Date Night

Dates. They are a social occurrence. Everyone in the 21st century follows the ritual. Well not everyone - men/women who are too scared of conservative families, men/women who think it is a waste of time, men/women who think they are not date-worthy, men/women who simply think they are far highly placed in society to follow a "flimsy" ritual such as dating.
Anyway. So dates are these things that happen, albeit consciously. You make them happen. But the interesting thing is what happens on a date. I have a date today. So do I take her to a good restaurant and chat her up over a four course meal? Or do I take her to the beach and walk down the stretch with her while chatting? Or do I go to some crappy movie and crack jokes about how bad the movie is?
I like going on dates (I've been to numerous because of my liking for dates) because there's a thrill to it but it is always such a pain to decide what should be done in a date. I wish all girls would like sitting in a pub and drinking and listening to music and chatting. It's nice. It's very stress-less. I mean what's the big deal in impressing someone with a picture-perfect setting? She got to like you and you got to like her just the way you are. Why do I need to put up a charade of being this perfect gentleman when I've flaws that'll be out in the open soon enough?
Well that's my take on date nights. Others will disagree. There are all these internet sites and guide books that tell you all about perfect dates. The dos and don'ts of relationship management. I just don't get 'em. I carry forward my dates my way.
Anyway, adios! See you after my date ;P

The story of a bastard who did something stupid

There's this angst and pain. It's funny that it's there because I have no idea why it exists. I mean, shouldn't the one I have hurt feel the angst and the pain? No one did anything to me. I am the chilled out bastard who did something stupid and broke a heart. Yet I'm the one feeling the pain. Funny. Very funny.
Do you know of this acute pain in the heart that has no physical or biological reason? It just exists there like a knot that you can't digest and neither can you vomit. Very amusing this feeling is. You won't know what I'm talking about. After all you aren't a bastard who did something stupid, did you? So anyway just try and feel that knot I'm talking about and you'll understand what I mean. I mean if it would have been physical then the pain would recede a bit and then surge in a bit everyday from time to time. But this pain just stays constant. It's degree neither decreases nor increases. Very funny you know.
What's more amusing is that the pain is there all the time. In every waking moment of my oh-so-cool life I feel the pain. That's not so cool now, eh? And even though I find it funny why do I feel like crying, huh? I mean shouldn't I smile more at a funny thing? Shouldn't I laugh more if I'm amused? Feels like a paradox, doesn't it?

A melee of thoughts...inane, confused, worthless

There are these moments when you just sit and stare at nothing in particular. Anyone who comes across you thinks you are just lazing around. But actually your mind is working faster than anyone can imagine. It takes just a single thought to spiral the "supposedly" idle mind to a melee of thoughts. You might just be thinking of a cup of coffee that leads you to think about a certain show. Soon you think about a particular character of the show doing some inane action that leads you to think of a friend who does inane stuff. Thereafter, you think of another friend who is close to the previous friend and from there you think about a place that you might have visited with these friends. And then your phone interrupts you and the mental Godard film comes to an abrupt end like the actual Godard films.

a maze called mumbai...

Braving the maze and pushing through the density I make my way everyday. Feeling lost was never an option because it is easy to drift away in the haze of this massive maze. A watchful and observant eye always keeps you in the right direction of your everyday path. A careful search leads you into the right site. An eye and a common sense become your best friends in this confusion. I felt like an entity or an individual without any need for support when I got used to the density of the confusion. I felt I could do anything without yearning for help. After a few days it feels serene and calm. Almost a rhythmic flow of life has set into my veins and I do not panic within, about the next step I should take for the crisis that I'm facing. I take a breath and go about sorting things even while enjoying the soothing rhythm playing in my veins. I guess that's what everyone says about Mumbai. It's a confusing maze and can be scary for a newcomer but slowly and steadily it tucks you into its beautiful lull that you shall cherish forever.

Confessions of a tortured soul

It hurts to feel
It hurts to touch
It hurts to soothe
To express this much

At the brim it is calm
Soothing and straight
Turbulance wrecking beneath
Sinkin with weight

Hard to breathe
Tough not to
Feeling the dead
Tough to rue

Seething and screaming
Helpless with angst
Holding on the strains
Pushing to fret

Deafening clamour
A surging uproar
Nirvana for Buddha
For me hell to the core

Idiots know BEST....

I watched Raju Hirani’s 3 Idiots, first day first show, at Star theatre. It was an awesome ride for 3 hours. There was entertainment, there was substance, and there were sparks that set the heart and mind on fire. But once you are in bed having reached home after the show there are a few feelings that remain which make you ponder about the film more than all the fun and entertainment of the magic of the big screen.

Anybody could be Raju Rastogi or Farhan Ansari. Their story could be anybody’s story. But what about Ranchhordas Shamaldas Chanchad? Or should I say Phunsukh Wangdu? He is unique and to some extent quite implausible. It’s not so easy to make one person impersonate another through school as well as college and go uncaught. It’s tough. Very tough.

But setting aside the absurdities that any film can showcase let us talk about some of the realities that films present. The extreme guts, nonchalance and indifference that Rancho or Phunsukh has exhibited in the film can only come when you have no liabilities in life. It stems in the fact that ‘I have nothing to lose’. And unlike Raju or Farhan you rarely get to see a Rancho in real life. I agree that he had the responsibility to complete his own education for the sake of his master’s son. But would he really lose something in life if he failed to go through with it. Whatever he was achieving was for the sake of someone else. And whatever he wanted to achieve could have been achieved even without going to college because he himself felt that the prevailing education system was not teaching him anything new. So for him a School Leaving Certificate or a Degree in Mechanical Engineering was of no value. Hence, it was quite easy for him to rebel; quite easy to repeatedly show the audacity of trying to teach the Director of his college how he felt the education system should be. So although you and I can laud him and clap for him whenever he pulled out a stunt with his Director or with the naturally obnoxious Chatur Ramalingam (guys like him do exist; I vouch from personal experience), you and I cannot rebel against ViruS. The reason: We need the degree otherwise hell will break lose in our middle-class homes where our parents slog day and night to make it possible for us to go to college and we hardly need to care about our sustenance.

Yes, we can try to commit suicide like Raju or Lobo when caught between crosshairs in our academic life or try to convince our usually unrelenting parents to follow our calling in life like Farhan but rarely can we keep trying to change the system when we are threatened by ViruS’ counterparts of being rusticated. Sad, I know, but so very true.

That’s why whenever people like Chetan Bhagat, Raju Hirani or Aamir Khan try to show what we go through and show it close enough to reality we laud their books, films and portrayals. Their creations become our means of rebellion. We lead a silent crusade behind the safe armour of their creations to voice our own opinions. But does that mean we are cowards? NO. We simply prioritise our responsibilities towards our families and therefore silently crusade against the prevailing competitive spirit by supporting Bhagat’s, Hirani’s and Khan’s attempts at portraying reality even though helplessly most of us take part in the rat race.

We discussed......

The clouds were hiding the evening sun. It seemed later than it actually was. A shadow cast through the door generated a cool reflective feeling. The cushion rested against my back. My mother lay on the divan.
I was amazed at how much I had grown up. I was struck at how responsible I felt. I was surprised how coolly I thought and expressed. We talked like we never had before. She didn't stop me once from speaking the way I did. She didn't have anything contrary to say to the way I felt about love, relationships and marriage. Of course she thought that the idea of not marrying ever was ridiculous but she didn't dwell upon it for long.
On the other hand I was so cool at expressing what I felt. Not for once did I fear what she or my dad would feel about the opinions I had on some important facets of life. Not for once did I hesitate to speak up. I just kept saying what I felt honestly. I heard what they had to say. We didn't argue for once. We did what I had asked for a long time. We discussed.