Yet Another Year of Many New Faces

Another year. This time, I decide to write in short what I got.

Or what I gave.

Nishtha Adroja. Plus a helluva lotta love and support from my family.

Can't ask for more. Don't want to, really.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Faith

He has His own mysterious ways of setting things right,
The jigsaw board on his table is not for the mortals to see,
Or understand,
What is unfathomable cannot be influenced either.

Easy it is to fall prey to wallowing in self pity,
But Right it is to help yourself,
For He only helps those who help themselves,
And doing the Right is always better than simply doing the Easy.

And all this while, know this and hold in your heart true,
That things will work out in the end, that's His plan,
If things are not working out,
Then it is not quite the end yet.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Letters to Santa

 It's the 15th of December. As a child, I used to write letters on this day to Santa Claus every single year, asking him what I'd want. I'd give it to my Father, and ask him to post it for me, although I never knew Santa's address. And my letter used to go like this:

Dear Santa,

I promise, I will hide a sock under my pillow for you. But you have to promise me either a bicycle or a G.I. Joe or He-Man action figure.

Love,
Vinu.

I never used to think what would happen, what I would get. Because I had so much faith in Santa.


I once even woke up when my Mother was stuffing something in the sock under my pillow. But I lay quiet. I pretended to be asleep. I knew long and long and long ago that Santa did not exist. 


I was never disappointed.

I knew it was my Mother and Father who would put toys in the sock. I always got an action figure of some G.I.Joe or He-Man character stuffed in my sock. I love you, Amma and Achan.


- Vinaykrishnan.

Your Eyes

I can read and read and still keep on reading all my life,
But I can never hope to even finish reading
What Your eyes say to me.

They start from the littlest of the twinkles
And go all the way, transforming
Into droplets of magic scattered
Like water on windshields, temporarily present.

They can go from arid to moist,
Like rains in the desert,
In a matter of seconds.

But every time Your eyes change their mood,
I begin to read something,
Not about You,
But about me...

I begin to read the love that I hold for you inside me and it reminds me of  every single reason
Of why I love You.

From the mundane to the extraordinary,
Your eyes tell a million tales.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You

In Your beauty and Your love
I am drenched,
I only take what You give me
Without want of choice,

It is You that makes me want to dance
And write these poems,
You sing inside me somewhere deep
The songs of love, and You touch me,

It is only when I see You singing
That that sight becomes this poetry.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You

I wanted to be where You are,
And so I started off in Your direction,
But one part of me went one way,
The others went their own.

That's when I feared if I followed You correctly,
Or whether You truly were not my love.

But then I realized, for me,
You are everywhere,
Everywhere is You.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Judgment

While they seem innocuous,
It is these things that really matter,
Vicinity not being closeness,
Mind not being over matter.
Life does find a way eventually,
Going under the waterfalls and over,
Ready reckonings fail
To judge the purest of intentions
Behind any motive,
Superior or ulterior.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Happiness

Over a year back, I had a dream of buying a cruiser motorcycle by this time. That never happened.

Two years back, I thought I'd have a great physique by this time. That never happened.

Three years back, I wanted to have a small 1 BHK flat of my own by this time. That never happened.

Four years back, I wanted to roaming the world as a backpacker by this time. That never happened.

But I have realized, that at those times, I only wanted to whisper with dreams and feel the mythical caresses that they offer for those who have naught to hold on to. Maybe I was only ordinary. Maybe I was only an average human being with expectations of the moon from myself. But I wanted it. I wanted it all. And I felt as if nothing could stop me. But I got nothing. Nothing yet.

I wonder if they were all only pipe dreams. Just foolish wishes. If only wishes were horses, they say. They aren't horses. Not even 1000 cc motorcycles, apparently.

I want to say that now I don't want any of it without sounding as if I'm just trying to console myself over sour grapes. But really, I don't want any of it. I have a great family, I am in love with the most amazing woman in the world, and the best part is that she loves me too. I have a great job in a city that I love, friends who wake up in the wee hours of the morning when I need them, and enough money to pass my month by without having to go hungry like in the olden days.

I am happy. Truly. Nothing beats this. Maybe, this is what I always wanted without knowing that I really did want this. I hope that some wise part of me will counsel me sometime soon saying that happiness cannot be obtained, and that it can only be eternally optimistically pursued.

But till then, I know that I am happy. Absolutely.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Writing And Me

Someone asked me a question. What was it with me and writing? Surely there are other better things to do. Right?

That's like saying what's it with a painter and drawing? And more than anything else, do I need to be tested, to prove my love for something so enjoyable, as writing? Am I to paint a stone to prove my worth in art, more metaphorically speaking?

Crackers explode in my head on thinking about your audacity in asking me.

I can stand here all day, wearing my comfy flip-flops, staring at the cream wall, contrasting, yet combining beautifully with the blood red curtains. The painting of the yellow flower on the wall only enhances the soul stirring effect. I can smell the perfume you left behind after you led me here and then walked away. I can hear the voices of the trees outside your window. I can hear the water flowing gently in the creek outside, and the wind as the air rustles the tree leaves. I can hear the birds chirping gleefully basking in their freedom, as I stand here in bondage. Not a physical chain, but mental ones.

The keys on the table near the painting, that act as a weight holding that piece of thread that tore from your dress reminds me of how once I could take a pen and write down my ideas. My ideas, like the thread, I could hold down with my imagination, as the keys held the thread. I lift it up and let the thread soar in the breeze. Up and out the window.

The lamp now dies out, and the silence of your abstract ideas threatens to engulf me.

I can write no longer now. You asked me once what it was with me and writing.

Now there's nothing.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You (the Xth)

I wish You were here.

At times, I wish I could simply cry
And let out my tears
In hope that my thoughts of You go out of my mind through my eyes along with my tears.

But then I realize,
That tears are only water and salt.

You are not.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You

i was bound by chains earlier, 
Strangled wings,
But then You happened to me,
i think i can fly now.

Please save me completely,
You have done half the job already by simply telling me that You love me.
The rest i am not worried about anymore.

Because i know that You are my redeemer,
A name soon to be on my arm.

You, undoubtedly, unabashedly, unequivocally, are my world.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You.

i feel so good
When i think about You,
And while this does not sound or seem like a good line for a poem,
It does convey what i feel
When i think
About
You.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Five most popular cocktails and mixed drinks

Even if this article of mine never gets published, I believe it is almost necessary for me as an alcohol lover to post this.

Cheers!

Five most popular cocktails and mixed drinks

 

- Vinaykrishnan Menon, 2011-10-18

There are thousands of cocktails, each with a variation of its own to the recipe, around the world. But some of the most famous cocktails are those that you can find in any pub, bar or lounge in the whole world. These are not only universally liked, but also learned by enthusiasts so that they can make these heady alcoholic concoctions in the comfort of their homes for themselves and their family and friends.

We’ve picked out the 5 most popular cocktails in the world for you to know about, and we’ve given you the recipe for each:

1. The Martini
This drink has many many variations to it, but here we shall show the the basic Martini, on which you can improvise as required.
a. Ingredients
75 ml gin, 15 ml dry vermouth, Orange bitters and 1 green olive or lemon slice for garnish. 
b. Recipe
Fill a mixing glass with ice cubes and pour the ingredients into this. Stir (or shake, if you are James Bond) for 30 seconds. Pour this into a chilled cocktail glass, ensuring ice is strained out, and add orange bitters to this. Garnish with the olive or the lemon slice and serve.

2. The Margarita
The Margarita is one of the most refreshingly addictive summer drinks in the world. This drink too has many variations across the world. The Margarita can basically be served either neat, frozen, or on the rocks. We shall show you how to make neat Margarita.
a. Ingredients
45 ml tequila, 15 ml triple sec, 90 ml sour mix, a dash of lime juice, a lime wedge for garnish, salt or sugar to apply on the rim of the glass.
b. Recipe
Fill a cocktail mixer with ice cubes, pour in the ingredients and shake well for about 45 seconds. Take the Margarita glass, and place the rim on a plate filled with salt or sugar (depending on your taste). Make the glass upright and pour in the mixture into the glass along with the ice cubes. Fix the lime wedge on the rim of the glass as garnish and serve.

3. Long Island Iced Tea
The Long Island Iced Tea, also known as LIIT, is a classic cocktail.Having 5 different white spirits, this drink is particularly easy to keep on refilling owing to the sour mix and cola additions.
a. Ingredients
30 ml triple sec, 30 ml tequila, 30 ml light rum, 30 ml gin, 30 ml vodka, 15 ml sour mix, 75 ml cola, 8 mint leaves, lime wedge for garnish. 
b. Recipe
Fill a cocktail mixer with ice cubes, pour in the alcoholic ingredients and shake well for about one minute. Then pour in the cola on the top and add the mint leaves and gently stir for about 5 seconds. Pour this mixture into a tall glass (Collin’s glass) and add the lime wedge on the rim of the glass as garnish. You may even put the lime wedge garnish into the mixture itself.


4. Screwdriver
One of the easiest recipes in the book, the Screwdriver is the perfect source of vitamin C. It is one of the world’s most popular summer drinks, and some Russians even love it in the winters. 
a. Ingredients
60 ml vodka, 150 ml orange juice. 
b. Recipe
Pour both, the vodka and the fresh orange juice, into a tall Collin’s glass which is filled with ice cubes. Stir well for a minute. Presto! Your Screwdriver is ready to be served.

5. Bloody Mary
The Bloody Mary is the cocktail drink that the world turns to for getting over a hangover, because of its spicy tomato taste. It has a few variations, based on whether you want it to be more alcoholic (Bloody Maria) or non-alcoholic (Virgin Mary). We’re going to show you how to make the standard Bloody Mary. The catch to making a great Bloody Mary is to follow order in which the ingredients are added in the glass.
a. Ingredients
90 ml tomato juice, 45 ml vodka, 15 ml lemon juice, 10 ml Worcestershire sauce, some celery salt, hot pepper sauce, ground pepper, lime wedge for garnish. 
b. Recipe
Pour the tomato juice in a tall glass with ice cubes. Add the vodka and then the lemon juice in the glass, one after the other. Add a dash of Worcestershire sauce, a bit of celery salt and ground pepper, and a dash of hot pepper sauce. Mix well in the glass. Garnish with lime wedge and serve.

Hope you enjoy making and drinking these amazingly popular cocktails. We know we enjoyed both, the preparation, and the celebrations after drinking.

- Vinaykrishnan

Ever Slipping Sands

Every moment that I have,
It slips away like a wave,
Notice the sand around your feet when you stand in the wave that passes away.

Ever slipping, ever moving.
Nothing I can do to stop it.
Tell it to please stop for at least one moment so that I can see you.

Love. Is. Difficult.
Or so they said.
I realized it is not true as long as you don't want it to be true.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Dad's Photography

My Dad has always had a penchant for photography. Call it his ill luck, or my poor finance management, he could never, however, have a fantastic camera to work with. He always had to do with nominal, cheap cameras that were only ordinary at best.

Yet he never ceases to amaze me with his photography. Here are some "National Geographic" pictures that he shot at a recent vacation he took.

I'll post more and more as he keeps sending me his photographs.

Cheers, Dad!!! You are awesome!!!

- Vinaykrishnan.

The Turn Of Events.

It was quite a kiss,
A lip-lock, that started
Not from the fullness of the lips,
But from the twinkle in the eyes.

The notes that played in my head at that moment,
Mozart looked amateurish at that time,
The inviting appeal of the kiss,
Making me want more.

The way our bodies moved
To the rhythm of the night,
Unerringly intimate,
Surprising delight.

And then the closet opened,
Skeletons and hideous bones,
Baring it all open,
Jaws and maws of monsters.

All under the bed,
Over the table,
Slowly spreading rot and foulness,
Terrifying me as I hear the familiar ring.

The alarm of the cell phone,
Ushering in the morning,
A cold sweat I woke up in,
To realize the turn of events.

How a single kiss
Could be so fatal,
That it turned from intimacy
To horror in bed.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You

i used to dream in black and white and shades of grey in between.
but then You happened to my life.
now i dream in colours.

i have no place to go now except sit on the floor lit by scattered rays of light.
You are the source of light.
and now i can see.

i always prayed for the waves of this city to wash me away to anywhere but here.
but You rode on a wave and came to me.
now You are my rock.

i used to think that i had it all figured out and could put it all in words.
but You showed me how to unlearn words.
now i can put stories in empty spaces.

ever so often i would lose the point and purpose of my mundane existence here.
but You told me what i meant to this world.
now You are my world.

between all my quirks and oddities and vices, i wondered what my biggest failure was.
now You have taught me to look at the bright side.
and now You are my biggest attainment.

kept falling into a mental abyss of nebulous miasma, spiralling rapidly to being burnt away to ashes.

but You came along and saved me.

now i am drenched in Your love.

thank You. for everything.

- vinaykrishnan

The Natural Order

Armageddon.

Everything already destroyed, 

Relive death,

The point before the end,

Collapsing after that,

Knowing the end is near,

Loving while living,

Enjoying the full blooms of the gardens,

Procreating, marrying, falling in love,

That childhood fantasizing and day dreaming,

The warm bosom of the mother,

The umbilical cord,

Genesis.

From rockets and the internet

To swords and trebuchets,

Crusades and proselytization,

Africa,

Jesus.

The mighty Romans.

The Mahabharata and the Ramayana. 

Wheel and fire.

Primates.

To devolution and degeneration

And dinosaurs ruling the earth. 

And millions of years beyond.

Till it all ends with a Big Bang.

The chimerical void after that.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Of Promiscuous Recipients and Traveling Boners

I truly believe that no two People are identical.


However, there are two types of people that I really admire.


First, those who receive and absorb everything. They are ready to be taken to bed by anything and everything that comes their way. Learning the ways of the world is the easiest for these people as they readily assimilate all that comes their way. They prostitute their mind for everything that they come across, no matter how useless or trivial. They comprehend, consume, swallow and suck it all in.


I like to think of these people as the Promiscuous Recipients.


Secondly, those people roam the world and are up for anything. They are ready to do absolutely anything that they feel is worth it. Nothing lazy about these people, always up for a challenge. They learn by doing, not be receiving, unlike the Promiscuous Recipients. Always traveling in search of newer shores to explore, these are the go-getters of every age. Those who stood up to the opportunity of seeing the world and grabbed it with both hands. 


These people, I like to think of as the Traveling Boners. 


Everyone has a little of both in them. I know how much I have of each. What about you?


- Vinaykrishnan.

Growing Cold

I am stuck in-between.

Forever longing for the place that doesn't exist anymore, never satisfied with where I am now.

I think it happens with everyone my age. If not age, then definitely with everyone with my outlook to life. If not outlook, then definitely to everyone who is I.

That sense of belonging to a place that I was in, that I roamed in, breathed in, smoked in, drank in, made friends in, lived in. I am in the same place still. But not quite there. As if there was a giant, earth-size plunger that sucked the very essence of this place out. As if a cigarette that's lit out of the last match stick fell into water. Snuffing it out. The cigarette is still there. Oh yes it is. But what's the point now? It's as if it's just nothing. As if that cigarette does not exist, and as if it's existence were a mere illusion that we dreamed about in this nebulous miasma of a life that we pretend to exist in.

It's all fucked up sometimes. Imagine a seesaw having two boys on either side, and the seesaw then going up and down. The kids are laughing. They are having a ball. Then you see a car passing by the road and see an old lady the age, and face, of an dinosaur. She smiles, and it's okay, your heartbeats slow down back to normal pace again. You smile back too and turn back to seeing the kids on the seesaw.

Only that the seesaw is immovably still. And the kids are just statues. Still life. It's eerie. The seesaw is still there, the kids too. But the life is gone from the scene. The essence. The core, crux, fiber, constitution is gone. Only the formation remains.

Pretty weird. I'm speechless too. Now I'm blank too. I was full of life before now. Now I'm this statue too. Just can't say a word.

And so, life hardened into marble, and grew cold.

- Vinaykrishnan.

A writing exercise - Part II (A, B, M and S)

Here is part 2 of my writing exercise. Please bear with me.

A

Anti-pathetic against avarice,
Alternately altering all acts,
Altogether alone as an armor,
And allowing actions an act,
Awarding all actors,
Abnegating avarice and alleviating angst.

B

Big billion blazes blowing by Boston's breeze,
Billowing bulbous barns,
Blackened by blasted bombs,
Blue, bright barnacles,
Braving blundering bludgeons.

M

Mostly men meander meaninglessly,
Mashing moments miasmically,
Mending momentary madness,
Mentoring measly mentees,
Mainly moving minutely,
Metamorphosis made material.

S (Part I)

Sweet sorrow sings sadly,
Summing sorrow's sadness,
Smiling such sadly
Solving sorrow's solitude,
Simple sorrow's shambles shall seem,
Sombre sorrows shall sing,
"So sorry, Senorita Selena,
Something stupid said Sorrow."

That's 6 letters done now. 9 more to go.

- Vinaykrishnan.

P.S. Thanks Baby for the dictation. Love you.

Ramblings. As always.

I have noticed that many things make me happy. For no reason as such. But just because it's there. Or because it's happened. Some are things of real beauty. Some are weird. Some simply make me gaze at them for a few moments and smile inside before I turn my thoughts away to the more mundane things in life.

Rain. Seeing a sparrow hopping about. All the cables and wires entangled behind my PC. Leaves in the sunlight. Many tabs on my browser. My tattoos. I love my tattoos. I wish I could see the one my shoulder as well without having to look at the mirror. But I guess that's why I like this one the most.

Vinyl Record (LP) Players. The pics of my niece on Facebook. Cobwebs. Cobwebs are so beautiful especially when it has just rained and the sunlight filters through it. Every strand shines like multi-colored silk threads. And it gently vibrates with each movement of the spider on it. A trap, but a beautiful one.

A lot more things. But right now, I'd rather just not write about it. I've lost the mood to write.

I even like that I at least have the freedom of not writing if I don't want to. That I am not obliged to complete a post just because I have started it.

This, too, is beautiful.

- Vinaykrishnan.

A writing exercise - Part I (C and D)

My sister, Anita Menon, is an avid blogger (read blog here) and writer. She is part of a Creative Writing Group in Bahrain, where she resides with her husband and daughter. One of the exercises she worked on during one writing workshop was to write poetry which only has alliteration. That is, for the noobs in English grammar, every word has to start with the same letter.

She suggested I try this with the letter C and the letter D.

So here goes:

Curiosity creates confusion.
Clearly considered certainties can come conflicted,
Crude clues conceptualize conclusively,
Conceiving conjured creations,
Collapsing complex castles,
Carefully clawing close,
Compounding complications,
Concepts convolute,
Causing contemporary convictions.

Does dejection destroy devotion?
Darlings devastate destinies
During dating,
Directly denying devotees' desires,
Devastating, divulging,
Debasing, degrading, divorcing.

Does delving deep deign dignity?
Demeaning deference,
Doubting devotion,
Destroying dedication,
Deepening distrust,
Deserting deliberation.

Do diminutive dimensions define democracy?
Dealers dealing decisions debate,
Drawing deductions,
Deciding destinies,
Defining days,
Directing death.

I will try this for as many letters as I can in the English alphabet. Fingers crossed, I should be able to do atleast 15 letters out of the 26.

Wish me luck. :-)

- Vinaykrishnan.

You.

I can fly higher than the skies,
Higher than the heavens.
But only when You are the wind beneath my wings,
Only when You have held my hand tight.
For You are my fuel,
And my inspiration for something bigger.

I can soar amongst the eagles,
And even among the treacherous Andies.
But only when You are the sound that accompanies my flapping,
The echo that hits the rocks and comes back.
For You are my love,
And my want for something better.

I can live amongst the elite of the crowd,
And even amongst the most despicable, and yet be a Man.
But only when You are the one that redeems me,
The salvation that frees me.
For You are my life,
And my desire to live life whole-heartedly.

- Vinu.

You (My personal best till now)

None but I rule here,
Fires and pits of tar I will make you bear,
I walk these lands with my trident in my hand,
My tail swishing left, right, center and making markings in the sand.

I remember Him. Well. Very Well.
He was tall, dark and rugged looking.
I guess you youngsters might call Him Eastwood,
But I think I'll call Him "I".

And I and I used to walk on the gardens of Elysium,
And He and I used to carry Zeus, Poseidon and Hades.
I loved Hades. He was a good kid. Always obedient.
But He. He loved Zeus. Because Zeus was like Him.

Powerful.

And He and I had our fights. And we loved.
And we fought.
And I lost.

Then I got tired, and built my own kingdom.
And while He knew, He never complained.
He just used to tell me, "Balance, my child."

Hah!! I used to laugh on His face.
But now I realise his true intent.
But that is past, and none can be done or regretted.

And I ruled over my roost for ages. And ages past.
And ages beyond. And ages not thought of.

And none I ever saw like me.

But then I met You.
I looked at you, and you laughed at me.
You.
You laughed at me.
I said,
"Vinay, don't laugh, you foolish one.
I am the king of my hearth,
And the owner of my lands.
I will burn you till eternity."

And You only said,
"I'm not with Her.
She is not with me.
How does anything else matter?
Is any other punishment as painful?"

I hate Vinay.
I really do.
He put me in a spot that none could.

As Mclean said,
No angel of hell could break my spell.
I really thought none could.

But then I had to meet Vinay. He showed me.
He held me, and said,
"Someday, I hope you are with someone you love.
The way I will be in some time."

And she came up one day.
All gold, and glittering,
And white feathers.

Dedication - Vinay said.
And he simply looked at me, and smiled,
And went away to her.
I looked, and could not stop him.

And now I want Him.
I want You.
You are so many.
You are so much.
You are all I want. Nothing more.
Nothing less.

And that's just not Satan speaking.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You.

That my love had nothing to gain, but your eyes forever;
That my say had nothing insane, but you forever,
Insanity they say ruled what I had in love,
But I only wanted to breathe you,
And dance in the rhythm of your music,
And revel in the ecstasy of your tone,
But none of this that happened,
Now I just feel the need for you in my life.
And she can say I'm sexy, or that I look really awesome...
And I think she does too...
But nothing like you,
And nothing like me liking you,
For whom the sweetest of the paraphrases do I do.

Enlightenment. It's like Nirvana from the Boddhisatva.
Swami.
Devi.
I live in your embrace.
I die in your love.

I am yours.

Truly.

- Vinaykrishnan.

The Hero (part IV)

Heroism, I had heard, was not only about courage or strength. Intelligence was a key factor too. Choosing your battles was as important as fighting them.

This time, I knew I had to be on my alert as I try to pull this off. Nothing fancy. Just trusting luck to do it's thing. Usually, with me, Lady Luck never liked the color of my gold coins. I was hoping she'd love it this time.

I dashed to my right. The beast spotted me rush right, and took a step towards it's left to crouch, and pounced.

And it fell to the ground with a earth-shaking thud.

It's right foot was caught in the protruding root when it jumped and it tripped and fell!

I took my chance. I dived towards the beast, hunting knife in my hand, and ran the knife through the beast's skull. I pushed and it lodged all the way up to the handle. I could feel the knife go through it's brains like a cleaver goes through mutton.

It howled in pain and struck me with a left backhand. I was flung three yards away from it and I landed on a rock that hit me on my back. I cried out in pain.

I looked at the beast. It rose, shakily. And it stood on it's feet and steadied itself. It was an eerie sight. A beast like it standing in the backdrop of the rays of sunlight filtering in through the trees, with the handle of a knife sticking out of its head. It stood for a moment like that.

And it fell. Like a dry branch hitting the earth. Motionless. Still. Dead.

My strength drained away. I lay flat on my back heaving with relief. I had survived.

I was wrong today. Heroes do exist. They just aren't what we hear stories of, though. They aren't made of steel nor can they fly, nor do they have any super powers. They are normal human beings, like you and me. Heroes exist. And not just in fairy tales.

I am my own Hero.

- Vinaykrishnan.

The Hero (part III)

As a child, I always was told stories of how heroes would come in the nick of time, and save the world from being run over by evil. They would look handsome even after the bloodiest of battles, their battle scars and bloody noses only adding to their aura of courage, bravery and strength.

I always thought it true. I have carried this belief of heroes saving the day up to even now, as a young man. I'm 26, and I have lived in dark times. But my faith in them has never ceased, never wavered. Undoubtedly, I remained steadfast to my notions.

I couldn't be more wrong. There are no heroes coming now.

I look up to the eyes of the beast, glowering down at me. It's huge figure has blotted out the background, and I cannot see the sunlight cutting through the foliage and hitting the mossy and damp ground.

"Steady now, Viv," I say to myself. I did not want to do anything foolish. Let's just bid time now. See if there is a roll of the dice yet left. Some strange weaving of the web of fate that has spun in my favour.

I looked at the creature's feet, sinewy muscles culminating into large feet, with curved talons. 4 talons. Wicked. But beautiful. Even in an abomination, the Creator sprinkles beauty. If I were not fighting for my life now, I'd stand back and admire the lithesome creature. The perfect predator.

And something near it's feet caught my eye. A root of the oat protruded from the earth and the creature was standing above it with it's feet on either side of the root.

I had to take this chance. My only chance.

- Vinaykrishnan.

The Hero (part II)

"Get away, you foul!!!" I shouted. I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. My throat was all dry and I was waving my arms like a madman.

The beast did not even flinch. It's tail kept swishing from one side to another, balancing that huge torso. Muscles like no man has ever seen. Rippling, bulging. I felt they'd tear out of its skin.

I thought of Nicola. Her black hair, cascading on her bare shoulders. Her playful winks and her cute smile. I thought of the straw bed in her farm where we lay on a summer night, watching the stars and making love. Visions of unbridled joy. But these brought tears to my eyes.

The creature, hunched shoulders and outstretched arms growled slowly in its throat. Spittle formed near the corners of it's outstretched lips. Teeth bared. Almost in a smile.

I jammed my hands to the mossy floor of the forest, and tried to get up, my back rubbing against the bark of the oak.

I get up and gingerly test my sprained ankle. It hurts, but I can stand. I MUST stand. I have no chance against this beast on my arse.

My hunting knife in my hands, I flex my shoulders. I'm ready for its lunge. I know that if it lunges, I'll not make it. It's bigger, stronger and faster than me.

It will go for my throat or my heart. Two on one against this beast is a risky affair. One on one, I'd have to be made of iron to survive.

Where are heroes when you need them?

- Vinaykrishnan.

The Hero (part I)

The beast stared into my eyes. Red eyes, glowering with the pangs of hunger. And violence. And savagery.

I could do nothing. I was with my back against the oak trunk. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. My sword was not in my scabbard. My hunting knife look like a paper cutter in my hands, not to talk of the beast in front of me.

I thought of my mother. She used to feed me rice and curd with her hand. I loved food best when it was from her hands. She was a great cook, a great mother. I loved her.

I thought of my father. He, was a man. He, was my hero. The way he'd tell me tales of the dark forests and how he won my mother's heart by saving her in some part of them. Every son loves his father. Every son wanted to be half the man his father was. I was no different.

The animal... no, half-man, half-animal, took a step forward. Claws flexing, teeth baring.

I could feel drums in my head. Maybe someone coming to save me! That would be most welcome!

But no. It's just my blood rushing through my ears. Throbbing. Pulsating. Electrifying.

Scary.

I always thought I'd be a hero when I'm in a fix.

I was wrong. This is no fairy tale. The damsel in distress is me. There is no knight in shining armour to save me. There are no heroes.

- Vinaykrishnan.

I cried.

I was not born then. My mother says she had cried back then on her birthday. 25th June, 1983. Kapil Dev. Mohinder Amarnath. Some great cricket.

She cried again last night. As did I.

When Sachin strode out to play with Sehwag, we had a sense of awe about them. That no target is too huge while these two are at the crease. A God. And a lesser God. But Gods.

Then went Sehwag. Sachin looked in touch. But He fell too. Anti-climax before the end. I was amazed at how someone I do not know can affect me so much. I was angry. Really enraged.

But then two Delhiites came to the crease. And took us a distance. I had hope again before Virat fell.

Then came the master stroke. Cometh the hour, cometh the man. It takes guts to stand up and say, "I am your leader. I will take you to the end". Dhoni proved that he had it in him. Biblical, almost.

A grittier knock never has the world cup seen by a captain in the finals. Maybe, Da Silva in the 1996 finals. But no. Not of this kind. Dhoni played his heart out. He came out to the pitch, and he batted like there was no tomorrow. As if losing today, and his heart would stop beating. Clutched at his wicket with the same tenacity as a drowning man holds on to his last breath. But Dhoni held. And he emerged.

That stump that he picked up. I am taking the World Cup home. Awesome.

I was adrenaline-pumped then. Big time. I was laughing my ass off at everyone of the doubters. Everyone who ever said that India would not win.

But then something even more awesome happened. The kids carried Sachin on their shoulders and paraded. Sachin. The Man we all admire. The Man we all respect. The Man we all love. The Man who makes us believe in miracles, and in Gods, and in switching off our lives and switching on our television sets.

Sachin. Now He has everything. And He can now sit back and say, "I did what I had to do. But now, the time has come where I have Men I can trust to do my job."

He has been at it for 22 years. 22 YEARS.

Now, He can rest.

Thank You, Dhoni and Sachin. And all the others involved. You had to be the ones to make me cry. And I have no regrets.

Thank you for making me cry.

- Vinaykrishnan.

All This Loneliness

(Yeh Viraaniyaan - Namaste London)

Those days, when You were with me,
Life was wide awake,
All the seasons were my best friends,
The paths were invitations
Written by destinations for us on the ground...
The trees opened their boughs
To drape us in the shawls of shade...
In the evenings, all the stars
Used to smile watching us...
The winds, singing the songs of fragrance,
Used to tease us and pass away,
The sky was a lake of the moonlight,
In which every night a flower of the moon used to bloom
And in the lake of the moonlight
It used to touch the banks of the rivers of our hearts...
Those days, when You were with me,

My love, when it got thirsty,
Then my sadness got even deeper...
My Life, without You
Has all this Loneliness...
All this Loneliness...

All the roads are empty,
All the destinations are pointless, Love,
My eyes are still desperately searching,
My heart is still bare...
Love...
Only Loneliness only surrounds me,
In my heart lies only silence,
My Life, without You
Has all this Loneliness...
All this Loneliness...

Whenever I breathe,
My breath pinches in my chest, Love,
Even now, there is a a ray of hope that pinches in my heart, Love,
Love...
All my dreams are about to be shattered,
Even the straws that I clutch at are a stretch...
My Life, without You
Has all this Loneliness...
All this Loneliness...

- Vinaykrishnan.

Asked, Not Received

Am I really all of this?
Two ounces of respect, and
Three of love,
I didn't ask for much.

Yet I received none.
All in vain,
It seems.

I did not ask for royalty.
I did not ask for
People to carry me on their shoulders
And parade me through the town.

I did not ask for a palace,
Lord,
Only for a small hut
To stay in. Hide away.

But You insisted on making me a mansion of glass.
And glass is strewn all on the floors.
And now even the slightest footfall
Causes me to shout out in angst.

In pain.

True was my faith,
I held hard to the rocks.
Yet the sea still threatens to swallow me up like a whale swallows a school of fish.

Intangible.
Inconsequential.
Like in autumn
A dry leaf in the wind.

Fluttering away to meet the earth.
It's genesis.

My creator.

- Vinaykrishnan.

My Fatal Flaws

I have realized that I have two fatal flaws. Both take me to completely different levels of thinking. And I like it this way. Maybe they are not flaws at all. Maybe they define me. Maybe they make me the person I am.

Anger. Rage comes to me in a frenzy. But I let go. I almost always let go. I have learnt to control my rage in a manner that I can deal with. Because my anger only causes hurt to others. And I am bigger than that.

Disappointment. When I am disappointed, however, unlike my anger, I can never let go. Ever. If someone disappoints me I will never let them rise in my graces again. Then they become non-existent for me. I am apathetic towards them. I will tolerate them, even be nice to them, but I'll never be their friend ever again. I know only one person who has disappointed me, and rose back in my graces. And half of us are not fit to even lick her boots.

My fatal flaws. My Kryptonite.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Flight of Icarus

There's a man standing there on the hill. His figure casts a silhouette in the backdrop of the rising sun, and he looks like an angel. Yes. An angel. Not by his countenance or his aura or anything so spiritual or supernatural. But because he has wings. Yes. Wings. When I see them spread as he spreads his hands out, I realize he's about to take off. And he takes that step over the ledge. For a moment, I run towards the edge, weighed down by my own wings, but then, suddenly he swoops up in the air like an eagle, wings flapping to assist his rise, the updraft helpiing him along and soar towards the open skies. He's a free man now.

Now it's my turn to walk my father's steps. Or should I say, FLY my father's path. I stand at the edge. Looking down is scary. It's pretty deep a drop from here. I don't think falling would be as musical as they say. Or even lyrical. Nopes. It would be plain horrid. I'm afraid. I do not want to take the leap. My father is a genius, and I see his genius at work even now when his wax wings have done the trick. But I'm still scared. I don't jump. I won't jump. I'll find another way out of this mess.

"Guards, there he is! Capture him!"

I turn back to see guards rushing at me, the red crests of their helmets fluttering in the wind. Their swords are unsheathed, glinting in the sun.

I turn back, and jump. Father had told me to flap gently and I did. I was scared. But the very first flap of my wings took me higher. Three more flaps and I was gliding away towards the sun. Towards the skies. Towards my father. Towards freedom!

It takes time to adjust and learn how to fly. But I'm a natural. I took to flying so easily, I started proudly smiling at my own abilities. Father is a genius, and his son is not a dolt either. I catch up with Father, who still warns me not to fly too low, or too high. I smile at him, nodding, and shout out that I'm not stupid. He smiles back.

But ahh, the thrill of flying. I swoop, soar, rise and glide. My heart calls out loudly to all the Gods and all the men, who never thought man could fly. We beat them all. I see the sun. It is majestic. Helios should be saluted. I fly higher to offer Helios my salutations. I don't see him yet, and so I fly higher. I feel hot. But I still fly higher to see Helios. The sun is glaring down at me as if to challenge how a mere mortal can come so close to him. I laugh it's glare down. I fly even higher.

It's getting harder to fly now though. I have to flap harder, faster. And that's when I notice that the wax holding my osier and willow wings together are melting. The twigs are giving way, creating holes in my wings. I lose control. I am now losing height.

I spiral away towards the sea rapidly. I can't do a thing to help myself. Somewhere in my mind, I can hear myself shouting. It's all surreal. Like a dream. I see my father trying to help me by holding me, but I'm too heavy for one set of wings to support. I fall.

I crash into the ocean. I don't know how to swim. I'm drowning. They say drowning is the most painful way to die. I think so too now. The last vestiges of air in my lungs give way. I feel my lungs being filled by water. I wonder if they would ever honour me. Maybe name the sea, and maybe even a small island after me.

I'm blacking out now. I see stars in the sea. Yes, stars in the water.

And my mind now only has two thoughts in it.

I love my father.

I could not salute the sun.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Don't leave now... (Ab na Jaa - Euphoria)

When I close my eyes,
I see only You,
Only in my dreams
I can call You mine,
Please leave it be,
My faith in my illusions,
Don't leave now...
It's a night of love,
Don't leave now...
It's just a small matter,
Don't leave now...

My sleep is only by you,
So what if I don't get sleep?
My conversations are only by you,
So what if I don't get to talk?
Let the stars tell their stories untold,
Don't leave now...
It's a night of love,
Don't leave now...
It's just a small matter,
Don't leave now...
It's a meeting of only a few moments,
Don't leave now...
The night is like magic,
Don't leave now...

On my forehead are drops of love,
Scattered are many questions,
My eyes have many seasons in them,
In a moment how many years passed!
Let life take me wherever it flows to
Don't leave now...
It's a night of love,
Don't leave now...
It's just a small matter,
Don't leave now...
It's a meeting of only a few moments,
Don't leave now...
The night is like magic,
Don't leave now...

Don't leave now...
Don't leave now...
Don't leave now...
Don't leave now...

- Vinaykrishnan.

My Personal Pleasure

Compulsive Blogging? Never heard of it. I've only done two blogs a day, that too one day of my life. TODAY. But they say the joy of blogging, putting down everything on the internet for the world to see, is something that is addictive. Like cocaine. You just can't stop. I think I can't get addicted though. The reason is simple. Lack of people's criticism on my blogging. I have not publicised my blog to too many people. Only some friends, and my family. Well, I do get the occasional post on Facebook for my efforts. But really, not one person has ever said that a post of mine was TOTAL CRAP. And I find a lot of my posts to be truckloads of bullshit. Like this one that I'm writing right now. A two-tonne truckload of mindless rambling about things that nobody would EVER read, or want to read themselves, or want others to read.

But then I think to myself, that maybe, MAYBE, I'm only writing for my own pleasure. Of course you can argue that I am saying this as no one does read too much of me. Sour grapes, is the expression that comes to mind. But personally, I really do think I write only for MY OWN reading pleasure. When I do write something for someone, I always make it a point to tell them that that particular post is for them to read, or is something they would like to read, or is a DEDICATION to them.

But I guess, this, like all my previous posts, is just another straw of grass in the wind. It will dry out too someday. And something new would take it's place. Maybe another blade of grass. Maybe an oak tree.

Till we find out what that new thing is, I'll just keep writing for my personal pleasure.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Random Observations.

Hmmm... I'm wondering what to write. I am at the New Delhi IGI Airport, and I love this place. I also am basically of the nature of observing people at airports and bus stations. What they are doing, what they are eating, what they are reading, whether they are listening to music on their mobiles or talking to someone.

The Aussies are playing the Kiwis right now. I think the match is in Ferozshah Kotla. Mamata is raving on about her Railway Budget for over a couple of hours now. Costa Coffee, Curry Republic, Foodie's Bar and Masala Twist are overly priced. KFC and PHD look pale in comparison. But I love my Zingers. I remember I was flying to Kochi once and I had 2 Zingers and 2 Chicken Pieces with a Coke at 6:15 in the morning! Beer is available, but I'm avoiding it. Flying is a dehydrating experience in itself. Not to mention that I am shit scared of flying, yet end up taking at least 6 to 8 flights in a year.

I'm also chatting away on my cell phone with a lot of people. And was going through my Sister's Blog. I thought I was a decent writer. But my Sister kicks my ass left, right and center. I love her posts, and love the passion with which she describes recipes, and my Niece's naughtiness.

The dry announcements rambling over the loud-speakers are the only part of this setup that I dislike. Intensely. All right, I heard you the first time! Just shut the eff up already! God, you're like a school of piranhas! Nagging away.

Okay, I'm done. Need a change of shirts. I'm wearing warm clothes, but Ahmedabad is hot this time of the year.

And oh, someone is singing Bailamos on the television. Not Enrique. Just thought you'd like to know.

- Vinaykrishnan.

You

Nothing that can separate me from Your embrace,
Every breath of mine now resounds with Your Name,
I walk only the path that leads me to You,
Not a hurdle large enough to deter my steps.

Like the musk-deer, haunted by it's own fragrance,
I travelled amidst the trivial searching You,
Only to realize now that none other Your Abode
Than within my own self.

Not one worth knowing, except You,
No one's but Your Eyes worth looking at,
Nothing captivates me more now,
Not even the mirror showing my reflection.

Pale is all the world's grandeur
Against the aura of Your Presence,
And nothing more I wish than to stay in your warmth,
In Your unbridled, unadulterated and pure Love.

I am only Yours,
Undoubtedly, Unequivocally, Unabashedly.

- Vinaykrishnan.

Intermingled Causes

The trough that comes before a crest is what teaches man the value of the crest. That feeling of that all-time low, intermingling with, and also causative of, frustration, irritation, despondency and loss of faith and patience - all of this when reminisced during fairer times, though may seem stupid and trivial, are actually what allows man to feel the ecstasy of the good times better.

Like darkness. Paving the way for the light. So that the ways of the light can be seen clearer. So that the whirling swarms of particles can be viewed better in the filtering rays of the light.

Like evil. Laying the foundation for good to tear through all its bonds and shackles and emerge victorious. That goodness in itself only learns what is good through evil.

Only through the whimisical vagaries and vicissitudes of evil and darkness are goodness and light born and sustained. That nothing good can come unless you wait for the bad to get finished. It's a cycle, one that goes on and on. And I hope I can learn that completely, and understand it completely and assimilate it completely, so that I can be more acute in my understanding, and stop being so obtuse in my thinking and outlook.

I am on a high now. Getting to the crest, now that I have gone through the trough - it's an amazing feeling.

Flying high.

- Vinaykrishnan.

A Thousand Feet To The Bottom - A Tale Of The End

Like standing on a precipice. Look down. Look down! It's amazing! Isn't it? A sheer fall of over a thousand feet into an abyss you can barely see. Is it water down there? Or is it a hard rock? You can't tell. Faith took you upto here. And faith shall see you through, you think. No use of faith. It's a block of concrete down there. Oh, actually it's water. Pure, glistening, if there were any sunlight on it ever. They say falling from such height into water, or even cotton, is like falling on a slab of steel from a three storeyed building.

Splat! That's the last thing that would go through your head.

I think it's strange that you must think so. It's just a leap. One jump, or even one step off the ledge. Faith. Gives you wings. Let's try. What say you? I wonder if it's real wings. Like in the Red Bull advertisement. Or like the guy in X-Men who breaks the window panes, and spreads his lovely white wings. Maybe it's like Icarus, who just wouldn't listen to his father. Poor Daedalus. Sheer genius, yet to have a kid who's a dolt. Wax wings. What say you? Let's try it out. Atleast in our final act of rebellion, of defiance, of breaking free from this bondage, we shall find out. In that last moment of refusal to accept tyranny, we shall experience something unique. Something we have never felt ever before. Something true. Pure. Ecstatic. Blissful. True and unadulterated freedom. Freedom. Independence.

Or something really dreadful. Fear. Horror. Regret. Shame. I wonder what we would feel. Maybe even repulsion. That the world never saw us for what we were. That we could not ever show the world our true mettle. That despite us having a stage, we were only ordinary stage actors. That nothing about us was so appealing that the universe did not even try to stop us from doing something so terrible. Or so heavenly.

Musical maybe.

I wonder if you think of what music you like when you fall. Meatloaf? Or is it Beethoven? Maybe it's Euphoria. Euphoria as in the band. Maybe, maybe, it's fusion. Like something Middle Eastern, with a dash of the Corrs. Or maybe, it's only Bryan Adams. So Far So Good.

But whatever it may be, I truly do believe that we are justified. That we took birth and lived not by our choice is something I shall not debate anymore. But that we lived and quit by our choice is something I shall want to have. It's true. It's mine to choose. To opt for. My only. My precious. Tolkien was never wrong. Not once.

Maybe it's all the books you read. Tolstoy. Chekhov. Tolkien. Goodkind. Gaiman. Or maybe even the Kings that you read. All of it culminating into something special. Spectacular. Down. You're pretty close to the bottom now.

You. Your first kiss. Your first love. Your joy at seeing your child smile at you for the first time. Your first kiss again. The eyes of your lover. That feeling of holding her so tight that you would never let go. That hair that she rolls up and ties up. That feeling of being with her. That touch. That smile. Those lovely lips. That warmth and the feeling of tenderness.

That's all. You're done.

Splat!

- Vinaykrishnan.

A Year Of Many Faces.

Another year has passed me by. A year of many highs, lows, and quite a few gray areas as well. I reminisce about what I did, learnt, enjoyed, agonized over, cried over, laughed about, shared, viewed, understood, assimilated, taught others - and I am amazed. It rocks me to my core.

I changed jobs, made new friends, learnt new things inside and outside of work, visited new places, saw wondrous sights that I had never dreamt of, got a couple of tattoos, got scolded over these and laughed at over these, and also admired for these.

I saw new movies, heard new genres of music, met people who dreamed like me, met people who dreamed differently, met people who lived to match their dreams, and some who outlived their dreams.

I drank till I passed out, drank till I was the last man standing, I have enjoyed countless conversations on life, philosophy, music, work, debated over India and its problems, politics, books, movies. I have socialized on the internet, and in the real world, and have realized that I like the latter better.

I learnt to be a better writer, fostered hope that someday now I can be bigger than what I am. I left behind a lot of luggage, am carrying some, and will carry even more as I grow older. Not wiser, maybe.

I have hugged unknown people, danced with known ones, travelled with friends, travelled to meet friends, travelled to meet my loved ones. I have reached a whole new level of understanding with my family, and at this level, there are a lot of new complications, but a lot more love and sincerity.

I learnt how to live life unabashedly, learnt to love unconditionally, learnt to wait eternally, learnt to give openly, learnt to hug till the other person stops and I have cried over many matters, some trivial, some monumental.

I hope I have a year like this every year of my life. I hope I get most of what I want in the new year. I hope I don't get some of it, just to keep things balanced. I hope I learn more in this beautiful world. I hope I grow to be a better man. I hope I get love from the most unexpected of quarters, and I hope to learn to love what I already have even more.

I hope.

- Vinaykrishnan.