hi

aloha
I just started adding stuff to my blog, so it may be chronlogically reverse. For someone who has walked into, created and survived the shittiest situations, i need to put this somewhere.Y'know like exorcism. Hence read upwards from down.

2005, an Indian decided to write a diary

Unlike hordes of celebs, I have no glint in my eyes when I resolve. The last year I've seen and done things, which I never resolved to do in the first place, so shall I resolve to include unresolved things as well? I have a problem resolving, I need help.

I was a high-ranking government official with the disaster management team when the 26/7 floods happened and I stayed home and saw what it did. They tried, I tried. Our roof wasn't leaking, but I saw you floating about in the water, cold and blue. I remembered what I had tried to do with the tsunami victims, I saw them being thrown out of remand homes by another set of victims, who still thought they possessed something beyond the outcast despite having lost everything.

I thought about the loss of property after that, I remembered splitting the empire with my younger brother. The media tried to make a Sooraj Barjatya movie out of it and we become a spectacle.

Then I joined the cop-land and I posted drunken cops around to rape anything that walks, little girls like my daughters and women like my wife. Then I posted them elsewhere and they started beating couples who came for a private moment in their park. Now I had a problem understanding what defined compromising positions, but then again, who better than our indulgent cops to ask. This was before I got offended by Sania Mirza and Khushboo's thoughts on premarital sex (no sex only rape!)

That's when I decided to go get a drink and saw familiar waitresses around. Although they were newly employed, I am confident they used to be more livelier than this, they used to dance and serve us liquor.

I saw my friend butchering his girlfriend with a brick on her head, because he wanted to run away with her and she didn't think so, so he sent her home headless. I found it silly because they were in college and I'm still trying to find out why we think that life is a movie.

I thought I'd switch to BPOs when an employee was raped and killed by her driver. Then, I decided to get into politics through the BCCI board when one of the main guys had problem with the cricketer, they played him like a snooze ball, in-out-in-out.

After which I retired from my spectatorial, nay, voyeuristic occupations and celebrated Christmas. That was when they lay wreaths on seawater and the best photographer won an award. I've just come to know that I've been nominated for .oh! So have you and billions of others for the perennial best citizen. But, I have a problem, like I said when I began, help me resolve. As night becomes day, my head inhabits a million cries, screams and blasts that don't let me resolve.

Glow

Glow


2000 years ago - then

And behold there lay the savior glowing in all it's purity, tiny hands
and legs waving in the air like each limb had a life of it's own .

now - christmas eve

I'm walking down the street with a mission in mind and hand . My hands
jammed into pockets my cheeks go numb my eyes moist and I walk briskly
like a drifter .

Then
She rested her head on one of the poles that held the stable together
, postpartum bliss . An index finger from tiny fair reddish palmed
stretched out amidst horns , tails, straws and a dangling lantern .
Her smile widens , she's ecstatic as she stares at her world that lay
in that small stack of hay .

NOw
At every nook and corner in some Bandra lanes you're greeted by a
concrete garlanded cross , like while your lost in this maze of lanes
you are constantly reassured …that you are indeed lost. At a church a
crowd stands in an array and children run around the altar and the
aisle amidst a roar that emerges from the congregation's gut and
accompanied by a background church organ .

The breeze blows harder , the church roar is jarring , but I have to
walk through this chilling fire , I have a mission. The load on my
back makes me look like a gypsy .

72 million kms above the earth as the planets gazed upward, at the
zenith something twinkled .

A woman feeds a child in her lap as I turn left into a lane , dogs
relieve themselves on posters . A havildar scratches his itch. Halfway
into this I feel the strength 50 times more motivated to do something
similar as to what I'm about to do . But with great power comes great
responsibility , who am I ?

I'm freezing.

Then

It glowed and kept glowing intensely , the shining rock grew like it
sprouted downward brightly pointing into the earth , and intrigued
three men on camels .

Now
I step into the colony , the breeze is still strong and now my skin
stretches over my bones I look like a 'before' case in a skin
moisturizer cream ad . The masses roar to a decibelic zenith in
distant churches , it's jarring and it's noisy . I approach the watchman's cabin.

His cheeks are sucked into his twisted face that protrudes outside his
towel scarf. Earlier, whenever I came he'd be sipping on masala chai in a
plastic packet. Somke a beedi, open gate - close gate. To speak of his fitness level- this man'd palpitate if he tried chasing a thief, the colony would fear for his safety, and thank god no one's broken in.

Then

The three men traverse through the biting desert cold at night to
reach a celestially indicated stable . Their camels are heavy laden
and are also in deep conversation amongst themselves .
Camel 1:"you get that special feeling, like we're about to discover something?"

Camel 2:"are you talking about She camels ?"

Now
I try not to disturb him in his sleep as I climb over the wall and
creep slowly , no big effort. The church bells and noise get to me,
but it's softening down . I walk slowly behind cars and to his small room, my heart is hammering , I
push the big bundle of roll into his room on the floor , leave the
door ajar . Lean left , he's sleeping outside on a chair . While
leaving I turn around to look at him once again sleeping in the lap of
a cold wave , "but only tonight" I tell myself .

Then
She looks at him now looking at three additional faces. Gold, Myrrh
and Frankincense are offered to the cherub.

Now
As I walk back now I'm warm, I feel it and I know it's from him also
whom I've affected . But now there is no roar, the church bells are a
distant ringing but the breeze has decoded the roar and my mouth curls
up when I hear the second line of that carol…

"All is calm all is bright."

A million prayers resonate inside me like whispers far away .
I feel it stronger now as I walk , I saw it in him too … the glow .
The music is sweet and it's elevating . Dry leaves blow in the night
wind , rickshaw drivers sleep twisted in their seats , there are no
stars in the sky and it's beautiful .

"To you I offer these gifts lord , for thy shall be called …" and they
went on to name the baby for us , but she looked up at the brightest
star , and somewhere else in some other time a child looked out from
his window into the street .She mumbled in amazement as she looked at
the infant saviour, "hope" , the child looking out the window at me
said "Santa" .

Few days ago I sat with a watchman sipping tea he got me as I waited
for a friend of mine , he saw me in a t-shirt. it was freezing .
Somewhere in Israel 2000 years ago a virgin mother felt her pregnant
belly rumble. The old shivering blanketless watchman rubbed his arms
looked at me and asked " Aapko thanda nahi lagta ?

My Amoebic dysentry

The other day I was fighting shaolin warriors on the PSP when a boy of about 12 (yeah molestable) like the many who're busy geting lost in Landmark Store struggled to work up the game Yuvraj singh 2006 on the X-box 360. I'm not much into sports gaming myself, besides Brazilian ring football, that one is short and sweet I aways feel like i'm in those ads with Ronaldo. I showed him the controls and the rest he'd pick it up himself and ade a general conversatin that not many people want to play 'that' game anymore. The kid read my mind somewhere and said
"I guess we are overreacting to the world cup loss. We over react at everything."

"Nah, we're just being ourselves." I comforted him.

He took his favourite player Dhoni and hit couple of sixes with difficulty. It got smoother later with Yuvraj singh, but the team lost the match. He luaghed at himself and started the game all over again.

"It's the same feeling kids go through when they walk home after they've scored low marks or flunked. They get suicidal thinking about the parental reaction." he continued playing.

It's funny that we hear the most unlikliest things from the unlikliest mouths.

I don't think our reactions has anything to do with our overemotinoal nature or media's Mr Hyde-like sensationalist conquering alter ego. I think it's the heat. Humidity brings the most irrittable side out of us. If you examine peripherally the worldcup loss and the temperature hike besides the humidity hike happened around the same time. In such a situation a government like ours is likely to get bored and frustrated so from their inability to do anything constructive they embark on a stupid rampage of banning sex education ("Kids get educated from our home made family films by the Bhatts and the Chopras!") in schools and re-employing a lot of drunken cops to chase away a lot of couples. Because they think lying in each others arms and enjoying the sunset is a lot less decent than spitting and peeing on the road. I heard a man mumble "Just when I thought I should spend more time with my wife than at Kamathipura, these guys drive me back to routine."

Meanwhile ...

Cho seung was a very quiet and quite pissed off chap. I guees everyone who was watching American Idol was. There's nothing more irritating than watching an irritating singer hog headlines by staying on a paultry reality musicalTalent (ugh!) show. Mr Malakkar or any other Maharashtrian would hog headlines in Mumbai even if they've cleaned public toilets in Detroit with their barehands in record time. They'd be crowned 'Commode-us'.

So Cho seung unlike the ones who went on a fast, went to the grocery store and got eggs besides a handgun. Alas he didn't know the torture would end three days later when Malakar would get voted off. So he blew it.

If we had a lesser threshold of tolerance towards mediocrity there would have been a thousand Cho incidents when a nasal singer's movie went to the Berlin film festival besides his HIT songs.

As critics speculate on the U.S gun policy and try blaming video games for the 17985th time besides Oliver Stone or Gus Vant Sant making a film on High School Dementia, Cho's rage rests within him and the tape and in the bullets he fired.

The heat however is working its way up1 ouy of 4 people suffer from Amoebic dysentry and they don't know it till their loo becomes their bedroom.The heat will make us rape, or beat the shit out of, kids and women. It will make directors make movies like Shaka laka boom boom, it'll drive reporters to hang from cable wires suspended from choppers and catch Big B remove his wig or Small B gift wrap Umrao Jaan for wedding crashers. It'll make random women to follow news agencies advises on slashing wrists outside someone's wedding.

They got married, KBC ended, our power cut begins, Tushar, Bobby, sunny and upen will continue to waste their time acting. Rakhi will become Ramu's new protege (easy casting for horror flicks) if not MF hussain's muse for Maa Kali goddess .

I won't go to the doc for my dysentry problem which makes me write like this. Neither will any of you who'll digest all of this when you normally wouldn't.