a thinker, was invincible in my own world.
You have blown me away. I'm only a reflection of you now.
- Vinaykrishnan.
I believe.
It's no longer warm today. The season is now changing and the leaves have started giving way to the fall. I only noticed it when I was looking out the window today. Pretty happy, given that I've had a long summer, both, time and otherwise.
It's been a tough time. I've had some crashes and burns, that I don't think I can forget for a long long time. But then, there have been things that have made me happy. Things that make me look forward to the next day.
I always thought I just was existing. Breathing it in, and breathing it out. But then, there have been things, insights, that taught me how to live. I was amazed at how it's not the larger joys, but the smaller ones that we hold on to so dearly. It's not the way of the world - to hold on to anything. But these just are small quirks and moments in my life that I will never let go of.
Sometimes, I really think that this is just a phase, and that it will all go away. The joys, the moments, the people. But then I think, "No way! I'm not leting go. Not this time. Not this." It's pretty weird really, how I can actually decide that, given that fate is such a fickle lover. But I believe in the eccentricity of it all. The grand scheme of things. It's not all irrational or erratic. There is a pattern. A master plan. It's not something mere mortals like me or you can figure out initially. No. That's not how it works. It's more complex than the human mind can imagine. Way out of our league. But at the end, it all fits in. So all I'll do is try to see if there is anyway I can push things along to fit into the great jigsaw puzzle that's laid out in front of me.
I believe all that I write. I believe that I shall continue to "live", now that I have learnt, and not merely exist. I believe that someday my life will be my testimonial. I believe that one day I will look back and read this, and say, "That, Vinaykrishnan Menon, was a good decision to make."
I believe.
- Vinaykrishnan.
It's been a tough time. I've had some crashes and burns, that I don't think I can forget for a long long time. But then, there have been things that have made me happy. Things that make me look forward to the next day.
I always thought I just was existing. Breathing it in, and breathing it out. But then, there have been things, insights, that taught me how to live. I was amazed at how it's not the larger joys, but the smaller ones that we hold on to so dearly. It's not the way of the world - to hold on to anything. But these just are small quirks and moments in my life that I will never let go of.
Sometimes, I really think that this is just a phase, and that it will all go away. The joys, the moments, the people. But then I think, "No way! I'm not leting go. Not this time. Not this." It's pretty weird really, how I can actually decide that, given that fate is such a fickle lover. But I believe in the eccentricity of it all. The grand scheme of things. It's not all irrational or erratic. There is a pattern. A master plan. It's not something mere mortals like me or you can figure out initially. No. That's not how it works. It's more complex than the human mind can imagine. Way out of our league. But at the end, it all fits in. So all I'll do is try to see if there is anyway I can push things along to fit into the great jigsaw puzzle that's laid out in front of me.
I believe all that I write. I believe that I shall continue to "live", now that I have learnt, and not merely exist. I believe that someday my life will be my testimonial. I believe that one day I will look back and read this, and say, "That, Vinaykrishnan Menon, was a good decision to make."
I believe.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Friday, October 1, 2010
You.
It's 3 AM again. And I'm still up. I just cannot stop thinking about you. It's like adrenaline. It just keeps rising like when I'm thinking of ways to get to that rock in the middle of that effing waterfall. Like jaundice. In the middle of summer. Just doesn't go away. I'd love to simply let you out of my mind, so that I have some space that I can utilize for other things.
Not better things. Other things.
I wish I could simply have just said "Hi" everyday, and left it at that. But No. I HAD to fall for you. I HAD to tell you that I like you, and that given a chance, I would do anything possible to get you. I HAD to stop and tell you that I believe in miracles.
I'm still waiting for you to get back to me. I said Hi. Your move. But now I'm desperate. I simply cannot stop fidgeting with things around me. Checking my cell for your text every 5 minutes. And that's while it's on full ring volume. Imagine what I do when it is on silent mode.
It's like I'm standing at a crossroads. All of these lead to different places. But I'm still ready to pick any road that leads to you. "Two roads diverged in the woods", goes the poem. And I want to take the one that leads to you.
Again, another one by Frost:
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
All of this, just so that, I can reach a place, where I can see you, meet you, touch you. Explain to you that nothing else is important to me. It's like this monster inside of me. It growls every time you say another man's name. It purrs when you tell me that you miss me. That you miss chatting and talking to me. I know it's me you are looking for.
I wonder where you are right now, and I'm wondering what you're doing right now. I'm still waiting for your message, by the way. It's late. Really late.
"The last time you were a free man, the Brooklyn Dodgers were still the Brooklyn Dodgers, and Eisenhower was your President." (Just had to bring this in).
I'm still waiting.
Not better things. Other things.
I wish I could simply have just said "Hi" everyday, and left it at that. But No. I HAD to fall for you. I HAD to tell you that I like you, and that given a chance, I would do anything possible to get you. I HAD to stop and tell you that I believe in miracles.
I'm still waiting for you to get back to me. I said Hi. Your move. But now I'm desperate. I simply cannot stop fidgeting with things around me. Checking my cell for your text every 5 minutes. And that's while it's on full ring volume. Imagine what I do when it is on silent mode.
It's like I'm standing at a crossroads. All of these lead to different places. But I'm still ready to pick any road that leads to you. "Two roads diverged in the woods", goes the poem. And I want to take the one that leads to you.
Again, another one by Frost:
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
All of this, just so that, I can reach a place, where I can see you, meet you, touch you. Explain to you that nothing else is important to me. It's like this monster inside of me. It growls every time you say another man's name. It purrs when you tell me that you miss me. That you miss chatting and talking to me. I know it's me you are looking for.
I wonder where you are right now, and I'm wondering what you're doing right now. I'm still waiting for your message, by the way. It's late. Really late.
"The last time you were a free man, the Brooklyn Dodgers were still the Brooklyn Dodgers, and Eisenhower was your President." (Just had to bring this in).
I'm still waiting.
Friday, September 24, 2010
To Be With You Again.
Water turns to ice,
And melts back again,
Seasons have gone now
Since I laid my eyes on you.
But now the time arrives
Of the triumph,
Of heart, and soul,
And true love and sacrifice.
I'm glad we're still here
Untouched.
Unaffected.
Uncompromising.
I've prayed hard for this moment
To come, and take me
To your arms
Awaiting my embrace.
The look in your eyes,
The warmth of your touch,
The feel of the tenderness
Of your lips on mine.
Suddenly all the distances disappear
And disintegrate
Into stupid notions
And cried-over silly things.
My heart cries out
Unrestrained, savagely even
In the joy of my returning
To the tenderness of your bosom.
That feeling
That now encompasses me
Is like a cocoon
Around me.
I feel indestructible,
I'm in your safe hands now,
Like standing with you
In the middle of a tornado.
Everything around me is now a blur
Of motion and images
And mixed feelings
And tears.
And I care not
For a thing in the world,
As long as you hold me tight
In your arms
And promise to never let me go ever again.
- Vinaykrishnan
(HELLO, Thanks for the idea. Although I still haven't justice to your words) :)
And melts back again,
Seasons have gone now
Since I laid my eyes on you.
But now the time arrives
Of the triumph,
Of heart, and soul,
And true love and sacrifice.
I'm glad we're still here
Untouched.
Unaffected.
Uncompromising.
I've prayed hard for this moment
To come, and take me
To your arms
Awaiting my embrace.
The look in your eyes,
The warmth of your touch,
The feel of the tenderness
Of your lips on mine.
Suddenly all the distances disappear
And disintegrate
Into stupid notions
And cried-over silly things.
My heart cries out
Unrestrained, savagely even
In the joy of my returning
To the tenderness of your bosom.
That feeling
That now encompasses me
Is like a cocoon
Around me.
I feel indestructible,
I'm in your safe hands now,
Like standing with you
In the middle of a tornado.
Everything around me is now a blur
Of motion and images
And mixed feelings
And tears.
And I care not
For a thing in the world,
As long as you hold me tight
In your arms
And promise to never let me go ever again.
- Vinaykrishnan
(HELLO, Thanks for the idea. Although I still haven't justice to your words) :)
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Where are you?
(Aawaaz de, kahaan hai)
Shout out,
Where are you?
My world is youthful.
Alive and free
In my heart
Is the world of
Hope.
The night goes
Like the moonlight
Fades away.
Now I walk
In the shadows,
To the train of stars.
In such a place,
Where are you?
Shout out,
Where are you?
On fate,
Why is the ink
Of night blotting?
My sleep is gone,
Witnessing are the stars.
I'm devastated here,
Where are you prospering?
The sky is relentless,
My world is youthful
Shout out,
Where are you?
- Vinaykrishnan.
Shout out,
Where are you?
My world is youthful.
Alive and free
In my heart
Is the world of
Hope.
The night goes
Like the moonlight
Fades away.
Now I walk
In the shadows,
To the train of stars.
In such a place,
Where are you?
Shout out,
Where are you?
On fate,
Why is the ink
Of night blotting?
My sleep is gone,
Witnessing are the stars.
I'm devastated here,
Where are you prospering?
The sky is relentless,
My world is youthful
Shout out,
Where are you?
- Vinaykrishnan.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Come On Over.
(To Phir Aao)
I'm here,
Tease me,
Come on over,
Make me cry.
My mind becomes a cloud
And my eyes start pouring,
My sighs go so high,
Like hurricanes.
Take away your sorrows
All that you burdened on me.
Or else tell me
How to bear them.
Now from this place
I have to go away,
The roads that lead to my love,
I need to find them.
I'm here,
Tease me,
Come on over,
Make me cry.
- Vinaykrishnan.
I'm here,
Tease me,
Come on over,
Make me cry.
My mind becomes a cloud
And my eyes start pouring,
My sighs go so high,
Like hurricanes.
Take away your sorrows
All that you burdened on me.
Or else tell me
How to bear them.
Now from this place
I have to go away,
The roads that lead to my love,
I need to find them.
I'm here,
Tease me,
Come on over,
Make me cry.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Real Men Cry
It's the kind of shit that I've been dealing with
The kind that lays down on me, it bears down on me,
The life inside cried out loud, but I choose not to
Hear its screams, its voices, its pleas, its cries.
It dies out in a torrent of violence, and pressure
And everybody here can think that they can relate to me
And you think that you can dictate to me,
But let me tell you now, no use here, not now,
From a fortune. To crashing and burning on the streets.
I couldn't, I wouldn't, I refused, I denied.
The push came to pull, the juice not worth the squeeze,
I realised my fault, my bad, I'm really sad
That I believed that all are Supermans, Supermen, SuperCrazy,
But fuck it ain't. Not a chance. I maybe. They aren't.
I still had the audacity to go on churning out
Song on song, word on word, lie on lie, pain on pain
I cried. Loud. In a small 10 by 8. On my haunches.
Tears flowed. To remember what I once heard as a kid,
Real men cry.
- Vinaykrishnan.
The kind that lays down on me, it bears down on me,
The life inside cried out loud, but I choose not to
Hear its screams, its voices, its pleas, its cries.
It dies out in a torrent of violence, and pressure
And everybody here can think that they can relate to me
And you think that you can dictate to me,
But let me tell you now, no use here, not now,
From a fortune. To crashing and burning on the streets.
I couldn't, I wouldn't, I refused, I denied.
The push came to pull, the juice not worth the squeeze,
I realised my fault, my bad, I'm really sad
That I believed that all are Supermans, Supermen, SuperCrazy,
But fuck it ain't. Not a chance. I maybe. They aren't.
I still had the audacity to go on churning out
Song on song, word on word, lie on lie, pain on pain
I cried. Loud. In a small 10 by 8. On my haunches.
Tears flowed. To remember what I once heard as a kid,
Real men cry.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Where the heart rejoices...
(Aao Huzoor Tumko)
Come, O Darling,
I'll take you
To the stars;
Where the heart rejoices
Such places I shall take you...
My wayfarer,
My companion,
Be mine.
I'll take you
To the blinding gazes
Of love.
Where the heart rejoices
Such places I shall take you...
Please write
On the book of my heart
Such that not even
The seven heavens
Can write.
In my embrace,
In your embrace,
Lies the true heaven.
Where the heart rejoices
Such places I shall take you...
- Vinaykrishnan.
Come, O Darling,
I'll take you
To the stars;
Where the heart rejoices
Such places I shall take you...
My wayfarer,
My companion,
Be mine.
I'll take you
To the blinding gazes
Of love.
Where the heart rejoices
Such places I shall take you...
Please write
On the book of my heart
Such that not even
The seven heavens
Can write.
In my embrace,
In your embrace,
Lies the true heaven.
Where the heart rejoices
Such places I shall take you...
- Vinaykrishnan.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
What makes the world go round.
I'd believed
To chide, to scold,
To make people understand,
That not love,
But anger
Makes the world go round.
And one day,
Metamorphosis.
I see.
There
By the lake,
Under the moonlight sparkling,
A man
And a woman
Entwined.
Hands in hand,
Eyes on eyes,
Epitome of devotion.
Love, incarnate
The figure worth the thousand words,
All encompassing.
Love,
Passion,
Startlingly so.
Grandiose articulation
Verbosity
Not required.
The bodies
Saying it all.
Without Speech.
Like music.
That breaker
Of all barriers.
Love it is,
Unfailing,
Unending.
Undoubtedly.
Unabashedly.
Unequivocally.
And all I can think
Is that
Love makes the world go round.
- Vinaykrishnan.
To chide, to scold,
To make people understand,
That not love,
But anger
Makes the world go round.
And one day,
Metamorphosis.
I see.
There
By the lake,
Under the moonlight sparkling,
A man
And a woman
Entwined.
Hands in hand,
Eyes on eyes,
Epitome of devotion.
Love, incarnate
The figure worth the thousand words,
All encompassing.
Love,
Passion,
Startlingly so.
Grandiose articulation
Verbosity
Not required.
The bodies
Saying it all.
Without Speech.
Like music.
That breaker
Of all barriers.
Love it is,
Unfailing,
Unending.
Undoubtedly.
Unabashedly.
Unequivocally.
And all I can think
Is that
Love makes the world go round.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Choices
To be condemned
To know that I have no other option
That I can choose nothing else,
Is the worst.
I wonder,
If I were given this choice
When I was raw
Would I have survived?
If I had known
That it would be 11 years
Would it have been easier,
Or tougher?
- Vinaykrishnan.
To know that I have no other option
That I can choose nothing else,
Is the worst.
I wonder,
If I were given this choice
When I was raw
Would I have survived?
If I had known
That it would be 11 years
Would it have been easier,
Or tougher?
- Vinaykrishnan.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Unspoken Words
Unspoken words
Like the sparks of a blazing fire,
Never the center of attraction
Yet always the most amazing.
Unspoken words
Like the roots of a banyan,
Never the major force
Yet always the most supportive.
Unspoken words
Like the fraying edges of a book,
Never the highlight
Yet always the most intriguing.
Unspoken words
Like the the fledgling light of the sunset,
Never the brightest
Yet always the most brilliant.
Unspoken words
Like the hopes of a lover,
Never the most outspoken
Yet always the truest.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Like the sparks of a blazing fire,
Never the center of attraction
Yet always the most amazing.
Unspoken words
Like the roots of a banyan,
Never the major force
Yet always the most supportive.
Unspoken words
Like the fraying edges of a book,
Never the highlight
Yet always the most intriguing.
Unspoken words
Like the the fledgling light of the sunset,
Never the brightest
Yet always the most brilliant.
Unspoken words
Like the hopes of a lover,
Never the most outspoken
Yet always the truest.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Miracles
I stand here
Watching you,
You are the life
Of the people around you,
But you know what,
Maybe no one knows you
Like I do.
Maybe it's just
The miracle
That I'm waiting for.
Maybe it's just
The miracle that
Won't happen.
Maybe it's just
The miracle
That you are waiting for.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Watching you,
You are the life
Of the people around you,
But you know what,
Maybe no one knows you
Like I do.
Maybe it's just
The miracle
That I'm waiting for.
Maybe it's just
The miracle that
Won't happen.
Maybe it's just
The miracle
That you are waiting for.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Monday, August 16, 2010
I'm. She's.
I'm flying now
Through the skies
So blue and calm,
I have the wind on my back,
I'm Clarke,
She's Lois.
Still flying,
High, in the skies,
And otherwise.
I love my cap,
I'm Hancock,
She's Mary.
I'm still running
Coz I can't stop,
You tell me to "Run!"
So I don't stop,
I'm Forrest,
She's Jenny.
I'm still standing here
Still and steady
Like a rock,
And you see me,
I'm Me,
She's You.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Through the skies
So blue and calm,
I have the wind on my back,
I'm Clarke,
She's Lois.
Still flying,
High, in the skies,
And otherwise.
I love my cap,
I'm Hancock,
She's Mary.
I'm still running
Coz I can't stop,
You tell me to "Run!"
So I don't stop,
I'm Forrest,
She's Jenny.
I'm still standing here
Still and steady
Like a rock,
And you see me,
I'm Me,
She's You.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Your Silence
I only wish it were easy
To say what I feel,
But sometimes,
The freedom to express
Is more cruel than
The slavery of silence.
And although I have said all I wanted to,
I feel no better.
It's like a nail
Being hammered at my insides.
I'd rather listen to what you say
Than speak.
Please don't be so silent,
Nor inexpressive so.
I'm here only
To absorb you
And your thoughts.
- Vinaykrishnan.
To say what I feel,
But sometimes,
The freedom to express
Is more cruel than
The slavery of silence.
And although I have said all I wanted to,
I feel no better.
It's like a nail
Being hammered at my insides.
I'd rather listen to what you say
Than speak.
Please don't be so silent,
Nor inexpressive so.
I'm here only
To absorb you
And your thoughts.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Hollow Stones
So I'm walking down this street off the main road. It's cobbled, and with a lot of horse dung. Perdition Street, they call it. Funny how people think of such names for streets where they live, when that's the last place they are looking to go to.
I have to pick up this package tonight. The rest of my workers are busy elsewhere. I like it though. Brings my old job memories back wherein I personally used to pickup all the packages. Nostalgic, of times very very old.
My walking stick makes funny noises on the stones of the street. More of a "Top, Top" that a "Tap, Tap" as you would normally expect. Hollow stones? Possible. Geology was never my subject. I'm more into philosophy. Although not many would agree with what I think and believe.
The house where I need to pick up the parcel is an old cottage, set with bright burning fires in the windows. The curtains are drawn back. The light of the hearth shines brightly onto the street, illuminating the path leading from the gate to the house. I like fire. I think it's one of the purest things that man has ever learned to use, and yet has never been able to command it.
I walk up to the front door, it is open for me. I enter, walk to the small crowd of people around a couch on the rug in front of the hearth. An old man, wheezing heavily, barely able to open his eyes, sits on the couch, covered in a heavy blanket, the weight of which is further restricting his breathing. But he prefers the warmth to ease in breath. His time is at an end.
I put my hand to his brow, and he looks up. Only he looks into my eyes, and he smiles. That is a smile of a man who has lived his life well. He has nothing to be regretful of. He has lived a life full of joy, love, caring, happiness and charity. I smile back at him. I slowly help him up to his feet, as he holds my hand, and I carry him supporting his arm around my shoulder. And I carry him out the door, out on to the street, where my walking stick starts Top-Topping again on the hollow stones.
My carriage is at the end of the street. I help him up the steps into the carriage. I take the driver's seat, and I drive away with him in the coach behind me.
I stop at the gates. I lead the old man to the chubby gatekeeper. The gatekeeper is surprised, and draws his eyebrows so far up that you'd think they'd hit the sky.
"This one is yours. I have no right." I say. And I help the old man hold the gatekeeper's hands. I walk away, my stick now a trident, this time Tap-Tapping on the path. My tail swishes behind me, and my throne waits for me.
Despite what you think, I was, am, and always in my heart, will be, an Angel of Light.
I have to pick up this package tonight. The rest of my workers are busy elsewhere. I like it though. Brings my old job memories back wherein I personally used to pickup all the packages. Nostalgic, of times very very old.
My walking stick makes funny noises on the stones of the street. More of a "Top, Top" that a "Tap, Tap" as you would normally expect. Hollow stones? Possible. Geology was never my subject. I'm more into philosophy. Although not many would agree with what I think and believe.
The house where I need to pick up the parcel is an old cottage, set with bright burning fires in the windows. The curtains are drawn back. The light of the hearth shines brightly onto the street, illuminating the path leading from the gate to the house. I like fire. I think it's one of the purest things that man has ever learned to use, and yet has never been able to command it.
I walk up to the front door, it is open for me. I enter, walk to the small crowd of people around a couch on the rug in front of the hearth. An old man, wheezing heavily, barely able to open his eyes, sits on the couch, covered in a heavy blanket, the weight of which is further restricting his breathing. But he prefers the warmth to ease in breath. His time is at an end.
I put my hand to his brow, and he looks up. Only he looks into my eyes, and he smiles. That is a smile of a man who has lived his life well. He has nothing to be regretful of. He has lived a life full of joy, love, caring, happiness and charity. I smile back at him. I slowly help him up to his feet, as he holds my hand, and I carry him supporting his arm around my shoulder. And I carry him out the door, out on to the street, where my walking stick starts Top-Topping again on the hollow stones.
My carriage is at the end of the street. I help him up the steps into the carriage. I take the driver's seat, and I drive away with him in the coach behind me.
I stop at the gates. I lead the old man to the chubby gatekeeper. The gatekeeper is surprised, and draws his eyebrows so far up that you'd think they'd hit the sky.
"This one is yours. I have no right." I say. And I help the old man hold the gatekeeper's hands. I walk away, my stick now a trident, this time Tap-Tapping on the path. My tail swishes behind me, and my throne waits for me.
Despite what you think, I was, am, and always in my heart, will be, an Angel of Light.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
(Inspiration from a song I heard, had to turn it to this)
I was in an abyss,
Trundling down the dark,
Jagged rocks
Tearing me apart
On my way down.
I had someone though
Whose faith unshaken
Made me
Unbreakable.
My life was their gift,
Their struggles
My redemption.
My redeemers
Live.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
When you are listening...
Ask away to oblivion,
And for the pearls of attention
That your eyes give me when I answer,
I could speak for eternities…
When you are listening,
I want to be articulate.
I usually am not verbose,
Taciturn was my middle name.
But when you are listening,
I could speak until I run out of breath.
I could ramble on for eons
On things immaterial, and longer for things that matter,
I could reach an array of subjects,
I could flit from topic to topic
Like a nomad wandering from one abode to another,
And keep at it forever when you are listening
But now that reality strikes me again,
And frees me from dreaming,
I realise, that when you are listening,
I usually go speechless.
Your eyes make me feel as though
The world would break down
If I said something stupid
When you are listening.
I am only scared when talking to you
Fear of saying something foolish,
I guess, I would rather just stay shut
When you are listening.
- Vinaykrishnan.
And for the pearls of attention
That your eyes give me when I answer,
I could speak for eternities…
When you are listening,
I want to be articulate.
I usually am not verbose,
Taciturn was my middle name.
But when you are listening,
I could speak until I run out of breath.
I could ramble on for eons
On things immaterial, and longer for things that matter,
I could reach an array of subjects,
I could flit from topic to topic
Like a nomad wandering from one abode to another,
And keep at it forever when you are listening
But now that reality strikes me again,
And frees me from dreaming,
I realise, that when you are listening,
I usually go speechless.
Your eyes make me feel as though
The world would break down
If I said something stupid
When you are listening.
I am only scared when talking to you
Fear of saying something foolish,
I guess, I would rather just stay shut
When you are listening.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Hope
Like a page. Bound in a book,
I want to break free and roam,
Or float, as might be your perception,
I was filled once,
By love and words of tender caring,
To only be erased
And filled up again,
This time, though,
Not with warm affection,
But with malice and foul inflection.
It burns my soul to be captive here,
Burns like the fires of Hell,
But wait, isn’t Hell just a concept
Of evil and sorrow?
But then, I lighten up again,
Feel glad again,
Because I have in me
A small thing called Hope.
Every vice is balanced by a virtue,
And to comprehend a virtue,
Vice needs to be known,
Just like to know light,
Darkness needs comprehension.
Hope, though, is the only passion I have.
What remains now
Is whether Hope is force enough
To free me, to tear me from these shackles
And manacles that bind me,
So that I too may
Roam, float, wander,
And realize on my own
That there is a Paradise somewhere,
Where bliss and ecstasy reign absolute
And tranquility and freedom rule supreme.
- Vinaykrishnan
I want to break free and roam,
Or float, as might be your perception,
I was filled once,
By love and words of tender caring,
To only be erased
And filled up again,
This time, though,
Not with warm affection,
But with malice and foul inflection.
It burns my soul to be captive here,
Burns like the fires of Hell,
But wait, isn’t Hell just a concept
Of evil and sorrow?
But then, I lighten up again,
Feel glad again,
Because I have in me
A small thing called Hope.
Every vice is balanced by a virtue,
And to comprehend a virtue,
Vice needs to be known,
Just like to know light,
Darkness needs comprehension.
Hope, though, is the only passion I have.
What remains now
Is whether Hope is force enough
To free me, to tear me from these shackles
And manacles that bind me,
So that I too may
Roam, float, wander,
And realize on my own
That there is a Paradise somewhere,
Where bliss and ecstasy reign absolute
And tranquility and freedom rule supreme.
- Vinaykrishnan
Elements
I am divided into two elements:
One, full of perturbation and chaos;
The other, the clarity and conscience of the soul of man...
Little is my chaos interested in the outer demeanors of man,
My chaos is my own – for better or for worse.
My conscience, is however, the epitome of the virtues of the Gods,
Unending, never failing, never flailing, ever invariable.
I am not a spark of ignominy, or a flash of brilliance.
I am ignominy incarnate, and brilliance personified.
My inner beings are always at conflict,
Yet at serenity and harmony perpetual.
Conflicts rage asunder in my soul, sown with blazing discord,
Only to be quieted by my havens of enduring tranquility.
-Vinaykrishnan.
One, full of perturbation and chaos;
The other, the clarity and conscience of the soul of man...
Little is my chaos interested in the outer demeanors of man,
My chaos is my own – for better or for worse.
My conscience, is however, the epitome of the virtues of the Gods,
Unending, never failing, never flailing, ever invariable.
I am not a spark of ignominy, or a flash of brilliance.
I am ignominy incarnate, and brilliance personified.
My inner beings are always at conflict,
Yet at serenity and harmony perpetual.
Conflicts rage asunder in my soul, sown with blazing discord,
Only to be quieted by my havens of enduring tranquility.
-Vinaykrishnan.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Vengeance
I just finished watching a very different and a very touching trilogy of films. I have now reason to believe that even movies contain messages, and can capture, and reveal, the raw emotions of a person. Everything that is boiling inside underneath the skin of the person who has found reason to live, even though the reason is vengeance. Aptly named, the Vengeance Trilogy is a collection of 3 films that are unrelated to each other, but are about the same concepts of vengeance, violence, and salvation. The movies are Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Oldboy, and Sympathy for Lady Vengeance. The director, Park Chan-Wook, has done an incredible job of portraying the protagonists' agony, fury and the violence that erupts as a result of years of pent-up thoughts of vengeance. Choi Min Sik has played amazing roles in two of the three movies, especially in Oldboy.
Some of the lines from the movies that really shook me up, leaving me bruised and battered.
- Even though I'm no better than a beast, don't I have the right to live?
- Whether it be a grain of sand or a rock, in water they both sink alike.
- Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone.
- There is an angel inside us. This angel inside us needs to be invoked by way of prayer. I realized this in prison. When I got free, and was on the outside, to this thought I said, "Fuck you."
- After I have killed this man, I shall take you back to Australia. I am too big a sinner to be called Mother by you.
- If I had known then, that it would be fifteen years, would it have been easier? Or would it have been harder?
Awesome movies. Worth the six hours, every last second of it.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Life
Life toys with us daily. It starts with our education, the tender beginnings of an apparently wholesome life. How much have we learnt from other's experiences? How much have we learnt from the books that we are given almost as inheritance? How much have we learnt from life, and how much by ourselves? We caught life by the scruff of the neck, sometimes even compromising by latching on to the lessons from failure. We blew the balloons of dreams, and even fought to get to the surface sometimes. We tried our best to get things working with false means, but yet lauded the true means that got us to the end. We tailored the topsy paths to meet our goals. Never did we step back in fear, never lost our focus. We tattooed our small joys on our fingers, we helped pals with outstretched arms, and we accepted life on its terms. What all have we achieved through our guile? How much have we learnt from life, and how much by ourselves?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Lonely.
I see the rough, hewn stones that make up the street that lines up to the tavern up ahead. My feet trace their path there every evening after work. Their ale is the strongest. I need it so that I black out, and can move out of this innate tedium of frustration and loneliness. Work, eat, drink, pass out, wake, work, eat, drink, pass out. It does get boring after a while. The worst is that the only part that is not boring, is the shortest, and is unconsciously spent. I only wish I can inject some life into my pathetic excuse for one.
But it's not just something to do. It is more to do with someone to be with. I realise that I started going to the tavern religiously only when I started hating going home to no one. To an empty kitchen, and an unmade bed. To a place with no laughter, or intelligence, or joy, or company. I'd rather drown in noise and ale and in the throngs of unknown faces, than spend even a single moment alone staring up at the cracks in the ceiling or the spider weaving its web patiently near the corner.
It's a shame really. The whole wide world out there to explore and have fun, and yet I'm dreary and alone and miserable. When I was younger, I used to dream, and I had decided that I would never ever simply lose it and never ever give up on life.
I guess, that's just how it turned out for me.
- Vinaykrishnan
But it's not just something to do. It is more to do with someone to be with. I realise that I started going to the tavern religiously only when I started hating going home to no one. To an empty kitchen, and an unmade bed. To a place with no laughter, or intelligence, or joy, or company. I'd rather drown in noise and ale and in the throngs of unknown faces, than spend even a single moment alone staring up at the cracks in the ceiling or the spider weaving its web patiently near the corner.
It's a shame really. The whole wide world out there to explore and have fun, and yet I'm dreary and alone and miserable. When I was younger, I used to dream, and I had decided that I would never ever simply lose it and never ever give up on life.
I guess, that's just how it turned out for me.
- Vinaykrishnan
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
You.
I can feel the whorls of your fingertips that glide over my chest, stopping at random points, like an overture to an orchestra. My heart beats faster when you cuddle up closer and whisper sensuous nothings into my ear, and i can feel your lips next to my face. Your breath, coming in prurient gasps, is a melody to my senses, and it impels me to hold you tighter to me. I cannot resist the intensity of your gaze, that does not for a moment stray from me, or the way your legs lock around me, entangling and ensnaring me in your web of amorous avidity. The way your moist, warm skin, brushes against mine, titillating me in every possible manner, is something I can not even put to words. How your stomach that flutters at each touch of my hands, the navel jiving to a feverish rhythm, can simply freeze time. The standstill, the profoundness of the moment before we kiss is something that I can only treasure and pray for. The way your lips touch me and pique my senses to make me want more is inexplicable. I do all I can to resist this frenzy. But I get swept away, to a place that makes no sense at all, and yet everything is lucid and perfect. The yen for owning you, and possessing you, and being one with your body is so fierce, it shocks me to my core. It's like taking that first breathe of air that fills your lung with racking pain, when you emerge from within an icy cold lake of water. But I would brave a thousand such pangs of pain, a million in fact, if it brings me but one moment of pure joy and love with you. You are the only feeling I have. You are the only motion I desire. You are the only repose I need.
You.
- Vinaykrishnan.
You.
- Vinaykrishnan.
Monday, July 5, 2010
I just don't think I'll ever get over you.
I sit here by the window, looking outside the glass. Raindrops splattering the pane, and then dripping and slipping away to the hedges below keep me rivetted. Sub-consciously I stir the coffee in a mug in my hands. The coffee is something special, comes from Brazil. But it doesn't taste near good enough like the way it did when you made it for me. I gulp it down, its no longer hot. I feel like talking now, but I have less to say without you here. I wish you were here.
This place is getting cold now, especially without you here. The mellifluous sounds of your laughter still echo here, ringing in my ears. Remnants of the past, your face, your touch, your kiss, your love, all keep haunting me even after all these years.
I have stopped drinking now. The drink only makes me sullen. But I don't want you to think I'm unhappy, or that I'm too lonely. I'm pretty happy, I get invited to dinners still. I'm happy. And yet I cannot bide a single moment away withoput thinking of you, and your brown hair cascading over your shoulders when you bend down to kiss me on my forehead. I guess, even if I live to see myself become an old man, unable to eat his own food, or climb the stairs in my home, I just don't think I'll ever get over you.
(Idea courtesy: Colin Hay)
This place is getting cold now, especially without you here. The mellifluous sounds of your laughter still echo here, ringing in my ears. Remnants of the past, your face, your touch, your kiss, your love, all keep haunting me even after all these years.
I have stopped drinking now. The drink only makes me sullen. But I don't want you to think I'm unhappy, or that I'm too lonely. I'm pretty happy, I get invited to dinners still. I'm happy. And yet I cannot bide a single moment away withoput thinking of you, and your brown hair cascading over your shoulders when you bend down to kiss me on my forehead. I guess, even if I live to see myself become an old man, unable to eat his own food, or climb the stairs in my home, I just don't think I'll ever get over you.
(Idea courtesy: Colin Hay)
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Theft
I just read this off the internet:
Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from - it’s where you take them to.” – Jim Jarmusch
Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from - it’s where you take them to.” – Jim Jarmusch
Thursday, June 24, 2010
At Random Does My Mind.
At random does my mind jump, from one thought to another,
Vivid in their clarity, distinct in their individuality,
Separated by a common theme, yet unified in their differences,
Like patches of kelp in a sea, or like drops of water on windshields,
Scattered, yet at large in the grand scheme, playing,
Roaming, loitering, exploring, enduring, exhaustive, redemptive,
Like links, that form a chain, singularly negligible,
Yet with strength to capture and bind the senses.
At random does my mind wander, from darkness to light,
Never defeated, like a candle that is not dead,
Even though being overpowered by all the darkness around,
Yet losing to, and against, itself, will stronger not than vice,
Like symbiosis turning evil, without dread or device,
No more the strength in the host that lies can bide away
Yet stronger to survive, though parasitic its guest,
Eaten away in its own large-heartedness.
At random does my mind float, from starvation to suffice,
Throngs of thoughts whirling about like the wind,
Yet stable and yet cruel, though simpler may it seem,
That the mind can rest at the soul's rise.
- Vinaykrishnan.
================================
Vivid in their clarity, distinct in their individuality,
Separated by a common theme, yet unified in their differences,
Like patches of kelp in a sea, or like drops of water on windshields,
Scattered, yet at large in the grand scheme, playing,
Roaming, loitering, exploring, enduring, exhaustive, redemptive,
Like links, that form a chain, singularly negligible,
Yet with strength to capture and bind the senses.
At random does my mind wander, from darkness to light,
Never defeated, like a candle that is not dead,
Even though being overpowered by all the darkness around,
Yet losing to, and against, itself, will stronger not than vice,
Like symbiosis turning evil, without dread or device,
No more the strength in the host that lies can bide away
Yet stronger to survive, though parasitic its guest,
Eaten away in its own large-heartedness.
At random does my mind float, from starvation to suffice,
Throngs of thoughts whirling about like the wind,
Yet stable and yet cruel, though simpler may it seem,
That the mind can rest at the soul's rise.
- Vinaykrishnan.
================================
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Musings of Restraint
So there's this girl I am in love with. In the sense that, not in real "love" as the wise old men put it, but as in something above the usual. Earlier, I just used to think that she is a brat, a spoilt one, at that. I used to think she's a small kid, all stupid and immature. But now I realise, this is not the case. She is mature where required, and childlike in other things. I still think of her as a kid, and I call her that to her face, and she probably enjoys it a lot too. But there is something I have learnt from this girl. It's to always be happy. Not a moment passes by when she regrets anything she has done, and as she so wisely puts it (which amazes me, as she can be wise beyond her years sometimes) "Atleast when I look back to my life, I have the knowledge that it is only my decisions whose outcomes I now face."
But I never think I can tell her that I am falling... no, not falling, but rising in love with her. Every time I finish a conversation with her, I feel as if I have grown; as an individual, as a person, as a man. But I can never express what is in my heart for her. It would only be too weird, and I do not wish to end a relationship with her, even be it only of friendship, that my heart worships. I wish I could be the ink of love on the pages of her life, but I'm only too happy to settle to be the margins of the pages. Someone once said that "Only if you cast yourself in the seas would you be able to cross them." He must never have had the chance to fall in love with a person whom he did not want to lose as a friend. I'd rather just go on being a friend to her, than telling her that I love her, and then lose her to her denial. I know, most people would say that this is normal, and a lot of people on earth never express their feelings because of fear of rejection. And I agree with them; the thought of losing her is the sword that hangs heavier over my head, than the joy that I would gain on knowing that she too would reciprocate the feelings that I have for her. Life would once again stop dead in its tracks if she ever feels that I have betrayed her friendship, or what I feel, is her respect for me.
And while I may fancy and fantasize that all that she speaks to me about, and all that we laugh about, is from her heart, and that she values my company, I may be wrong. I mean, I barely know her. We've never talked before on friendly terms and we were almost non-existant for each other. Only recently have we become accquainted in a more casual manner. She may very well be only humouring me by being friendly and nice and so good to talk to. Probably the only reason she does so is because I'm good friends with her good friends and maybe she was told by them to not fight with me or not avoid me. Not that I am a bad person really. Just that sometimes, I do rub people the wrong way with what I do, or sometimes, what I do not. Or maybe, she's like that not just with me, but with everyone else. Warm, caring, friendly, funny, jovial and always happy. But I'm just too dumb to not fall for her.
But that's that, and life does go on, and in some way, I guess, it's best that I do not tell her. Maybe all things in life are not meant to be had, and to wish for something that is not, may lead to a spill, that I'd fare better by avoidance than indulgence.
==================================================
But I never think I can tell her that I am falling... no, not falling, but rising in love with her. Every time I finish a conversation with her, I feel as if I have grown; as an individual, as a person, as a man. But I can never express what is in my heart for her. It would only be too weird, and I do not wish to end a relationship with her, even be it only of friendship, that my heart worships. I wish I could be the ink of love on the pages of her life, but I'm only too happy to settle to be the margins of the pages. Someone once said that "Only if you cast yourself in the seas would you be able to cross them." He must never have had the chance to fall in love with a person whom he did not want to lose as a friend. I'd rather just go on being a friend to her, than telling her that I love her, and then lose her to her denial. I know, most people would say that this is normal, and a lot of people on earth never express their feelings because of fear of rejection. And I agree with them; the thought of losing her is the sword that hangs heavier over my head, than the joy that I would gain on knowing that she too would reciprocate the feelings that I have for her. Life would once again stop dead in its tracks if she ever feels that I have betrayed her friendship, or what I feel, is her respect for me.
And while I may fancy and fantasize that all that she speaks to me about, and all that we laugh about, is from her heart, and that she values my company, I may be wrong. I mean, I barely know her. We've never talked before on friendly terms and we were almost non-existant for each other. Only recently have we become accquainted in a more casual manner. She may very well be only humouring me by being friendly and nice and so good to talk to. Probably the only reason she does so is because I'm good friends with her good friends and maybe she was told by them to not fight with me or not avoid me. Not that I am a bad person really. Just that sometimes, I do rub people the wrong way with what I do, or sometimes, what I do not. Or maybe, she's like that not just with me, but with everyone else. Warm, caring, friendly, funny, jovial and always happy. But I'm just too dumb to not fall for her.
But that's that, and life does go on, and in some way, I guess, it's best that I do not tell her. Maybe all things in life are not meant to be had, and to wish for something that is not, may lead to a spill, that I'd fare better by avoidance than indulgence.
==================================================
Joy.
And now I fly on the horizons where the sky touches the sea,
And the twilight touches me in a way, akin to how
The soft moonbeams fall on my cheeks and lighten my soul and senses,
My heavy brow now feels light, and I soar to heights hitherto unachieved.
If only to be glad is so easily achievable, I wondered till yet,
But sought only the higher, intangible joys.
Little did I realize the little joys that one finds
In the littlest corners of the littlest places are the ones that yet allow for flight,
To places where not only the heart rejoices,
But to elation even the mind surrenders.
- Vinaykrishnan
Monday, June 14, 2010
Bonded in Ink.
I got inked yesterday. A barbed wire in black outline, with alternating spikes of 2 or 3, encircling my right wrist.
I heard a lot of shit from a lot of people today. Why did you do it, it's useless, its ugly, waste of money, et al. I was depressed really. Not that I wanted my tattoo to create a furore, but I mean, for crying out loud! Give me some good statement about this, people! But no, it went on and on.
Then I remembered why I actually did it. 2 major reasons. a. I always wanted this tattoo, representing my imprisonment. I'm always bonded. b. One of my best friends and I decided to do it on the spur of the moment. Absolutely unplanned, totally spontaneous. And we enjoyed it. We had the time of our lives yesterday, and we just moved one step further from being friends, to brothers-in-blood.
Most of you may think, yeah, whatever. But here's the thing, this is something I have enjoyed thoroughly, it was an experience of a lifetime, and I enjoyed it with probably the one person I could have ever opted for.
Cheers mate!
I heard a lot of shit from a lot of people today. Why did you do it, it's useless, its ugly, waste of money, et al. I was depressed really. Not that I wanted my tattoo to create a furore, but I mean, for crying out loud! Give me some good statement about this, people! But no, it went on and on.
Then I remembered why I actually did it. 2 major reasons. a. I always wanted this tattoo, representing my imprisonment. I'm always bonded. b. One of my best friends and I decided to do it on the spur of the moment. Absolutely unplanned, totally spontaneous. And we enjoyed it. We had the time of our lives yesterday, and we just moved one step further from being friends, to brothers-in-blood.
Most of you may think, yeah, whatever. But here's the thing, this is something I have enjoyed thoroughly, it was an experience of a lifetime, and I enjoyed it with probably the one person I could have ever opted for.
Cheers mate!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
An ode to Anita (almost)
i remember my sister singing "dil hai chhota sa., chhoti si aasha.."... and for all the crap that i was at that time, i remember telling my pals, "ahh... she's okay... not so good.."....
today i heard the song on the radio... and i heard my sister singing to me... and i could actually see her, and she was singing into the microphone and looking at me while singing. i heard no cacophony.
i bet today, that if there is anyone on earth who can sing that better than Anita, i'll do anything.... anything at all... (that includes stripping and running on the streets of chandigarh!!!)
chechi, i love you, you are amazing!!! (not just at singing, but at a gazillion other things as well) :)
today i heard the song on the radio... and i heard my sister singing to me... and i could actually see her, and she was singing into the microphone and looking at me while singing. i heard no cacophony.
i bet today, that if there is anyone on earth who can sing that better than Anita, i'll do anything.... anything at all... (that includes stripping and running on the streets of chandigarh!!!)
chechi, i love you, you are amazing!!! (not just at singing, but at a gazillion other things as well) :)
Friday, May 28, 2010
Why "How I Met Your Mother" is better than "F.R.I.E.N.D.S"
5 Major Reasons
1. Friends is a story of people who never took school seriously, except maybe Ross. HIMYM is a story of professionals. You have a lawyer, an architect, a television presenter, etc.
2. Friends characters do not booze, they go to Central Perk. HIMYM characters go to Maclaren's pub and hate coffee shops.
3. You can love a couple of characters or Friends, maybe 3. But not all. I mean, come on, Monica and Rachel are annoying! But in HIMYM, one falls in love with all the moajor protagonists.
4. Phoebe's Cat song is awful and is not funny.
5. Barney Stinson is God.
Overall Ratings: Friends - 7/10. HIMYM - 10/10.
1. Friends is a story of people who never took school seriously, except maybe Ross. HIMYM is a story of professionals. You have a lawyer, an architect, a television presenter, etc.
2. Friends characters do not booze, they go to Central Perk. HIMYM characters go to Maclaren's pub and hate coffee shops.
3. You can love a couple of characters or Friends, maybe 3. But not all. I mean, come on, Monica and Rachel are annoying! But in HIMYM, one falls in love with all the moajor protagonists.
4. Phoebe's Cat song is awful and is not funny.
5. Barney Stinson is God.
Overall Ratings: Friends - 7/10. HIMYM - 10/10.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
May the Force be with you.
I just saw the whole of the Star Wars series again. A marathon of 6 movies. And I have only one word for it. AMAZING!!!!
I am such a fan of 4 people from it:
1. Obi Van Kenobi: The epitome, paradigm of righteousness, the ultimate sample of goodness.
2. Han Solo: Courage personified.
3. Darth Vader: Villain to the core.
4. Anakin Skywalker: The man who attained redemption.
Amazing!!! Only Amazing! :) :) :)
Vinay.
I am such a fan of 4 people from it:
1. Obi Van Kenobi: The epitome, paradigm of righteousness, the ultimate sample of goodness.
2. Han Solo: Courage personified.
3. Darth Vader: Villain to the core.
4. Anakin Skywalker: The man who attained redemption.
Amazing!!! Only Amazing! :) :) :)
Vinay.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Krishna
From all the grandiose articulation and verbose sentences I can create,
None makes more sense than the time when I raise my head to the sky,
And speak out in fervour and hope, of love and belonging and faith,
Absorbing pain in your name is now a game for me, I am enthralled and enraptured now,
Like a river being assimilated by the sea, like Neelkanth ingesting Vish,
I am yours now, and forever, What is this you have done to me?
Living and then dying would have been so much simpler
Than your entry in my life, and my being a prisoner to your will and demands,
But now here I am, all I live for is your joy, your desires, your will,
Your touch on me is like that of the banyan's shadow on a traveller in the hot sun,
I have no existence save that what you deem upon me.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Where am I going?
Right now, my life all about deadlines, productivity, people management, experience, money, analysis, project plans, development, quality assurance, agile, scrum, websites, taking shit, giving shit, et al. Only software engineering rules my life. Exaggerating, hiding facts, portraying incorrect statistics, bitching, being dishonest all in all - that's what I am doing. I cannot believe that integrity and honesty used to be my biggest strengths in my work-life. Whatever happened to my ethics? Whatever happened to my moralities? Whatever happened to my quest, thirst, drive for knowledge? And not knowledge about how to have shit thrown over me and still smile about it, but knowledge for other things... like the stars, the sun, the earth, atoms, molecules, fluids, places, ancient wars, Greek mythology, Roman mythology, books, authors, music, rock music, films, economics, light rays, scalars, vectors, trigonometry, road construction, asphalt, games, PC games, plants, trees, animals, birds, fishes, sharks, coral reefs, Australia, the Eiffel Tower, the Taj Mahal, telephones, radio, guitars, drums.... (the list is endless)...
Why am I caught in the web of the lure for money? Do I need to give up on everything I am interested in, or I want to believe in?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Today, I realize that...
I love writing, wherein,
I start from "Today, I realize that..."...
But today, I find that,
I do not ultimately realize anything,
My life is all just a game,
Of the roll of the dice,
Once a six, once not even a one,
I wish I could live life in a way
That would astonish people
And want them to admire me,
Say "What a man!",
But here I am, still here,
Not much achieved, even less gained,
This life has not turned out
The roll I wanted it to be.
But I am glad.
I know some people
Who would gladly lay down their lives for me,
Some who would grudgingly, :-)
(I don't even know if a smiley is allowed in a poem)
And I know some,
For whom I would lay down my life.
Not some, but many.
And so I go on singing,
In hope, in love, in faith,
That someday I shall be able to look back
Upon my life, and say that,
"Yes, today I realize that..."
I start from "Today, I realize that..."...
But today, I find that,
I do not ultimately realize anything,
My life is all just a game,
Of the roll of the dice,
Once a six, once not even a one,
I wish I could live life in a way
That would astonish people
And want them to admire me,
Say "What a man!",
But here I am, still here,
Not much achieved, even less gained,
This life has not turned out
The roll I wanted it to be.
But I am glad.
I know some people
Who would gladly lay down their lives for me,
Some who would grudgingly, :-)
(I don't even know if a smiley is allowed in a poem)
And I know some,
For whom I would lay down my life.
Not some, but many.
And so I go on singing,
In hope, in love, in faith,
That someday I shall be able to look back
Upon my life, and say that,
"Yes, today I realize that..."
Monday, March 1, 2010
Thai Insurance Commercials
I was going through some commercials on Youtube. I reached a segment of some commercials for an insurance company of Thailand, called Thai Insurance. These have to be the most touching and most emotional advertisement commercials that I have ever seen. They are all very predictable, but the way the commercials have been picturised would make almost everyone cry. (All of these, being Thai, have subtitles which add to the experience really.)
1. A woman goes to the doctor to have a premature delivery done. The only reason she gives is "We're running out of time." Very intense, and very sentimental. Tears shouldn't surprise me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpf2hsZGsJM&feature=player_embedded
2. A father speaks about how and why he wants more time. Great camerawork and effects, very touching.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvYb4BLIAQw&feature=related
3. A woman suffers from Leukemia and dumps her boyfriend. Very very sad, but very beautifully captured.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgaHwaG055I&feature=related
4. A father makes a promise to always care for his daughter. She gets pregnant though. How the father reacts is what makes this an amazingly good commercial.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkoRDFjBh44&feature=related
5. Aan old woman, an ex-pianist, loses the motion of her right hand and so cannot play the piano. She has a nurse who has been learning the piano for 5 years of her own. Beautiful!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rU44zfNxg20&feature=related
Each of these commercials brings with it many emotions. All of them, though sad, convey a very haunting message to the viewer.
Good work, Thai Insurance.
1. A woman goes to the doctor to have a premature delivery done. The only reason she gives is "We're running out of time." Very intense, and very sentimental. Tears shouldn't surprise me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpf2hsZGsJM&feature=player_embedded
2. A father speaks about how and why he wants more time. Great camerawork and effects, very touching.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvYb4BLIAQw&feature=related
3. A woman suffers from Leukemia and dumps her boyfriend. Very very sad, but very beautifully captured.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgaHwaG055I&feature=related
4. A father makes a promise to always care for his daughter. She gets pregnant though. How the father reacts is what makes this an amazingly good commercial.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkoRDFjBh44&feature=related
5. Aan old woman, an ex-pianist, loses the motion of her right hand and so cannot play the piano. She has a nurse who has been learning the piano for 5 years of her own. Beautiful!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rU44zfNxg20&feature=related
Each of these commercials brings with it many emotions. All of them, though sad, convey a very haunting message to the viewer.
Good work, Thai Insurance.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Side B (short and simple)
Do you think that I am what I look like? More than meets the eyes, I live life in more splendid ways than you can imagine....
I am the side B of a cassette whose side A you haven't even heard fully...
I am the side B of a cassette whose side A you haven't even heard fully...
Another translation... beautiful song!!!!
How can I take my eyes of you... After all, I see God in you....
I have not the habit of seeing you... but your face is like the face of love itself....
Your name is the hardest thing... your worship is the hardest act....
This disease of love is unique... It cannot be cured by doctors...
I can die in front of you... You are my anaesthesia...
I cannot have enough of you... Looking at you, I can spend my entire life...
If you are not in front me, my love.... then I find it hard to survive...
Looking at your face is my religion... your worship is my God....
Your face is His form...God has not another form.....
My heart wishes to just keep on seeing you... After all, I see God in you....
After seeing your one lac styles... I give myself to you a lac lac times...
Be it a curtain or a wall... Please come and sit in front of me...
My heart wishes.... my heart wishes.... that you come and sit in front of me....
The moon of my heart... Let this poor person have the worship of his God...
Have you seen this season that has come... Please stay back, this season says...
Listen a bit to me... and say all that you have to say...
After crying, my tears have dried out... I have even stopped counting the stars now...
Your worship is the hope of my living... I cannot seem to have one moment of rest....
Please come in front of me, O innocent... Today I want to look into your eyes...
Please come as beautiful as you can... I want to be murdered by your beauty today....
Please come with your black dark hair... Bismil, we shall make Bismil again...
Forget the distances, come close... I wish to tell you my sad tales and hear the same from you...
My heart wishes to just keep on seeing you... After all, I see God in you....
Looking at your face is my religion... your worship is my God....
Bring your face in front of me... That time is the essence of worship...
In every prayer of this worship... when I open my eyes... you be in front of me....
Every time I pray.... Every time I want your face in front of me...
When, if, I open my eyes in my grave... your face should be in front of me....
Your nearness is my fruit.... Never shall I get up away from your court....
You be mine, and I'll be yours.... If I ever let go, you shall still be mine...
I want to keep you in my sight.... After all, I see God in you....
I would praise your beauty to the maximum.... Whoever sees you, falls in love with you...
Whoever meets you... stops to breathe for an instant....
After all, I see God in you.... After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
I have not the habit of seeing you... but your face is like the face of love itself....
Your name is the hardest thing... your worship is the hardest act....
This disease of love is unique... It cannot be cured by doctors...
I can die in front of you... You are my anaesthesia...
I cannot have enough of you... Looking at you, I can spend my entire life...
If you are not in front me, my love.... then I find it hard to survive...
Looking at your face is my religion... your worship is my God....
Your face is His form...God has not another form.....
My heart wishes to just keep on seeing you... After all, I see God in you....
After seeing your one lac styles... I give myself to you a lac lac times...
Be it a curtain or a wall... Please come and sit in front of me...
My heart wishes.... my heart wishes.... that you come and sit in front of me....
The moon of my heart... Let this poor person have the worship of his God...
Have you seen this season that has come... Please stay back, this season says...
Listen a bit to me... and say all that you have to say...
After crying, my tears have dried out... I have even stopped counting the stars now...
Your worship is the hope of my living... I cannot seem to have one moment of rest....
Please come in front of me, O innocent... Today I want to look into your eyes...
Please come as beautiful as you can... I want to be murdered by your beauty today....
Please come with your black dark hair... Bismil, we shall make Bismil again...
Forget the distances, come close... I wish to tell you my sad tales and hear the same from you...
My heart wishes to just keep on seeing you... After all, I see God in you....
Looking at your face is my religion... your worship is my God....
Bring your face in front of me... That time is the essence of worship...
In every prayer of this worship... when I open my eyes... you be in front of me....
Every time I pray.... Every time I want your face in front of me...
When, if, I open my eyes in my grave... your face should be in front of me....
Your nearness is my fruit.... Never shall I get up away from your court....
You be mine, and I'll be yours.... If I ever let go, you shall still be mine...
I want to keep you in my sight.... After all, I see God in you....
I would praise your beauty to the maximum.... Whoever sees you, falls in love with you...
Whoever meets you... stops to breathe for an instant....
After all, I see God in you.... After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
After all, I see God in you....After all, I see God in you....
Friday, February 19, 2010
5 top songs.... crack III
1. Tujh main rab dikhta hai... - one of the best songs i have ever heard... ever.... the lyrics, the music, composition, amazing!!!
2. Chhupaana bhi nahi aata... - pyar... love... to understand what love is, this is the song!!!
3. Teri Deewani...... preet ki latt mohe aisi laagi... if you do not love this song, then my faith in love and in life is lost
:)
4. Tadap tadap ke..... this song speaks of true love... of love when life thinks of betrayal.... of love when life thinks of separation..... when love thinks of not being with someone who does not understand what you feel.. of love when a person wants to be in love...
5. Tu hi re.... when love is only my fault.... when, I believe that love is only for u.... that love says that love is only you.... no one else... then, yes,... tu hi re....
\i know this that no matter what... love is love is love... concept is very simple.... chances of making it perfect,... t \he reason is "u can make it, or u cannot make it."....
i dunno what i am writing
:)
crack III
2. Chhupaana bhi nahi aata... - pyar... love... to understand what love is, this is the song!!!
3. Teri Deewani...... preet ki latt mohe aisi laagi... if you do not love this song, then my faith in love and in life is lost
:)
4. Tadap tadap ke..... this song speaks of true love... of love when life thinks of betrayal.... of love when life thinks of separation..... when love thinks of not being with someone who does not understand what you feel.. of love when a person wants to be in love...
5. Tu hi re.... when love is only my fault.... when, I believe that love is only for u.... that love says that love is only you.... no one else... then, yes,... tu hi re....
\i know this that no matter what... love is love is love... concept is very simple.... chances of making it perfect,... t \he reason is "u can make it, or u cannot make it."....
i dunno what i am writing
:)
crack III
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Hatheli par tumhaara naam... likhte hai mitaate hai....
tum hi se pyaar karte hai... tumhi se hi kyon chhupaate hai...
zubaan par baat hai lekin... sunaana bhi nahi aata...
humein tumse mohabbat hai... bataana bhi nahi aata....
There you go... 4 simple lines... couldn't describe my current life better... i thought i was one of the rare individuals who would find true love and that i'd be happy.... forever...
But life had to take me to different levels... Different strata of existence...but still... here i am... the usual.. the standard.. the benchmark... "yeah... don't worry about stuff,.... i'm here for you... i'll support and protect you..."
for once, i wish i had said, "No.. no chance.. i will not let you go..."
But then, this is what i am... and this is what i am all about...
after all... true love....
"if u love someone, set her free... if she comes back.... she was always yours... else she was always just for u to be immersed in..."
goddamnit!!! i hate the concept of love!!!
But what can i do!!! i love love!!! :)
and i love the one i write for... grrrr!!!!! :)
tum hi se pyaar karte hai... tumhi se hi kyon chhupaate hai...
zubaan par baat hai lekin... sunaana bhi nahi aata...
humein tumse mohabbat hai... bataana bhi nahi aata....
There you go... 4 simple lines... couldn't describe my current life better... i thought i was one of the rare individuals who would find true love and that i'd be happy.... forever...
But life had to take me to different levels... Different strata of existence...but still... here i am... the usual.. the standard.. the benchmark... "yeah... don't worry about stuff,.... i'm here for you... i'll support and protect you..."
for once, i wish i had said, "No.. no chance.. i will not let you go..."
But then, this is what i am... and this is what i am all about...
after all... true love....
"if u love someone, set her free... if she comes back.... she was always yours... else she was always just for u to be immersed in..."
goddamnit!!! i hate the concept of love!!!
But what can i do!!! i love love!!! :)
and i love the one i write for... grrrr!!!!! :)
Monday, February 15, 2010
Flight of Judgment
I was shit scared. I thought to myself, "Damn, why am I here? What the fuck have I done to my life?! I have fucking wasted my life before even starting it!!!"
But then, things changed. There was no more open hostility or tainted nods of acknowledgement. No more phony welcomes or fallacious smiles. At the end of it all, it was all true. All the smiles started not from the lips, but from the eyes. All the pats and encouragements were not from the mouth, but from the heart.
I was being judgmental initially as I am always prone to be. But so quickly a judgment can change, I never knew!!!
All that I was afraid of has ended.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Metamorphosis
(This is purely a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any living or dead person, or place, is purely coincidental)
So here I am. A human. A sexual addict. A playboy and a pervert.
All I see is women everywhere. And not just women. But everything about them. From the seductiveness of their eyes, to the lust of their lips. Right from the tenderness of their necks, to the voluptuousness of their navels. From the firmness of their thighs to the ticklish nature of the soles of their feet. Everything. I am a pervert. And everything I think about women turns to pure and wretched perverseness.
One day I meet this woman in my office. She is probably half a decade older than me. Yeah, so big deal, I think to myself. I can rope her into my web of lust and into my world of sexcapades. So I start talking to her to court her, charm her, and entice her. All with the objective of getting her into my bed. But all this did not seem to work. For a second, I was agonized. I thought I could never possess her. But then she started opening up to me. For an instant there, I thought my plan worked.
But then I realised what was truly happening. I was falling in love with her. Yeah, she was married. So what? Yeah, she was older than me. So what? Yeah, the whole office sleazily dreamt about her and while in consciousness, criticized her. So what?
I was in love. The real one. Not just a fake feeling. But the one that made me euphoric and sent me into raptures every time I saw her. Every day I waited for her to come to office, and I used to stare at the door, just so that I would be the first person to see her, and relish her, and preserve her in my mind forever.
Then things started to unfold. She was one half of an unhappy marriage, she told me. Her husband was an animal who would come home every night only to molest her, and fall asleep while doing so. He would beat her up if she refused to fall prey to his carnal desires. Life, in general, was shit to her.
Her only respite was office, where she could take her minds off things.
So I started supporting her. I was the shoulder she would cry on. Sometimes, I was scared. “Dude, this is an older, married woman.” I thought to myself. “You cannot help her.”
But sometimes I was glad. Maybe, in giving her strength and support, I was pulling myself away from the world of lechery and self-indulgence. I started to rise above petty thoughts and distractions.
In time, she started falling for me too. I realised this, and for a second, the devilish side in me rose up and wanted to devour her. But then, I came back to my senses. And I realised, that I did not have to do it. I could be her friend for life, and she could be mine. And I would never for one second regret any part of my relationship with her.
So I told her what I felt. I told her that I'd rather be friends with her. She understood. And she was glad. She said, “You are definitely the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I would not want to change this. I am really grateful that I met you, and I really will always pray for you from the bottom of my heart. You have changed me.”
Till today we are friends, and will continue to be. I just hope that everyone gets a chance in life to experience what I have. True, unadulterated, untainted love and friendship.
I still remember what she said. “You have changed me.” The truth is, she changed me. I was a deplorable, despicable wretch earlier. She, made me a man.
(Acknowledgements to a friend for the story (you know who you are), and to Old Monk, for the impetus provided. :-))
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