A Space For My Head

Half a cup of Tea - A young friend ( unedited )

2010-12-07T04:07:00.000-08:00

As the night was setting its mood I could see a cluster of lights of all the hues shining on the ranges , though the fog over the hills was making these lights blur. In the narrow streets I could smell the aroma of freshly cooked rice , rum and meat from the houses and restaurants which were flanking these narrow streets. I was hungry , tired and myself . The oriental music on the streets or the prayer gongs were no more soothing the mood as I was desperately looking for a home for night.

After walking for around 10 minutes I saw a shop “Asia's Best Chai”. As I entered I saw a table waiting for me the only table in the shop . The walls were made up of dried bamboos and the half rusted tin roof rested on bamboo pillars dug in the uneven cement flooring .Amidst the loud noise of stove I heard a voice “ its cold today , see on the mountains , the snow fall (1) ”. He was a Boy almost half my age almost 5 feet tall, fair complexion , dressed up like any boy of his age in the metros . A nike sweat shirt with a hood , tight fitted very low waist jeans and all star fleets, lean for amount of clothing he had . Sparsely placed hair on his face showing early signs of puberty.His lower jaw was positioned slightly above the average position which made his lower lip slightly more visible than his upper lip and this was slightly affecting accent of his recently acquired english skills.

Pumping the stove more vigorously he smiled at me and said “Sir ….Special Chai ?” . I nodded my head in affirmative. All the while when he was preparing the “Asia's Best Chai” , he kept telling a lot of stories. How immigrants have encroached the area ? How business is affected due to Bandhs for free tibet call ? To how he had with a German lady while supplying her Baba”cannabis” in a rave party last year ? By the time he was telling me the story of how a local hotel was raided during last new year celebration my tea was ready , interrupting the story in between he asked candidly “ anything to eat sir”and yes I was hungry .

Looking at my backpack he curiously asked “are you looking for a place to stay “ . I stopped munching on the sweet rusks , taking a sip of the tea I again nodded my head in affirmative. He smiled at me and said “ why are you angry isn't the tea good? Or are you not liking the stories?” I thought like a cynic “Am I entitled to be judged by a small boy who hardly crossed his teens or I have lost the joy of conversation , living in the cities of silence ?” . Somehow a genuine smiled cracked at the corners of my lips “ whats ur name ?” . “Shivam” .”well Shivam , tea was good as good as your stories” . He smiled at those words and was about to tell me another story . The cynic in me questioned " is that smile and the stories are expected to result in loosening my wallet for a tip”.Its surprising How a man asks for hapiness and smiles around him in his prayers and when there are smiles he doubts them.

By the time I finished my tea and he finished the stories the shops on the street were closed .He counted the change he had earned in the day and placed few coins in piggybank while keeping a part of his sales with him . He took a pack of rusks while closing down the shop.

It was ten PM at night . As we exhaled it was visible on the street .There were Dogs barking on the streets ferocious ones fighting for the littered food on street. He threw the pack of rusks for them and all of those ferocious creatures started running towards us. “ hold on they never bite anyone” the boy said looking at me . I freezed at my place till the dogs savoured the rusks and then moved on .
A futile thought crossed my mind “ is it okay following the directions of a stranger boy ? May be he ties me up with his accomplices on a pine tree and will run away with my belongings ?”. With a rucksack carrying clothing for next two days , a shaving kit , a few rupees , less than what the boy earned in a day and a good book to read I didn't had much to loose , made me smile . There are only a few moments in life when you are happy having a smaller baggage, this was one of them. When you have a smaller baggage you climb quickly and trust easily.

"Its just around the corner and don't tell at home that I smoked “ he told me while puffing a ciggarette hastily ….....
….. TO BE CONTINUED

copyright(2005) virender vyas

Arth

2010-10-07T00:30:00.000-07:00

Raatri shunya,hridya dhwast,
pratham sparsh,prem spasht !

Hasth, kesh, netra ,adhar,
ab nahin prabuthva main!

Pratyek kshan samast bhaav,
aa rahe aavesh main !

Pratyek preher pravesh ka,
ahlaad aaj aa raha !

Shvaash mukt , praan bhang,
anand main samaa raha!

Aalingan ki chingariyon se,
abheesth aaj vibhatsa hai!

Gati ko tu prapt veer,
marm aaj spasht hai !

Aaj sparsh kaal ka,
prem ka sandesh hai!

Ab prem or bad raha ,
jab shvaas ek shesh hai!!

Rastra prem,karma bhumi,
aalingan abeesth karm se!

Ho gaya yudh-bhoomi main,
parichay aaj marm se !!

gati ko tu prapt veer,
marm aaj spasht hai !!

arth ka sandharbh bhi aur marm bhi aaj spasht hai

- Vyas (c)

copyright(2005) virender vyas

Half a cup of tea - (random)

2010-09-24T21:42:00.000-07:00

I was a little late for the early prayers. The Sexagenarian lama nodded his head looking at me,and said “ You are Late”. His voice had the characteristic of transmission Wires, humming with high voltage and for a moment resonated with the vibrations of my heart. The expressions on his face were of a learned scholar , perhaps he knew more than my late arrival he actually knew “I was Late”.

I stood there in the silence, feeling the warmth of the wooden floor, the fragrance of incense sticks,the compassion in the air . In front of me was a brass statue of Buddha sitting blissfully between heaps of Bourborns, Pringles, Sugar candies decorated in stacks. I gazed at every corner of the big hall ,the golden yellow Robe of Budhha , the traditional paintings on yellow silk, the gigantic Gongs and brass horns, arrays of light from the butter candles, wrinkles on the face of lama and a staircase leading towards an Attic. There was a sense of overwhelming peace inside and outside me. After offering my silent prayers I chose to step out of the temple.

The view outside was slightly hazy with a dense fog surrounding the Monastery. Sun was about to set , the sky was cold with the silence. As I stepped out from the gate of temple and entered the flea street wet with rains there was a new culture waiting for me , an old Tibetan lady in the background of steam emanating from aluminium vessel selling dumplings , People sipping coffee under the open sky and puffing smoke, Shoppers bargaining for antique looking stuff – colourful marbles, turquoise
stones, jewellery made from stones and metals of all hues, people reading advertisement posters on the wall – Meditation classes, Reiki classes, music classes , new year eve party and the message of FREE TIBET with a back drop of yellow, blue and red rays emanating from Sun. There were people on street - white , black , brown and not so vivid shades of these colours. A German bakery crowded with Israeli people. Black coffee with white sugar .Flavors on the table - Apfelstrudel,Schwarzwaldkuchen,noodle soup and flavours from Tibet. Sounds on the street – Oriental music ,chanting of mantras, rotating prayer wheels ,Honking of horns, hush-hush from conversations.

And I arrived for a new departure .

P.S : Gives me immense pleasure to be back AGAIN on my blog. Thanks for your support friends.

copyright(2005) virender vyas

Half a cup of tea -15 ( Inbox)

2009-09-14T01:52:00.001-07:00

watch out this space soemething coming soon .

Half a Cup of tea (interlude)

2009-09-14T01:32:00.000-07:00

I don't have some old letters preserved in the corners of room to read and revive
the memories of time spent with her , nor i have her pics but one sketch made
on a piece of tissue in a coffe shop .The blotted ink on that piece of paper reminds me
it was raining that day and she was in her best of moods , playing with her green hair
clip,clutching it into my arm and laughing everytime i complained it hurts .

On nights like this when its raining outside,when i gaze out of the window
and a gentle breeze gushes in my room ,when i call her number but i get no reply
there's this feeling that i can't explain .Only three simple words “I miss her”
i miss her more than ever.Everytime you miss someone,there's this feeling
that makes you do things that you start missing them even more.I read all
conversations we ever text to each other,and its an amazing feeling going back
in time,peeling off the layers and looking at the seed of love buried deep down
in your heart,and sometime piled under the numerous messages in your cellphone.
Feeling the same excitement you felt when you text her the first time and keep
looking at your cellphone for the next few hrs,waiting for that beep ..

continued ...

Half a cup of tea - (Chapter -17) I met her sorrow

2009-01-14T09:04:00.000-08:00

It was 2 am in the morning , what most of us would say the middle of the night.
I was lying there on a cold numb floor looking at the cieling of my room. The thoughts
were crawling fast on my mind , that time i never sensed it was cold and whole of my body was going numb. "Will she ever love me the way people get loved?”
She was deep in slumbers in the other room . All this time i was thinking about this silhouette lying in the other room , a svelte , silhouette who was all about love for me.

I took a Marlboro and dragged the fag . Not really smoked but tried to puff some rings out of the smoke.In the smoky dark things were not certain to me , about this relationship if I could call it one .And here he was lying , Atharv, still like his name with a bunch of maddening emotions within .
She had wished me a gudnite and some sweet dreams some two hours back .I was still thinking the same thing. “ should I have kissed her a gudnite ? should I have hugged her a gudnite ? should I have gazed in her lovely deep eyes ?”
In the middle of all this , when I was oblivious of my surroundings . She came through the aisle inbetween and said “You have insomnia or its just the ciggi that keeps u awake ? “ she said sarcastically smiling . I didn't let the wonderful feeling go away
“ well I have other pretty things keeping me awake" , I said looking at her eyes mischieviously. She looked into my eyes and said “ well i'm kinda loosing sleep these days too” .
“ I hope its not me,though I will wish for it” I mummbeled jumbelled with some laughter springing in silent room.
“ And about your sleepless nights,I know its me, but its not something I wished for” there was a melancholy in her voice this time. She kissed me on my cheeks for the first time ever and went to the other room draping herself in a wollen shawl.
“ sometimes u want something, well you get that something ,but then at that moment somehow you can't hold that something” she said and walked away .
And that was the first time I got to know about her pain , though oblivios of wat it was,
and I thought to myself “ I want to heal her sorrow” .

Half a cup of tea -4 (Atharv @ 21)

2008-12-30T00:42:00.000-08:00

( 6 months before meeting Tinkii)
When he was born things were different .No cries in the labor room , no waking up in
the middle of night to bug his parents . Thats How he got this name Atharv. Tharv in sanskrit means something that is unstable prefixing an A makes it the opposite “stable” .And here he was 21 yrs later hoping in the pubs at the new city he had landed into. Had grandma been alive at the moment she would have rechristened her to Tharv. If there was some word to describe the fellow it was “canvas fucking procrastinator” . He was a professional artist who entered into realms of modern art which he proudly hung in his 1 and a half bedroom apartment at chembur . Professionaly he was an art director for a media house.Why he decided to be an artist is another story . Procrastinator is a tag attached to him since his school days he wouldn't complete the homework and assignments which he thought useless back in school . So on one such occassion to rescue his hands from the wrath of a blaster cane , he participated in one drawing competition and emerged as the artist numero uno . That was the day he decided he'll take up this canvas fucking job as his career. Back in his senior school days , when puberty was playing with the hormones of the body , the artist in making was working hard . He had sketch of every beautiful gal in his school with and without clothes . He was a master in making the nude sketches and was in much demand with his pals .And parents thought the boy is talented. After finishing his school he went to study fine arts and graduated with “ flying colours “ . Every graduate of fine arts passes with flying colours for that matter.
Atharv was the only son of his parents . Everybody at home wanted him to be a Doctor.But he could not think of messing up cadavers with the scalpel . “artist are noble than doctors , doctors get life to someone little less of it , and artist get lifeless things to life” he would say always after screwing up in his Pre-Medicals. Only his mom could feel proud of an artist son . Though his father beleieved he was still a kid and it will take another decade when he realises his potential and moves to something productive .His dad was a govt servant working in a bank like most of the indian middle class people.
Now at 21 Atharv was living out of his home for almost 4 years and 7 months .
First four years graduating and seven months into a job as an Art director . He would miss the greens back at home. often at weekends .He would stand at the balcony of his home early in the mornings which gave a view of high rise buildings and yellow and black taxis raging on the flyovers . He would stand here and feel the chill of winters and used to mention it to his roomie “ The patio is good for nothing , no wonder modern art is appreciated in metros , for the beauty of nature can't be appreciated by those who haven't seen . We always appreciate the things here which belongs to us “ he will shut the door and switch on travel and living on his TV his favourite channels to watch on.
He had small hands with sharp fingers , perfect for holding paint brushes though small for a man of 5 feet 8 inches . He had a robust personality with broad shoulders , upright structure jet black hair cut short like military cadets . A clean shaven guy who was often seen in the rags for a jeans and plain kurtas like most artists in town . Though he was much a fashion honcho who will not hesitate to spot monocolour shirts from any colour in spectrum with any rock n roll figure on them a real digger for music he was .

-- TO BE CONTINUED
P.S Typos i know i suck at typing on my archaic keyboard

Half a cup of tea -3 ( Reverbrations )

2008-12-29T08:25:00.000-08:00

It was still a perfect winter of hills.I was puffing black smoke to my lungs.I sometime
feel guilty when i smoke.For fucking my lungs and polluting the clean foggy greens with the black soot containing chemical conglomeration of death or may be pursuitless hang.
With half a cup of tea and a half smoked ciggarette i was looking at the green hills in front of me.The same hills which symbolized optimistic romanticism were sort of standing like renegade of any term which has romance in it . Still the air was fresh .And then i let out a shout in the silent hills “Eureka “ and i was taken back to the roads i travelled once .

It was almost 7 hrs we were travelling in the same bus but still i didn't know much about Tinkii. Only two facts Tinkiii was beautiful , and i was may be slipping. “hey .. have you ever watched trainspotting “ i said abruptly waking her from slumbers so beautiful .
She woke up slowly yawning .”no never watched but did a lot. Neways are you into drugs” she asked like she really thought i was high on something or may be mischiveously ,giving a slight hint of smile. “ No i'm high on something else“ i said giving a sheepish smile . She took out a container which looked like cookieman , from her louis vitton and offered me ”Are they baked in LSD or marijuana ? “ i asked taking a cookie in my hand .
“ no my oven “ she replied with a sense of wit and confidence in her tone.
The taste of cookies was gud except for the buttery smell and a tinge of salty flavour .
“ i never had something like this “ . “ yes they are homemade cookies and the receipe is
not usual indian “ she said like she was some cookie baker in the town . “ i bet u must have watched chocolate “ i said taking another cookie out of the box. “ yes Depp is such a darling can't miss him in any movie Finding Neverland is my favourite “ she said licking a cookie like it would be Johnny Depp fried in olive oil . “ i bet he is on drugs , thats how he performed so well in Blow just like the real drug mafia” i said displaying my knowledge about things that were may be interesting to her.
After travelling for long our bus was finally taking sharp turns on the hills with a thick layer of fog surrounding us . There was a sudden halt and passengers stopped for the dinner . With the cookies in my guts i was not in a mood to have some food, but sure i
was hungry to talk to her som more . “ Do you precisely remeber when was the last time u did star gazing ? “ i asked pointing towards a sky with some patches of stars and some patches of clouds , and a crescent moon . She wrapped herself in a shawl and put on the hood of her sweat shirt . Raising her shoulders near her head she let her hands inside the pockets of that jacket . “ not exactly but i think , i will next time “ and smiled thru the hood in a chilly night . We sat in a corner looking up in the sky , showing each other constellations and silly shapes formed out of clouds . “Thats like a mickey mouse “ .“ This one looks like jerry “ "This is like popeye's biceps” She was like a kid who tuned into cartoon channel after a long . And i responded with a smile to everything she said .
“Have u ever shouted like your loudest in the mountains and listened to its echo”
I asked her pointing towards the mountain which were barely visible except the shining tops which were clad with snow in this season. “ I think i tried but don't know it was my loudest , give me a word and ill shout loud “ she said . “ well in an expression of archimedes eureka just shout out loud EUREKA , as you have found something” . She laughed for a moment and then cleared her throat , getting her both hands close to her mouth she shouted “ EUREKA” , was barely reverberating in the air . But was beautiful listening to her trying to shout and failing at that. Everyone was looking at us at that moment in awe and surprise. And there we stood laughing at each other .
-- TO BE CONTINUED

Half a cup of tea -2 (Tinkii tsering )

2008-12-29T04:01:00.000-08:00

As we settled in the seats of the bus . I noticed a blue nosepin on the right side of her nose , which was shining whenver bus travelled through a patch of sunlight.She was sitting on window seat. And i was sitting adjacent to her,on my other side was this peculiar person in his mid thirties who was not sparing a chance to look at this beautiful gal.After some 15 minutes of travelling and rambling about the chilling weather i asked her “Your name must be sarika “.
“ Not at all” she giggled .There was this peculiar innocence in her smile rather a laughter. As she was laughing i could see the pearl white teeth spaced consistently . While smiling her eyes became small from the corners and brown iris shined with a glow,her pink cheeks which are charcterstics of ppl from hilly areas protruded from cheekbones while she laughed. She was a fair girl with slightly brown hair with a streak of auburn hair which reminded me of Kate Winslet in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind . Of course the girl sitting besides me was not a punk , streaks suited her gracefully .
“ what made you think i'm sarika ?” she was laughing like i had just told her some joke
from the best jokebook in the world. i just turned to her and with an intelligent smile i started gazing into nowhere and with both the hands brought out in front of me i said “see uhh .. i have this habit from childhood , whenver i see someone the first thing i do is start guessing the name of the person . When i was a kid still in my kindergarten on my 4th birthday my dad gifted me a yellow bus. On the windows of bus were stickers with different faces looking outside . There were almost 10 different faces. I had name for everybody . A girl with spectacles named - Reena . A guy with curly hair - Madhu “
“huh .. so what about me that makes me Sarika “ she started laughing like she has been to a nitrous oxide trip .” Look I dunno the connection here but something about you had a feel of name Sarika , may be your eyes which are brown and bright” I said looking into her eyes for the first time in conversation not loosing the smile on my lips . She closed her eyes getting dizzy from laughing and just patted on the bag which looked like a Louis Vitton but was not “ guess wat ? you are funny ”. she said looking at me .
I looked at the third person sharing the seat on the bus , he was fast asleep and snoring by the time . “i'm sure , i'm not “ i said with a smile reflecting wit and my finger pointed towards the snoring Person.” Btw He's his highness George X1 sleeping in the glory of his kingdom” i announced like im some P.A of this person . I was again sucessful in raising her cheek bones to a smile.

“ My self Tinkii Tsering, and i'm a Tibetean Buddhist so that you don't have to raise eyebrows on my name “ She said forwarding a warm hand for introduction .
“ And i'm Mr. Oh So impressed and an Indian Aethist , ppl call me Atharv for simplicity “ i said marking a moment of humour and warmth. That was the first time i first felt warmth of her hand.

It was still raining and my hands were numb .With the numb hands i took out some coins from pocket for the chaiwallah and asked for an ultra milds and one adrak chai , thinking something may comfort the numbness , i wished it really could.

--- TO BE CONTINUED

P.S cliche` all characters and situations in the story are fictious and have no resemblance to any one dead or alive or zombie .

Half a cup of tea -1 ( Journey back in time )

2008-10-13T10:44:00.000-07:00

It was an afternoon of December , I was driving on the hills after a gap of 14 years,amidst the pines I gained some speed on the curves I was longing to drive . The wiper on the front was coming on and off
And I was excited to be in the place where I spent some 14 years of my life . I turned off the A.C and opened the windows to let the natural cool to calm my head.My destination was still some 100 K.m away.
Soon it started to rain.My eyes were sleepy so I thought of grabbing a cup of tea.There was no sign of any shop even after driving some 4 km or more .

A steep road, don’t know where it was going, was saying to me to take it on, and I did take the unknown road .Playing the melodies from Bob Dylan, which one of my friend gifted me on my 21st birthday.Back then she said “whenever u feel lonely come back to the hills , switch on the stereo of your car,stop by a roadside
Chai wallah and sip half a cup of tea” .
I was through her suggestion but half a cup of tea, but was feeling more lonely thinking all the good times we had here, giggling ,laughing crying on each others shoulders.
Talking on phone whole nights, waking on Sundays to take long walks on the plush green hills.Though we
Were no more than friends but no less than buddies.I used to tell her daily “I love you” she used to giggle
and say “you know you look cute when you say that”.Though saying that everytime was never easy.When you mean words its hard to say. Everyone knew that she was my girlfriend but nobody knew I was not her boyfriend as she never said to me a word of love.
And boy how I met her is another story. It was a crowded bus stand and I was coming straight from delhi, lot of luggage to handle and sleepy eyes. I saw this girl asking people “when is the next bus to manali?”
A beautiful face with an innocent voice .Generally I don’t talk to beautiful gals fearing an attitude of rejection. But something pushed me to say “if you don’t mind traveling in the same bus , which I’m going, there’s a bus right now”. She smiled with a hesitation and let a “thanks” fall from her mouth. Being a courteous man of manners I asked smiling “Any luggage mam ?”.She handed me a heavy bag and said “ I hope you won’t charge me for that “ smiling her best.” I won’t but one’s hardwork should be rewarded properly” I said.
And finally we were in a bus together, I never knew back then that this journey was destined to go so far.

TO BE CONTINUED ....

P.S something close to my heart taking the shape of words

The day that was ...

2008-08-06T06:01:00.000-07:00

It was raining hard , the glass pane of my window was giving hazy look of the pine trees outside ,pine trees clad with the misty snow. Yesterday night was spectacular after snowing for 2 days it was clear sky, and the snow was looking perfect ornament for these hills shining with a crescent moon.There was something else special about the night .It was my last night at that place .it was the last day at college,a place that was my home for 4 years. How it feels sipping tea at midnight hour at someones room with a clan of buddies? of course rocking in such a pleasent weather. But the fear of not meeting again added a note of melancholy to the moments of joy. Sipping the fourth continous cup i was fiddling buttons of my cellphone,trying to look as the moment has no impact on me. But i swear i could not find courage to look into eyes of my buddies, who will soon move away to different places leaving memories of a pleasent time spent together like buddies.
And whoever said BOys don't cry must have taken his words back for some wet collars,and some tear which drip through some cheeks .But still everybody pretending its an usual meeting.
"is it quarter to some time , or quater past sometime ?"
A voice pretending to be happy asked between amoment of silence.
we tried like laughing but a pandemonium of expression creeped through my face ,ususally we laughed at jatin as he used to say that everytime there was silence in the room.But this time i was not finding the perfect expressions for his words.
Jatin used to say that usually when it is quarter past to some time or quarter to some time
everbody embraces silence .a situation between conversation when there are no words to say.
He justified his claim on many moments , but to me it always seemed weird.
jatin of course one of my best buddy's i ever found was of short stature , a fair guy with thick spactacles,never combed his hair probably cause of his receeding hairline.
i met him first in a practical class.
The prof. who took our practical called me in his cabin, i was hesitant to go as my practical files as usual were not complete.There i found a guy standing in front of the prof. .... He raised his eyes and greeted me with a hesitant smile, feeling comfortable in that unfriendly room I replied with the same.

VARUN continues :
Suddenly this silent conversation of ours was interrupted by a laughter which came from a plumpish figure sitting across the table, holding a file. Gaily, he said, “Mr Jatin, I think you are going to be one of the greatest scientists that this century will witness, who can reach to the results without having performed the experiments”. He had, by mistake, noted down the experiments which haven’t been performed yet. I never expected to see a smile on that stolid face, but there it was…. A smile, I thought, could make the ugliest of faces look nice. He turned towards me, and to my luck the phone rang. “Hello,…yes I am leaving, will be there in ten minutes…”, he replied and stood up. Facing me, he said, “I am sure your file won’t be complete as always”. “Just a few diagrams…..Sir…”, I tried to explain. “Ok..ok..”, he replied as if he were eager to leave, “..today I am leaving early. Next time bring your files completed properly.” Nothing could have given me more relief than those words of his. He was considered to be one of the most ruthless teachers, but the things had changed since four days back when his wife had given birth to a sweet baby girl. Babies, I thought, can make this world so pleasant.
By that time we were out of his cabin and were moving towards the lab which was on the other side of the corridor. Before we could start a conversation, our eyes were held by the sight of a bunch of beautiful girls coming from the end of the corridor, they were second year students whom we were always afraid to look at, for the fear of getting bashed by a guy senior who might notice us. But seeing no such intruder around, both of us, in a silent consent, dared to slow down our steps to have a nice look at those beautiful faces. As they went past us, their faces bore partly arrogant expressions, too pretentious to conceal their innocence. One of them, looking at us, and said in an authoritative voice, “I think you should preserve the courtesy of wishing your seniors.” At this Jatin bowed forward mischievously and replied gaily, “Good Morning! Ma’am!”. She reacted as if she wasn’t prepared for it. Both of us smiled looking at each other and the ladies went on leaving behind the aroma of their feminine perfumes.
We entered the lab. There were few who were fastidiously performing the experiments, making sure that each and every reading is noted down properly. Those were the only ones, I thought, who actually took the readings which were carried forward from one file to another…for years. A few were busy writing their files and there were others, the most of them, who were busy gossiping. By that time me and Jatin had already spent a few pleasant, though silent, moments with each other and our friendship had begun to blossom. He said, “Hey dude, yesterday night at 3’o clock I suddenly woke up remembering that I have to write my practical file, which I had been delaying for past three weeks. I rushed out and vainly knocked a few doors with a hope that someone will turn up and lend me his file or at least tell me which experiments were to be written. Having no idea about the experiments which we had performed, at last, I restored to a gamble and noted down the first six experiments from a previous year’s file, which I had managed to sneak out from the lab. But to my bad luck only two of them were genuine.”
Both of us had a nice chat that day and we shared a lot of our schooldays’ experiences.
That evening we again met at the dining table but unfortunately we were in the midst of a group of seniors. Our faces bore partly frightful and partly adventurous expressions, we looked at each other in a vain attempt to get some moral support. Suddenly one of them summoned Jatin to sing a song. Even today, remembering that electrifying performance of Jatin I can’t stop myself from bursting out laughing. It was a hit romantic number from an old Hindi movie which when adorned by his sweet voice and his classical sense of music seemed to be the most sad song that would have ever been composed. I tried hard, but could not hide my chuckle, and suddenly I became the center point of attraction. I heard a partly brusque partly gay voice saying, “ So…you are enjoying it a lot….hmm….It’s your turn now.”
A knock on the door jolted me back to the reality. It was 1:30 in the morning and the rain had slowed down a bit. Rahul, a tall, lean guy with an ever-smiling face entered the room. He had pranks ready for every occasion and many a times was himself the target of a few, on account of his stout muscular stature. I had first met him in a chemistry class, the teacher had not yet arrived. We were sitting on the last bench, both gazing at a sweet girl sitting alone in the adjacent row, engrossed in her own thoughts completely unaware of the world around her. “Wish, we could talk to her.” , I said longingly. “I have an idea.” he replied. “But….”, he did not let me finish and took my hand and within a moment we were in front of her.
“Excuse me”, he said, his voice solemn, “As you know we have to put up with a lot of ragging at out hostel, can you please help me to get out of this fix.”
“Yes?”, she said, surprised, as if she was suddenly brought back to the reality from her dreams. I just wondered what could be the nature of her dreams. “What can I do?”
“One of the most ruthless final year seniors, I don’t know why, he has decided to go after me. Only two days back I had to spend a sleepless night writing down his assignments, and yesterday he came up with a weird kind of order. I will break his neck one day, that’s for sure…”
“What did he say?”
“He asked me to bring something about you, in written, and that also in your own handwriting. I could be anything….a.. a.. anything…. that you may wish to write.”
“What’s his name?”
“A…Amit Sharma”, he spoke out the first name that came into his mind.
And that name banged on my head as a hammer, for I knew that he was her cousin. That was the first time I was able to understand the proverb ‘Little knowledge is a dangerous thing’ to it’s fullest meaning.
She noticed the sudden change in my expressions and asked gaily, “Are you sure?”
“Yes”, he said in a confident voice of a comrade who succeeds in conquering his target.
“Ok!”, she said and reached out for a piece of paper from her bag and started writing, we both stood there watching her beautiful handwriting which was as fragile and feminine as her hand. I was held, mesmerized, by the soundless music of the rhythmic movements of her delicate hand….I wished she would never stop…
She handed over that beautiful piece of art to him and asked, “Is it ok?”
“Yes, thanks a lot”, he replied, “Anyway I am Rahul and he is XYZ”.
“I am Neha, nice meeting you, Have a nice evening,”
The sarcasm in her last four words hit me as the second blow of the hammer, I wondered what she might be thinking of this gangling guy boasting off to break the neck of her dear brother.
And when I brought him back to the reality he burst out shouting, for he was indeed one of the most notorious seniors, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”. “Did you give me a chance to speak?”, I replied. Realising that it’s of no use now, we both stopped, and began contemplating what might happen and what we could do to get away with it. Both of us spent that evening in his room eating biscuits for dinner in order to avoid our visit to the mess for the fear that someone might summon us. We spent that night in apprehension, and the only thing that held both of us together was that beautiful ‘piece of art’ which we went back to, again and again just to feel her presence…..Fortunately nothing happened.
The next day in class we made every effort to evade from any eye-contact with her, but she caught our eyes and ,looking at our numb faces, she said gaily, ”Hi, I hope you had a nice evening yesterday.” And she went out of the classroom, laughing….
“Hey guys, the rain has stopped, let’s go out for a walk.” It was Rahul’s voice, he was standing at the window, which now bore a clear beautiful view of the straight road surrounded by the snow clad pine trees, it was 2’o clock in the morning With a heavy heart, we all took our jackets and moved towards the door. What seemed like an eternity, I thought, was now going to end within a few hours. While walking, I put my arm around Rahul’s shoulder, a thing which always made him uneasy…but this time he smiled back in acceptance.
We walked down the road,..the road engulfed in a deep murky silence…a silence… similar to the one which was present within each one of us…which had by then started to get over us…for everyone was held by a fragile equilibrium…which, a slight spur of emotions was capable to annihilate and break us down to tears….
But, this silence was finally interrupted by a lively, loud laughter coming from down the road. This was Rohit, whom we used to call ‘laughter a mile’, a short athletic guy always full of life, a cadet in soul, had schooled from an Army school. We all saw him approaching, wearing a big jacket which made him look like an astronaut, with a tall guy Vivek. He was walking brisk, as he always did irrespective of the occasion, even when he used to go out for an evening stroll with her girlfriend, It never seemed he was out for a romantic venture with his beloved, it seemed as if he was heading forward to report his commander and can’t allow a minute delay. I still wonder how she used to keep up with his speed.
“Hey buddies, where’s the squad heading towards?”, he said in a lively voice.
“To conquer time”, I replied spontaneously, almost involuntarily, as if I was replying to a question within me.
After a moment had passed, one of us said, ”Let’s go to the ground..”. At which Rohit replied, “Why not have a race…let’s see who reaches there first”
All of us agreed, for that would give us a purpose for sometime and will free our mind from the nostalgic thoughts which by then, had begun to overpower. We ran…with all our valour, to chase freedom, just as school children run out of their classrooms for the games period. But this race was a bit different…the winner would be the loser here…for his purpose would be the most short-lived….

I wished, this race would never end……

P.S I think the real credit to the story goes to the person who really carried it from a vague and senseless starting and gave it a way . Varun one of my pal carried the story from bumpy ride in a college to a smooth end of a run.have captured in the story the line from where varun wrote it .. . Thanks varun .

MAKE ME CHILD ONCE AGAIN

2008-06-17T21:39:00.000-07:00

Running in the circles ,
Digging feet in the ground.
Playing on the seashore,
mama ,look what i have found.
some toys so broken ,
and white pebbles so round.
a whistle of plastic ,
now makes no sound .

In a haste to run ,
forgot first steps to my walk.
speaking on the phone ,
forgot how to face and talk.
Looking for the shimmer ,
i'm lost into this dark.

Mama , hold my hand,
and make me child once again.
rub a towel thru my hair ,
when i come drenched in the rain.
Tear pages from notebook ,
ill make 2 ships and a plane.

Im still runnin in the circles,
trying to fly the paper plane.
praying to my god,
make me child once again .
- Virender Vyas(c)

P.S - keep checking the space for the song based on this post

What it takes to be your man ?

2008-06-04T11:39:00.000-07:00

I'm standing here till you smile ,
Till i take you out of a hurricane.
Have faith love can do wonders,
Beleive this if you can.
Love you as much as you want ,
May be more than anybody Can.
Tell me baby what it takes
To be your man ?

Don't know how to read hands,
And tell what is future's call.
Don't know how to dress like gentleman,
And hold your hands in ball.
But i know how to wipe your tears ,
and hold you when you fall .

I don't promise u big operas,
A gold mercedes and an island,
over a coffe i can play guitar ,
and walk forever holding your hand.

I don't know if im the perfect ,
but i promise i'll be the best that i can.
With all the love i have .
Tell me baby what it takes
To be your man ?

A cliche story

2008-03-03T01:46:00.000-08:00

12/12/1996
Dear Jason

I hope these words of mine find you in the best of health and emotions. It's been three years we exchanged any words . These three years have been a long time for me . I tried writing to you a lot of times ,but something inside just stopped me, "may be you are happy with somebody else ?".I never thought you'll leave me one fine day without saying a word.I tried your no. countless times , sent mails at your official address.I left the city for I never wanted to be here but something got me back here on the same date you left me. You'll be surprised to know that all these years no one has lived there , I can still feel your fragrance in every corner and I miss you.

Every time I listened to your favourite song i turned around and saw you strumming the strings of guitar , singing aloud , but when i tried to kiss your gently playing hands . Everytime i sat for drinks alone in a pub with pitcher of vodka with orange juice , i missed you. Everytime i took shower and forgot the towel , and there was none handing me the towel sneaking in with a mischievious smile. Everytime i had a nightmare , i missed the tight hug which saved me
from all the evil in this world . Countless time i woke up listening tap flowing in kitchen,it was painful not finding you there annoying me with a flowing tap .
I have not slept peacefully in these years without your snores , i miss the rhythm of your snoring chest which was lullaby for me. I miss the times when u rushed for office creating a mess in kitchen , fought with me , but still gave me a gudbye kiss while leaving for office.

Whenever i drive office alone you are not there to annoy me with the rock no's on the stereo turning off my favourite songs , and i miss you.Whenever it rains i hide myself in blanket , the windows keep tossing the ,curtains keep flying , i still wait you'll come and shut the windows and tie the curtains .There are lot of things i want to let you know . But i think somewhere you also know i loved you and i miss you.

luv

Jinny

P.S Yesterday was my birthday and I kept the doors open and lights on . The cake is

still lying on table and the wine still touches the brim of glasses. Candles gave up

after burning for another year.

---------------------------------------

FROM :

Ms Jinny

23 Park street

P.O 456758

###################################################################################

DEPTT OF POSTS :- date 12/12/1996

Ms Jinny

23 park street ,

P.O 457453 .

These letters couldn't be delivered to intended person for long

Our apologies for such a delay .
####################################################################

Dear Jinny , 11/12/1993

Belated happy birthday .I could have told you but i'm writing because i wanted you to remeber me for the rest of your life . We are in a relationship for about 2 years now. But i have not ever acknowledged what you have given me . Being with you gives me all the things i can ask from god.

I know i don't sing well still i annoy you with my hoarse voice , its only you in whole of this world who appreciates my loud voice and i really love when you kiss on my hands playing guitar. You know you look the best with drops falling on your shoulders from the wet hair, and everytime i hide your towel when you go for shower, i love you. I love when you get angry on me for turning off the music , i love the way you pretend to be angry on me and turn your face pout your lips and fold both your hands , you look prettiest in the world.

Evrytime you wake up from a nightmare ,scared turning to me , i feel like holding you in my arms for eternity,and never let you go. Evrytime i wake up in nights and open the tap , i love the way you follow me with your sleepy eyes and feet .I love to carry you in my arms to sleep again . I'm sorry i snore a lot ,but i really love the way you keep your head on my chest , you know its just a part of me now ,and wenever i sleep without you i feel something of me is missing right from my heart . Whenver i'm getting late and you yell at me for creating a mess in your house , i like yelling at you, and wen you cry after the fights we have , i like to kiss the taste of the tears on your cheek.

You know i'm too scared of rains and thunder but i wake up to shut the windows and tie the curtains , i want to let you know i 'll be there to save you from all the evil in this world , and specially like it when you close your eyes and ask me to put my arms around you. I hope the kiss on your ear helps .
You know i love you and will love you always. You are the one and will be always .

luv

Jason

P.S

I'm allergic to this truffle cake but i wait every year for your birthday,wen i get to have this sweetest cake from you. I like this day when you dress up like a princess and try your best to blow the candles , and feel happy like a child . Never stop doing this whole of your life .Love the kid there in you .

---------------------------

12/12/1993
TO ,

Ms Jinny ,
23 Park street ,

P.O 457453

WE ARE SORRY TO INFORM YOU THE SAD DEMISE OF MR JASON IN AN ACCIDENT .MAY HIS SOUL REST IN PEACE.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P.S (my own) :- Though the its a cliche piece but somehow got a great feeling writing it . There are very small things we miss once something gets over , so don't take any small thing for granted, enjoy the beauty of it . Forgive me for the typos :) , i'll keep doing them .

My nth self

2008-02-27T02:12:00.001-08:00

Yesterday i was walking past the fragrance of pages in a book shop
gazing at each title with excitement.It was quarter past 3 in a rather
windy afternoon.I wandered in the street market , hoping to see some new faces new people and new emotions.I don't know what i saw was for real or just another manifestation of thy selves.I know probably some 13,265 people directly or indirectly.A small no. may be. Some i have met for one time in a queue for movie tickets.Some see me daily standing at the bus stop. I see them they see me cars, bikes go between us .We keep standing on opposite sides of road , but don't let a word to fall from our mouth or a hand to wave , a smile keep hidden in heart. But still we know each other.

Then there are some people i know and admire , like the girl who drives everyday in her white zen. Probably she is now a part of my concious memory and i may have fanatcized about her a time or two in my forgotten dreams , but she doesn't know me. What i know of her is she is a student,for last week her driver was driving and she was studying . She carries an apple daily which she munches on the way and she has a striped pullover , colourful i love it. May be she has not seen me a single time.Then there is this dusky beautiful gal with dimples on her cheek , who stands across the road and waves hand and we are happy knowing each other . Then this dude who waits for a cab everyday on station with a comb in his pocket.Everytime his cab is late he pulls out the comb to straighten his few hair, what i think of this guy is , he is a rather funny person who invites good humour on him , looking in the
mirrors of all parked vehicles as he walks by , tucking his shirt nicely every minute till the cab stops in front of him.

And then there are people you don't see . May be because you have been so carried away by the people whose life interest you that you simply ignore these fellows in rather dull shirts or the girls with a brace and pimple on a cheek.
"Excuse me can you take a ticket for me also" she said with such a smile and confidence as if she knows me.
I looked at her in astonishment " hmm .... okay ".( rather dumb expression for a hopeful question)
" Thanks a lot , i have seen you a couple of times at safdarjung bus stand " she said anticipating better expression from me.
" Yeah .. may be ... i live there " i said with expression slightly improving
" By the way i'm Harsha i study fashion at NIFT Hauz Khas" she said with a sense of pride .
" Oh great ... i'm Vyas i work for a MNC in Noida " i said reciprocating in perfect resonance now.
" chalo will catch ya later sometime " she said flashing the smile.
" yeah sure " with that fake accent i replied back.

Next morning a hand waved from the otherside of the road ,it was Harsha . I smiled and the moment i was raising my hand to wave her a bus came at her stop . By the time mr Bald and miss Striped pullover crossed me and gave a sadist look as if i'm not allowed to do that.and i remember it also happened in the dream . And i knew Harsha back then also DEJA VU ?

Next day harsha waved the right hand at me , held the bald man's hand in left hand , and bald man also waved a hand at me . The girl in zen stopped right in front of me. Harsha and the bald man took a ride in the car.Three of them gazed at me and said BYE .That dusky gal is still there and waves hand at me . And now i'm happy in pretence of knowing and being known.

HAPPINESS

2008-02-18T00:17:00.001-08:00

There lived a gardner in a peaceful village .The gardner was not born a gardner . But eventually as he grew up , he developed a liking for flowers and became a gardner. He grew all kind of flowers & Cactus in his garden . He used to be happy , looking atfter the flowers in his nursery. One summer there was a drought in the village and he lost all his beautiful flowers . Everyday he came back home he saw some wilted flowers ,and with heavy heart took out its root so that with the same ground water others can be alive , he started taking some 10 plants daily , and within days his nursery was left with only a few cactus plants . He thought of the loss that occured to his flowers and ridiculed the cactus plant for no signs of sorrow , as the cactus plant was still healthy still cheerful.

The gardner went to the cactus and tried to unroot it . A thorn pierced his finger.He asked the cactus "what i'v done that this all is happening to me ?" Cactus
replied "the flowers were lovely and sweet but needed water , oh man !! they were
just things of beauty , and i who is your true companion, who is there without any water ,thou want to kill me". Gardner replied "But if i dun cultivate flowers , what my garden will look like , with all of you ugly cactus". Cactus replied "the desert of Gibran belonged to my forefathers , it knew of no flowers , the gardner loved my forefathers more than anything , and look how biggeth he made and how happy he was ".Gardner went to this desert of Gibran and with all the cactus in a garden now he is never confronted with sorrows as , his hapiness no more wants a rain .

Words that were said once

2008-02-12T05:45:00.000-08:00

There I was walking on the streets of Delhi in a chilling January afternoon .
The piercing cold breeze blowing through hair in certain direction . Yesterday
she told me , she likes to read these romantic mushy love stories and named a
few books.i was searching for the books wen I saw a florists shop.

Yesterday night she told me about flowers and i was clueless about this bird of paradise ,
the lilies and carnations. I went to the florist and asked him " can u plz introduce me to these
beauties ?" . He told me the name of each and every flower in the shop , and i kept thinking the hapiness she exalts whenever she tells me about something she loves.

Yesterday she told me about the puppy on the street and how she loves to watch them , and there i was feeling her hapiness when i saw this lonely puppy on the street .

Yesterday she told me about some broken bangles,and here i'm feeling sad for
the bangles that lie broken on the street.

Yesterday she told me about this pair of her lovely woolen socks she lost and how
she feels this chilling in her feet every evening,and here i want to say " you loved
those socks doesn't mean u keep your feet numb now forever".

Yesterday she told me there's one colour i can't find , and here i stand ready to
give her all the colours she can ask for .

Yesterday she told me about an emptiness , and here i stand full of love to
fill that emptiness .

Yesterday she told me about a sad ending , and here i'm standing to give her a
hapiness and a new start.

P.S some words u remember through out your lives . These are one of `em

Let It be free My Friend

2008-02-08T02:02:00.000-08:00

Crumpled in my silence ,
Somewhere there's a scream .
Blind eyes staring a sky ,
Somewhere there's a dream .

And let it be free my fren ...
I let it go ..

Clinging to resentments ,
Someone i forgive .
Breathing in this carcass ,
Sometimes i live .

And let it be free my fren ..
I let it go ..

Abandoned of all hopes ,
Somtimes i hold my own hand .
Thinking to forget the times ,
I let slip the sand .

And let it be free my fren ..
I let it go ...

Walking alone in nights,
I keep singing your song .
When u want something so badly,
You don't see right or wrong.

But still i let it go ...
and now let it be free my fren ..

I wake up from nightmares,
and can't sleep again ...
That Dream of loosing you .
Really makes me insane .

And let it be free my fren ..
I let it go ...

It's not so easy quittin ,
Wen your deep in the game . ..
But things have gone so far ,
and nothing looks like the same.

And let it be free my fren ..
I let it go ..

And your white dove u told ,
So far it flew .
and it came back home ,
for it believed in love & in you.

So let it be free my fren ..
I let it go ..
Let it be free my fren
I let it go ...

P.S This is the latest song i composed ..

Berang Titli

2008-02-05T22:38:00.000-08:00

Ek din bheed main mein .
Chala ja raha tha ,
Khush nahin tha jyada.
Hans raha tha ?
Ya shayad dikhla raha tha .

Bheed main ek titli mili,
Udi chand faasle tak fir mudi .
Rang mujh pe fenk ,
Jor se hassi .

Kuch bikhare rang ,
Muthi mai lekar main age bada.
Woh hasti titli dekhne ko,
Main fir wapis muda.

Hatheli pe baitha kar use,
Maine fir ek baar fir hassa.
Ek kahani maine sunai ,
Ek woh sunaati gayi.

Hawa ko pakad ,
Baarish se khel .
Yunhi muskura raha tha .
Goom tha kahin main ,
Na jane kahan ja raha tha.

Ek pal ka sapna tha shayad ...

Neend khulne pe khada tha wahin ..

Pakrne ko aasman main,
Hatheli faila raha tha .
Sookhi si baarish main bheega,
Berang titli uda raha tha.

Of Love , Lemon and Long Island Iced Tea -1

2008-01-30T05:56:00.001-08:00

Its again time of the year we feel a happy high for a reason or the other.
may be in love ? out of love ? in between ? not into shit !

Looking at somemwat clear sky a moon partially hidden behind sm clouds like
some grey spilled on a white canvas .A starry starry night .Breeze which pierces u
smtimes and makes u feel good at other. A red baloon flying some ten feet above
ground level ,and smthing from insides urges you to ask yourselves questions , different for
evrybody . How long is it gonna last ? Is it really wat is called love ? Does she loves me
the same ?Did he notice me in this new dress ? Am i gonna make it ? will she ever
acknowledge what i feel about her ?

I dunno how come so many couples are seen this season , i thought it was not seasonal
in case of humans or is it they were in hibernation and came out of shell with
hormones bursting.

But this piece is for those people who asks questions like . Is it gonna be Dry
day too that day ? See if you are in this city , the weather of this city make you
connousier or guzzler (the same thing) for one reason or the other particularly at this season.
Either you feel cold or cold lonely u feel like having a drink. You want to be happy high
just like heart shaped red baloon you saw on street .

If you want to get a happy high feeling its not very easy here . I remember
same time of year a year back. I met a college junior of mine , he came to this city
with a hope in his heart and dope in his pocket. A drink was the best way which seemed
to both of us . That junior of mine looks much younger than his age though he always
likes to be with women much more than his age.So we went for a drink in one of best
places to have a drink, we were seated nicely in the place , we were given
menu. Though when we saw the menu there was not a sigle fosters mentioned on the
menu , becuse it was not the bar menu . We asked the waiter “ Can you get the bar menu ?“
“Sorry, Sir i can't get it for you ” was his reply. “why?” i said with a exclamatory and
inquisitive mark on my face . “ you look too young to have drinks “ he replied with a
sheepish smile. There was a self doubt about my looks which i all the time thought
were very mature looks . Alas !! “ i have this identity card “ i said with a shining confidence.
“ can u show sir ?”he said . “Sure “ i took out the card. And it came as a shock to me
that the date of birth on my ID card was wrong , it made me look much younger . Actually
i was 25 that time but had no proof to show him how long i'm staying on this planet.
“sorry sir , but i think i can have the pleasure of serving drinks only after 2 years ”.
that was because though i was 25 at that time MY ID has DOB which made me 2years younger.
That was the moment when some hot gals at our adjacent table started laughing . and
they were looking us in strange ways and our situation was like those of babies in a
striptease bar . My smart junior asked something in waiter's ear , and with a smile the waiter
said “sure sir”. I was really proud of my buddy junior , of course if you have got smart
seniors in college you are smarter. “you know u have all the capabilities of being a good
manager” i said to my junior. He acknowleged with a smile . “ what exactly did u tell
him ?“
“Get apple juice in wine goblets" .

P.S Wait for the next part , i wrote it after getting drunk with apple juice so sorry for typos

A flying fish

2008-01-20T19:19:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there lived a golden fish in an ocean ,
it was whole world for fish
as the fish grew
it swam higher in the ocean
one day it peeped out of ocean and saw a diferent world alltogether
the fish saw a pink kite flying in the sky .
it was fascinated by the pink kite flyin in the sky
it jumped higher and higher out of the sea to be with that kite
one day it took a large leap and jumped high
this was one happiest moment of fish's life
then she flew daily to be with the pink kite
pink kite and the fish became friends.
the fish in the ocean started loving that kite
but never told the kite
of the fear that the kite might fly to some other place . so it never told . one day there came a teacher ..
The kite and the fish saw the teacher teaching the
children in a village on a coast
teacher was teaching to young innocent children " kites fly and fishes swim " .
one child asked" can't fishes fly"
the answer was NO .
After that day the fish stopped flying.

Pink kite still flies and knows some fishes can really fly .
The golden fish still swims with the reflection of pink kite

Do u know how to fly ?
or your teacher told you the rules ?

P.S Based on true events

A TRIBUTE TO DILLI

2008-01-18T03:12:00.000-08:00

Ek toote makbare pe saakh giri hai
Ek guzare waqt ki baat likhi hai
Ek bite hue pal ki shyai se

Ek khuli pari kitaab ke jaise
Har rasta ek daur ki kahani hai
Bas dhool hatana baki hai

Main chalta hun ek laal kile se
Sunane qutub ne jo baat kahi thi
Ek baat nayi fir milti hai

Har manzar lafz yunh kehta hai
Jyun dafan hai ek sachai yahin
Bas Ek kabr khodna baki hai

Yunh dil dar dar par dhadkate hain
Yeh hi dilwalon ki kehlati hai
kuch to aisi baat hai yahan ab dilli hi yaad ati hai

P.S writing in hindi after 7 long yrs

one day of madness

2007-10-25T00:12:00.000-07:00

Everyone says there is something special about these mad people on street. People who have lost the sanity.They know no rules. and there evrything is governed by fearless execution. Thats what i exactly want from life .
“One day when i'm not forbid by the rules that these human maketh.”

One day to madness begins now . I woke up when i wanted .My roommate screamed at his loudest “ are u mad , don't u have to go to office” . The first one to call me so . But im happy to be mad now . I turned on the nasty songs which i generally don't listen in my home thinkin my neighbours might see me like i'm a big time nympho. Then a dose of heavy metal was enough for the final awakening.While i was playing the metal my maid said me “ bhaiya itni zor se sunonge to pagal ho jayoge” “will get mad if u listen so loud “. Doesn't matter .There's a different type of hapiness springing from within. And i wonder i missed a large part of my life doing things which others like , or living with the rules . I sang loud under the shower . Did salsa , tango and what not still wrapped in a towel , and i can see my neighbours watching me from window hissing” boy has gone mad”.
What to wear for office , formals never give me the freedom i want . So i took a shirt with nasty message , got my self into my cargos , red chappals from levis.splashed soem gel on my hair , and i was ready.I put on my headphones and started walking towards the bus stand . Where i can get some transport for office. Finally i got an auto ,
in auto i was singing loud with headphones on . And the autowala smiled and spoke in his mind “pagal ho gaya hai “ - mad. Doesn't matter.
Finally reached office.Had my breakfast. I observed one thing when you break rules the conflict within your self vanishes and a confidence comes from within . You see people like never before , you greet people with genuine smiles , and your feet and heart
become light.
I don't know why but to my closest buddies in office i asked “holi kab hai ?”.
I had seen sholay last night . Everyone had a diferent answer and a different expression.
answer 1 :- Are u mad ?this is october.
answer 2 :- Do you mean diwali.?
answer 3 :- pata nahin , shayad march main.
answer 5 :- Pagal hai kya ? ( do people confess on this ?)
answer 6 :- kitne aadmi the ? (liked this answer)

Sometimes the most irrelevant question and answers take you to the present moment .question which doesn't mean anything. Distarct you from your superficial persona entagled in psychological time the future and the past and bring you to the now. Anyways
i'm enjoying my madness more than my soberness which holds me back from saying a girl bitch and a man dog. I logged into my messenger , told people straight from heart what i feel about them. I told a girl “ you always think i'm flirting with you, yes i'am but you are not even worth flirting , you are the most arrogant gal i have ever seen with peanuts in brains and cannon balls on breast “ . She replied back “ is this you “.
I replied “no this is not me its he” and then her final words “ you are insane”.
Doesn't matter. But again a hapiness.
I left office early . Went for some shopping . Did lotsa shopping and flirted with a lots of salesgirls in showroom . They snap a smile everytime u go to them . I asked one of
the salesgirl “ i know you are not happy to see me , its just a fake smile on your face , which will broaden once i show interest in the product at your counter. But really i'm here because i wanted to see your genuine smile”. She started laughing , that was hapiness for me and to her. Though she said me mad too.I had dinner at one of the best restaurants in town sitting alone on the table ordering every next thing on menu. Ate food without any rules . Had finest of wines. i was looking very strange in that restaurant , where all the tables were occupied with families , pretending to be happy.
Lovers pretending to love each other , bound with the formalities of society and to get the label of mannered sober. What i was thinking is what exactly this life needs from me these labels of being decent, mannered , sober gentleman or happiness,even if people call me mad. I had good dinner and paid a grand tip to the waiter who was serving me. he must have thought “i'm mad “ . For that would have the tip for whole of the month.I'm happy.

I reached home . It was a perfect november evening , i went to terrace with my guitar , played some music . Called someone special , played guitar for her , and told her
what i felt about her truly and what i don't like about her but still like her for what i don't like about her.She blushed on the phone and said “you are mad”. I was happy .
My madness has given me a mantra fearless execution of thoughts ,a way to live my own life.

I lied down at bed . I'm feeling happy for the day ,so much happened through out the day , so many moments to remember.So many lessons to learn. At the end of the day lying down my head on the gentle satin . I don't remeber much or i don't care much what people said about me , but there's a feeling deep down inside me that this has been happiest day of my life, though nothing happened , but still a lot.
And i wonder , how i wasted 24 precious years of my life pretending “i'm not mad”.
Are you mad?

note:- All of above written is fictional crap and spiritual truth in authors mind. Don't try to realte it with the ppl dead or alive people not mad or happy .

Learning Lessons

2007-07-27T00:01:00.000-07:00

Today it was a day of equal propotions. My share of joys and sorrows.Reached
Home quite early. There was no body at home , every body seems to be busy on friday
evenings dancing to the tunes of life . Breaking the monotony that surrounds you through
out the week.
Truly speaking i have nothin much to do on friday evenings or saturday or sunday.
I don't have a girlfriend , so that i can engage my self in endless blabbering .I dunno wats
there to talk about for so long. I remember one of my friends who used to talk on his
phone for long - long hours.I asked him what the f u keep talking to her. He said “we
share each and every moment of our day. She tells me what she had in breakfast, lunch
and dinner.with amount of rice no. of chappatis and curries she had.Then she tells me how
was the food. Who was with her on mess table.How many times she changed clothes of
what colour .How her roomate cheated her, who is her roomate dating these days.And
then about the fashion funda and personal hygeine.No of times she took bath.with which
soap.How she could not sleep whole night because of the pimple on her cheeks.Some
secrets , as how miss C is shining dese days and how her arms are not hairy these days.
Miss D goes parlour for waxing and her armpits are bushy and stinking”
I asked then what u talk about , he said “ at night she wants me to say i love you some
1000 times.and rest of the times i keep giving explanation about things that i never did
or the girls i never talked to.”

He was seen with his cell phone in each and every corner of hostel, canteen , campus
even while going to loo.With his cellphone held between his right shoulder and ear.
Even sometimes in the class also he was caught under the table talking to his girlfriend.

After around six months of serious affair , as people used to call it in college. They
broke up.The reason for their break up as told by the realtionship experts or so called
luvgurus was a tragic story.
It was the time of summer Holidays in college. Most of the couples stay back in college
To enjoy the freedom during these holidays. Freedom to date anywhere in campus. The
preferred location were backyard of open air theatre,In the pine jungles or park . Of course
they date in jungles to explore nature . I really wonder how loving someone draws you closer
to the nature. Like other couples this couple also decided to stay back in college and
enjoy the freedom and the nature ofcourse.
On the first day of summer vaccations Mr A ventured out of hostel . Walking in slow motion like the hero of bollywood who has just fallen victim to a love affair. With sun glasses on and his ususal posture head bent at 38.5 degrees above the shoulder line. With the cellphone held between his right ear and obviously the right shoulder.
Finally reached the gates of girls hostel. She was all ready ,smiling from some 500
metres, and outside the gate he was faking a smile.A perfect colgate smile.I remember
before this affair the guy used to brush his teeth only during viva exams .they exchanged smiles. Then Miss 0 asked “ how i look today?” .
“ hmm gud , but the combination u r wearing is not gud” he replied.
She was wearing a yellow top and a pink jeans as told by the local reuters of college .
The guys are jealous of girls on one thing for sure , gals have a spectrum of colours to wear while guys are out of option and have to wear only a few colours out of the spectrum.
“are u complementing me or insulting me ? U know i tried to be special for you” she a said with all smiles gone in a moment.
“ but it looks odd but btw i love you not your clothes” were the last words of my friend Mr A.
“when u first saw me i was wearing this combination only, and when u proposed to me i
was wearing the same combination”
And then with a bang every thing shattered , and it was formally anounced a break up
after a couple of days.

College has ended . And life has changed .For my friend Mr A .also.

After college he has found another girlfriend.Somebody told me his new girlfriend is more
colourful then his X-girlfriend.Both of them shop together and eat together so no more curry and chappti stories. He even accompanies her to all parlour trips.
He was spotted in goa last X-mas .
All colourful clothes a red pyajama with bright yellow t shirt blabbering on a phone.
Walking on the beach with his cellphone held between ... his left ear and left shoulders.
And now i really believe
“ everybody learns from past relationships”

SINNER AGAIn ! @##

2007-06-23T01:45:00.000-07:00

Vyas( psychotic ) :
I'm feeling like i'm flying in sky.Its beautiful but can't bear the sound of an electric
transformer buzzing my head.
Though i like music when i'm drunk . But Why this
band is not in sync.The drummer is too early on the bass.Vocals seem like coming
from under water . I feel dilution in my senses .Who is blowing that conch from far
away.
I like speed but stop these rockets taking off on the periphery of my temple .
I like joyrides but why it does not stop when i want. Its rotating .
Up side down.
I like food but why i'm not able to eat anymore. May be anorexic this time.
I never like to speak , but who is this blabber inside of me.
I talk little to female species , wait a minute whom i was talking for the last 1 hour.
Oh ciggaette is in my left hand .. which is this one . I never smoke this brand.
Its in my hand must be mine .But i never smoke with left hand .
I'm feeling a ecstasy , an emotional overflow, heart pouncing.
Wait give me my phone .Let me tell her she a bitch, and i know what's
going in to her bedroom.Ok better i'll message my anger and feelings.
Beer was too much , let me piss where is your washroom ..
its my 20th trip i guess...
hours .....

Vyas ( coming back to life) :
Hey where's every body gone .May be party is over . Gosh .. 4 am.
My throat dried up. F**** no water ... . There's only a beer can in my fridge.
No i'm not gonna have it.
Tap water isn't safe .(unless u are dying with thirst).
Wtf playin on my comp vengaboys who got this f***** CD.
I feel like watchin some . Let me download . Why all the download sites
are behind ur credit cards.And the advertisements of mr dick and miss jane
disgusting isn't there some other business on earth Mr. Dick get away from my 22'
inch
LCD monitor.Just a ciggarette before i sleep. Oh that ass took my ciggarettes.
Something blinkin. May be my phone .
“ i thought u were mature enough to understand me and my feelings.
But with regret i have to say u r a dumb ass
-luv
***** ”
I must apologise .But what about my self respect. Ok she's the only one
so i must.
“ Dear ****
Its totally misunderstanding.My friend was sending this message to his girlfriend
,When he came to know his girlfriend was having relationship with another girl.
I know its totally my fault as i should not give my cell to somebody as u told .
But i promise this will be the last time.
Lotsa luv “
( 4 in the morning video playin on my TV)
Vyas( repentful ).

My doorbell is ringing ? Must be neighbours..
Then must be neighbours kid..
Ok .. i'm still in sleep.
Oh reality .. i'm alone will have to open the room . Its the maid .
Oh where's all shirts gone not a single tee-shirt. Ok u pink one comeon.
Some of my friends never let me wear colour pink they believe its colour for gay ppl.
Why is the maid laughing? May be she thinks like my friends. I'm straight.
My head is revolving. I'll take a bath and start my life once agin from scratch
From today onwards .
1)i'll resume swimming , GYM.
2) Go to nearby temple in the morning and will pray for a beautiful working bride.
3)Eat breakfast daily before leaving to office.
4)Work for a patent seriously.
5)Will get my drums repaired.
6)Will take guitar techniques very seriously, download followup videos for guitar.
7) Will start writing my expenses.
8) Get painting stuff and do a portrait soon.
9) Wash my clothes evry 3 rd day so that nothing is pending on weekend.
Sigh ... too much .
Ok lets start from my room i just need two bean bags from sarojini and , some lamps
for makeover of my room . I'll buy in the evening.

2 hrs later..
Vyas(skeptical)
I don't think i'll be able to do that all . Its hot outside i'll start in the evening..
ummm .. arghhh.. sleep.

Vyas (surrender)
trng trng..
“ hola dude wats up ?”
“me: down man”
“so wats plan for today evening?”
“me : nothing much , will cook food , listen music”
“there's a gig at morrisson cafe today evening”
“me (excited): who's playin”
“dunno let's c”
will i be going .. naah ... yes . But cafe morriosson is a pub.
So wat , i'll not drink.will only listen to muzik..
“me: ok i'll cm”
“ok dude c ya evening 7:30 sharp”
“ hola”
oh i think all 9 points i mentioned to my self have to start from monday .. because its the
beginning of next week.
1 week....

Vyas( sinner again) :
trng trng ..
“ u are coming for the party na ?”
“ ahem .. ahem .. yup”

blabber soul

2007-06-08T06:07:00.000-07:00

Vyas : do i need to tell you ?
Me : you do , i'm with you always any moment here,ther anywhere anytime.
Vyas : i know we are inseperable. But does it mean i should be telling you evrything.
Me : now that's not rite. I know the darkest secrets inside your heart. The darkest things u
and how bad you feel about some people.
Vyas : But thats same with evryone isnt it ?
Me : i don't know about others.but sure i know the dark side of your persona.
How you pretend to be a fellow with no sexual urges wen u see a girl.
But i know wat goes around in your mind.
How you pretend to like people when u feel like slappin them.
Vyas : may be....
Me : hmmm .. so.
Vyas : u know one thing , sometime i love u so much . I want to hug you!
But u are never there. And sometimes wen u talk like this i want to kill
you.
Me : i'm waiting for ur embrace , but u never feel me.
Vyas : Do u think after all this argument i'll embrace you ....... someother day .
Right now tell me should i gulp poison , hang myself from ceiling
jump from a penthouse window. Or someother way to kill you.
Me : are you sure .. i'll die ..haahaaa.

A summer in delhi -1

2007-05-23T06:44:00.000-07:00

IN mumness i muse ,
over the days of yore.
Breeze through my hair,
and daffodils gallore.
and my roomamte ,
awakes me with a lion's roar....

oops see wat has happened to me ..!
The poet inside has vanished somewhere .!
For dayz i'm trying to write a romantic poem, rather asong.But everytime i start writing it turns out to be some vengaboys song with meaningless rhyming lines.
may be u need enuff inspiration to write love songs.
presently i'm lacking that.Moreover when the mercury soars upto 40 degrees there is not much of hormonal
activities, i guess some abc or xyz university has done an experiment on it .I read it in a newspaper on page 6 upper right corner of the page .A place on newspapers where u'll find a Pamela Anderson with a peta banner in front of massive assets or Britney spears witha bulge in lower abdomen , i still can't tell she is carrying or not.So the newspaper article says a surveyconducted on 4 dogs where 4 of them were put in a chamber and temperature was increased to 50 degrees . After that they were shown pictures of hot bitches , which invoked no hormonal activity in them. So they have generalised the study for humans also.
Then why do people say she is hot ..??
In summers the worst part is to commute from office to home or vice versa...
Though i'm lucky to get an AC vehicle but still u don't feel like travelling sometime.Yesterday while coming back from office i was listening to floyd's "coming back to life".You should know i'm putting 15 hours stint in office almost daily and feel like coming back to life when coming back to home.But the cab wala was more frustrated , all of a sudden he crashed the car on one divider near DND flyway(NCR ppl mst be knowing).And instead of mourning on the dents on the brand new radio taxi he was laughing like anything.The first thing that came to my mind was a hindi movie where a villain is driver and will not say the protagonist but a character in the movie is traumatised and kidnapped. .... continued

Hush hush , vodka and a crush!

2007-05-15T08:19:00.001-07:00

So much have changed in last 6 months.
I shifted from bangalore to delhi.
Lost touch with friends there.
life has taken a 360 degree turn .
heading in entirely new direction.
No time for those loud laughs,
just hush hush around the corners.
Don't know i'm growing old or as
they say mature. No crushes for a long time.
My friends will not beleive
Tushant, tooper harry
i'm a changed man .
1 crush in 6 months can't say i'm in delhi ...
that too natalie imbruglia ... unbelievable ??
may be time to get seriously into a relation!

No more emotional drama after 4 vodka shots.
I remember how i used to call special people
In my life after getting high on my fourth trip.
Miss those LOR(legend of rocks ) trips on weekends
suzie-q playlist dah knows it.
Jam sessions, there's no fun playin drums alone.
no one follows the funny count here.

My guitar weeps gently in the corner of room.
till 11 or 12`o clock i come back from office
to strum few strings ... few notes of music and
a few momnents of hapiness.

I want to break free ..
I want to be crazy as before.
i want to kick its butt before it (life)
kicks me out of the game.

This blog is just to remind me ..
i'v got a life , freedom , gotta ride high on it ..!
c'mon get some life ..
it doesn't always mean to shake your shot to ACDC .
There is more to life !!

Finding your Horizon

2007-04-21T01:51:00.000-07:00

A gentle breeze through the pine trees just reached to caress my shoulders.
I still remember the evenings of the summertime back my home.
Sitting on terrace.Watching the sun go down , adding hues to my life.
A boat still struggling to find the horizon, visible for sometime in the twilight
and getting lost somewhere.
Sailing to the horizon was my dream, since those days.
I wanted to have my own boat.My own sea and above all my own horizon.I wanted
to paint myself red with shadows on the sea.
Days passed i stepped out of my home, still fearing the sea.
I chose to watch the beauty from my terrace .I met a lot of people carrying their
nets and fishes caught in the day. People who went into sea near the shore and far into the
sea.Some said it's fun some told the stories of tempest and the breeze, sorrows and hapiness . Finally i decided to start my venture. First time the waves were high and i decided to get back . While on the way back home, i thought about the waves , the fear and excitement
in the middle of sea.Was enough motivation to begin the journey.

Days passed , it wasn't easy rowing day and night .
Every day the horizon looked the same and the sun was still the same.But i kept on sailing.
I was all alone except some birds who perched on the mast of my ship.i loved when they chirped , break from monotonous sound of the sea.
One day when the wind was blowing .The mast of my ship broke. And journey became
more difficult -no one now.A hope kept me sailing.Distance berween me and the horizon
remained the same.
After few days i saw a ship coming back. While crossing my ship he
i asked him “How far is horizon ?” He smiled back and said “I found it some 6 miles from
this place.” I asked him with excitement “how was the view there?” .“magnificent”he answered with smile on his face.

With a new energy i started .After crossing some 8 miles horizon was still
the same.I was disappointed to sail further.With all the hopes crushed i started back.After
days of sailing i reached my home .Too tired .
One day in my town i met the person whom i met on my journey.
He recognized me and smiled at me. “ you found the horizon boy?” he asked.
“No i travelled more than you asked me too , and then i came back.”i answered with anger.
“and i know there is no place called horizon”

He smiled and answered “ i found my horizon there only may be yours was not there”. I was confused with that answer.
Today i'm again standing on my terrace once again watching the same ship
same hues of sunset. Birds who accompanied me on my journey. But sure something has
changed.My perception of the horizon. And the utopian place called horizon do exist believe me. -

Delhi heights

2007-04-16T00:25:00.000-07:00

For days now ..., my lifes churning between my alarm clock and office .The only thing i listen in the silence of my four walled and a hot roofed home is this alram clock which is set to interrupt the dreams . Sweet dreams where i'm flying over green sea in my kamikaze with the girl ,a girl about whom i dunno much as always .And with the bang of alarm clock the kamikaze crashes into the dumpyards of delhi border. I know you can feel the stink.No
i'm not gonna talk about any enviornmental issue here.
Don't close the window neither i'm not gonna talk about “my feat of rescuing the girl from dumpyards . U know surviving a plane crash is easy but crashing a plane into so such special dumpyard forget .. u can't live a moment ”. Enough of romanticism in my last posts.

Finally my last attempt to grab the alarm clock while still in bed fails, and i start
my usual journey to office as i have described in my earlier posts . Some things have changed from delhi to bangalore . No there's no office bus , i travel by a AC cab which picks me from my home .And i get to see latest fashion statement on road near south-ex where lot of young people are always standing like models to showcase their latest gucci
collection from sarojini or wat ever market. ....colourful citi. One important thing i noticed in delhi is everybody knows some of the abusive language .First day i came from bangalore to delhi , a old chauffer drove me from airport to my home driving a lancer.It took about an hour at airport parking to take out that damn car . It was struck at the exit of parking where
one person with his 800 std was struggling to take it out.Suddenly uncle jee shouted “teri behan di..”.I was shocked to listen from that unclejee's mouth.And since that day i'm in delhi listening to foul words from conversation here and there. The maximum record in a single day was on my trip to GIR. I'm a big fan of rock , a drummer, guitarist my self so can't miss any gig. And wats better than mosh to watch a show. Was a gud crowd .Ah ..
it hurts when u see and listen all gals around you with all the sophistication wrapped in their skimpy short shirt or watever they call it screaming that “maa behan “ slang for the poor fellow who's trying to pluck the strings of his guitar in all strange ways he can.Before dis iv seen gals sayin a****** or different versions of the F word , but dis was kinda shock to me . And that was not the end of the game .Then started the physical part of it Na .. not get me wrong here .. i'm talkin the joy kicking that goes on mosh , gals were contributing equally to that kick butt game headbanging and kicking the next in line.
Tomorrow is holiday at my office , somebody is yelling at my back
to go for a rock show . I'll remember the rules this time. Time to watch out more of delhi.
Will write something for u poor souls soon.
P.S
Yesterday(before posting) something happened which has changed my notion about delhi & its people .ystrday for the first time i ventured into north of the city.After a niteout at an NCR disc(mojo – to be covered in next post). I was lost on a metro station about the route of my destination . Suddenly some gal appeared in front of me asking about a route i wanted to go. I smiled back and told her “i'm travelling for the first time”.She was also new to the funda .But it was nice knowing a girl who will help a boy in a city like this “a down to earth angel”.Especially very few fashion designers have that DTE factor keep it with you.Thanks if ur reading it .And i do respect women.
I realised one thing out of it “some time a wrong ticket is all wat u need to get back to a right track” .

Note:-
All incidents reported in article are refrenced from the day i wrote.
Postscript is refrenced from the day i post the article .

LOVING a FLORIST

2007-02-13T22:31:00.000-08:00

“ what all flowers u want in your bouquet?” she asked with a smile .
“ for sure some flower as beautiful as you” i said replying back with a smile too.
I confess that every poet is a flirt to the core of his heart and never leaves a chance
to say some beautiful lines .The shine in her grey eyes and dimple in her cheeks made me
say so much to a stranger.
There were all kinds of flowers in shop white ,more white , red and more red . Similarly for other colours.Flowers with leaves , flowers without leaves .Flower with fragrance flowers without fragrance.And different kind of people in shop people with girlfriends people without girlfriends.
Finally she selected some flowers for the bouquet and introduced to me some of
the flowers in bouquet. “white one is psycopathia,this is pestofasia , blue one is stupidofasia , red one bastardofasia” i don't know what she said but every flower name was like medicines on a prescription slip. Girls can forget the simple 3 alphabet name RAM
of there husband but can easily remember the 18 alphabet “ eucanthemum vulgare” some flower i guess. But still i love the florist girl for her beautiful eyes and a dimple
on cheek.
Finally i took the bouquet and was about to leave from the shop. She stopped
me and gave me her card .I'll not disclose the name of the shop or florist.I was so happy to get that 4x3.5 cm piece of card.My heart said she likes me .My mind said its strictly
business not personal( Godfather).I kept thinking about her whole evening gazing to the flowers and her name on that beautiful card.There was some confusion regarding her name as there were two names on the card . Somehow i assumed her name to xyz instead
of abc. I can guess name of people by looking at them.Beleive me for my intuitive power.
The bouquet i got for someone else was still lying in the corner of my room and i never gave it to somebody.After about a week , while coming back from office i found the flowers were missing from my room.The maid told me in the morning my room was stinking because of the flowers and she threw them out in garbage .Deep pain to my heart.
The card was the only thing left to remind me of those beautiful grey eyes and the dimple on the cheek.There was a number on the card.I was thinking to message her anything. So i thought of asking about availability of some flower in her shop. Somehow after some thinking and fiddling i messaged her “The flowers were beautiful,still spreading there fragrance in my room.Do u have dianthus barbatus(naeme of some flower)?” of course the fragrance in my room is of the lavender room freshner , I bought yesterday to do away with the flowery stink .She didn't reply back.Next day i decided to see her personally so i went to her shop to buy some flowers .
But this time i completed my homework i searched on net name of every flower and somehow crammed in my greycell no doubt i'm still left with some.This time also she greeted me with that killer smile.I asked for a bouquet . This time she didn't even ask for what all flowers i want and started selecting the flowers. “ do put some dianthus barbatus
in”i said in a confident voice. As i really know which flower it is. “i love william”she smiled back and once again my heart broke . But why she said it to me and that to out of context. I came out of shop and threw flowers out into a dustbin with a achy brachy heart.
The question in my mind was why she said it to me . Later in the evening when i was deleting the saved webpages on flowers i just gazed once again . “What dianthus barbatus is called sweet william” what a fool i'm.
Sunday morning i again went to the florist jus to see her and buy some flowers. The problem of being in love is aggravated if you are in love with a florist.
First problem is that you are in love ( the major one).
The other problems soon follow .
To love a florist u have to buy some 100 bouquets of flowers before she knows your name and smiles back with a hello.
Every time you buy a bouquet she smiles back at you with an enigmatic smile the smile
which you can't comprehend. This smile can mean a lot of things.
1)Sarcastic smile , you are gone and soon your the seams of your wallet will go off
with your girlfriend's wishes
2)She is happy for your prosperous relationship.
Any one but the problem is that she thinks i have a girlfriend.And everytime i buy a bouquet her belief becomes more profound.
That evening i thought , now its enough, time has come to say something
i wote a message

“Dear xyz,
The fragrance of your flowers is still wandering in my room , and everyday i
wake up i see the lillies greeting with a smile , smile as enigmatic as beautiful as
you.Thanks for all these beautiful flowers.I'm in love with you from the day i first
saw you on the shop.I love you
yours
Sweet William”.

Later in the evening i got a bouquet of flowers there was note on the flowers.
“Dear,
The money of your account is still flourishing my shop,everyday i wake up i
see your message to deliver more flowers with a smiley in ur SMS, smiley
looking as stupid as you. Thanks for all the orders that you trusted my shop for.
I'v never been to the shop, its my elder sister who is married for 2 years.I
love a customer like you.
Yours
Opuntia phaeacantha
P.S
All the weird flower names u mentioned in your orders are not found here some of them were even extinct spieces of flowers . I'm happy for your cooperation to recognise every lilly and rose to some exotic flower. Expecting more orders from you.
Have not enclosed the bill . This is a complementary gift for you as an exclusive customer
for your 201st order”
I was shocked as i should be. I took out the visiting card to tear it apart whn i saw for the first time two names Mrs.xyz and Ms. ABC.
These days i'm studying about floral cultivation and even have some of the flowers in my kitchen garden.

When It will rain again ?

2007-02-05T22:29:00.000-08:00

Yesterday night i got a little bit late for home.My cab took a long route along the city lights.I was listening repeatedly to a phil collins “i can't stop loving you”.Don't know why? Delhi is a beautiful place ,and specially during this month of the year.Its in full youth.
Everywhere i could see Colour Red spelling the emotion.Heart shaped baloons,red roses and not to forget the red blushing faces. They celebrate the festival of love better than any other city . “LOVE” i really don't know wat it is . But think must be some beautiful thing to be in.
I was enjoin thinkin all these things.At the same time my mind was pondering ,
have i ever felt this way?Question was surrounding my mind.

The cab driver interrupted in between my thoughts “right or left”.. after a moment
of silence i said “left”. Why our life is not like this crossing? Why you are not given choices sometime? Anyway after travelling for some 45 minutes i reached my place.
I stopped cabwalla some 500 metres from home. And start walking along the periphery of
a park .Its a big park in my neighbourhood people call it “deer park” but i prefer to call it “dear park” for its my companion in lonely evenings in this new city.
After some two months i have seen clouds like this here,thundering.Wind is blowing, i have a gut feeling it will rain today.The first drop touched the center of my palm.As some one holding my hand. Sometime when there's nobody to understand you nobody to speak to you nature's your best friend. It start drizzling on not so cold february night.And soon the drizzle turned out into a heavy shower.
I was wearing my business formals ,but somehow i felt like i'm back into my schooldays wearing my white school uniform.On saturdays we used to wear this white uniform and it always used to rain.On the way back my home lot of water on road was tempting me to splash with my feet .I didn't resist the child within me and splashed it.
By now i was drenched fully wet from head to feet.
I really remember my old schooldays when i had this special friend with whom i spent most of my time , we fought a lot , and One thing i really miss is the way she splashed water and smiled back in innocence. She was a lot like the jenny of the movie “forrest gump” if u have ever seen. Her father was a drunkard and her mother was a nurse , so most of the times she was alone. After our school she used to come to my place and we used to play and used to do all the stupid things kids do. I was a dumb guy back then and she was always the one protecting me from the scold i used to get at my home for my performance in exams.One day i heard her father has abondened them.After coming from school she came to my house , for the first time i saw some tears in her eyes.She said “Papa has not come home for last 7 days”.By then i didn't know how to console a crying girl.So i just kept silent.Next day i didn't see her in the school.It was a saturday evening , but i came home all alone without the splashes of water.When i reached home it stopped raining.And with last drop of water she was gone.I never saw her again.
I don't know what it was , but really was a beautiful relation which still have imprints on my mind.

It is 10:30 at night i'm standing in the balcony of my room .
The rain has stopped .I can see two puppies splashing water.Hope they keep playing . I gaze at the sky. It's clear ,moon is coming out of sky.Its getting cold outside and lonely inside. Gazing into the sky i wonder When it will rain Again ?
Hope it rains soon .

Monday Blues -1

2006-11-20T01:33:00.000-08:00

It's yet another monday morning in Bangalore.After some 50 days ,i woke up early in the morning today,As i need to attend a call at office.I can see my boss with his flaring eyes ,askin me for the status.And the client yelling at me for not slogging my paining ass for last 2 days. Somehow after snoozing for some 20 min's struggling to keep my eyes open,i woke out of bed .
I need to get ready in perfect 15 mins.Not a big challenge for an IT company's employee.I can really say my life is moving fast.No doubt sometimes i have to chew some gum on the way to office , for there wasn't much time for brushing my teeth.Thanks ABCD white gum.
As far as bathing is considered. There are other shortcuts , just splash 3 mugs of water all upto your shoulders , wet your hair put some gel , some DEODARANT on your stinking body.which still smells of all the vodka you guzzled, and ciggaretee you smoked last night.
Now about clothes its pretty easy for me , as no formals are required in my organisation.Thanks "BIG BOSS".
The most difficult part in getting ready for office is searching for the right pair of socks.finally not finding the matching pair , i let my feet feel the comfort of two different brands.no need to comb hair. As this sunday i had this IT haircut , specially designed for Busy people , look smart without combing your hair. Out of my 15 min's agenda some 8 min's were taken in socks searching exercise.
I step out of home to see Bai asking for money."Shit why it happens only when i need to go early". somehow i manage to skip.
My comapny is very considerate about commutation of employees. It has a concept called flexible timings bus.What it really means is bus which has flexible timings ,it can come within a flexible limit of +/- 30 minutes.When i reach the bus stop , i can see the same story on every face .I think there's nobody who loves monday.Except my fat ass american client, who's ever ready to screw up people after a long gap of two days, so eager that he'll call me up at sharp 9:00 am (IST) sunday late night there . I can see more sad faces.Some bachelors who had party last night,One guy who's just married , who didn't sleep last night.And some sleepy faces like mine.and bangalore weather is always there to tease u on monday's. Its perfect weather to be at home and watch TV or have coffee or watever.Mean to say its not a gud weather to be at office. Finally i can see my office bus coming a 32 seater and probably some 63 people standing there.I know the tactics of getting a seat in bus much better now .

These three approaches are pretty effective
1) Aggressive approach :- use all the maths , stats u have learnt in high school. calculte the distance, at which bus will stop(taking the retardation and speed into account).Or use game theory to find the probability of bus stoping near you, and as bus slows down start running towards the bus.Hit people if required.
sucess rate - 100%
WARNING:- only use on people whose weight is in the proximity of +/- 10 kg.

2) Deceptive appoach :- when u can see the bus coming don't panic or be excited Just stand there on the corner as u are not ready to board the bus. just tell somebody"this bus will take a long route,another bus will come in 5 min's" . "They will check bus passes". "the driver of this bus , just finished his 10 yeras RI for an accident of company bus all 63 passengers were killed ". U can try out your own also.
Sucess rate - 65 %(people are getting smarter)
WARNING:- Don't tell these things to the same person everday.

3) Corruption approach :- On the very first trip to office see who's driving the bus. just talk to him and offer him a benson , or marlboro saying u've got it from america.Ask him to stop bus near you only. Stand on a secluded corner where there's not much Crowd .And wave your hand when u see the bus.
Sucess rate :- 83 %
WARNING :- This method won't work if number of good looking female species on the bus stop are more.

I used approach 1 and got into Bus ........ Its a long journey, in the same time i can fly from bangalore to delhi, and Sometimes when there's much traffic ,return journey is also possible.

Since day 1 there's desire somehwere that one of the few good looking gals in my company will board the same bus .Finally it happened today.She's the same gal for whom i'm eating stale , tasteless salad at office canteen, in a hope to catch her glimpse at Salad counter. Lucky to get her beside me.She is smellling so gud.How come my deodarant doesn't spell any fragrance . I use a load of it.May be ADIDAS i'm using is same ADIDASS (3 for 100 pack), i saw on gateway of india, being supplied to bangalore pharmacy shops.She's resting her soft beautiful hands on a SAMSONITE bag and her fingers are fiddling fast on the keypad of a cellphone(latest in the market , good for nothing cell).Girls are really dumbo to buy gadgets.Somehow i also took out my antique nokia 2300 from my pocket.The low end cell from nokia with a radio.Radio stopped working after continuously using it day/night for 3 months.After falling from many monumental places in my house , shopping malls,Office pantry, its weeping for the last breath, and goes into Comma after every call i make or receive.
I was trying to impress her,getting her to know about my presence in this world. fiddling messages to my friend to call me, so that i can seem to be a very happening and busy person, try out all new words i have learnt this weekend preparing for my CAT. At last after messaging some 10 friendsi only got one call back.That too a friend of mine asking for his money i have taken last week to pay my credit card bill, for all diwali shopping i did.
"can u please close the window ?" she said in a tranquail voice. I shut the window and said "thank you". For a fraction of second my hands freezed on window.My brain stopped working.she was looking at me as i have said something very stupid. indeed i was so stupid. I was so engrossed in fantasising, that my mind and tounge both slipped.
It was too late to say something like "Thank you , i too was feeling cold, thanks for saving me from bangalore's chill" with a fake colgate smile. But Stupid Me.I Was cursing myself for all the salad i ve eaten for last 3 months.Will never eat salad again.

Finally i reached office safe, swiped in and got inside.I'm not happy to c ugly 21" monitor on my table with all the peers having TFT.I'm the only one working on this pregnant monitor for last 15 months.Mouse and keyboard are also big problems. can do nothing about keyboard except hitting hard to create a cacophonous noise.As far as mouse is concerned,every one works fine if u talk of taking out their balls.
Here u need to take them out actually......

CONTINUED ....

NOTE:- The thoughts expressed here are entirely crap going in authour's mind and don't bear any resemblance to any real life incident
or place

MY NEW LIFE

2006-11-02T01:48:00.000-08:00

The cacophonous mouse clicks away
in the other corner of room...
reminds me of the place.....
where hapiness blooms..

i see the sunsets..
on weekends only...
beautiful were the days..
when i sat up by the river side...
seeing the sunset ...
the colours of multitude..
and hapiness.
and the river reflecting..the beauty...

I'm missin more of home
standin on this side..,
my luv there is dead.
n emotions have lost their pride.
i'm already lost here,
still lookin for a place to hide.

Hey can u show me the way?
the way back to my home..!!
may be i get back there someday.
before sun stops shining n the child stops play!!
- virender vyas

A Shut Window

2006-06-05T06:32:00.000-07:00

A rough walk ,
on smooth grass.
My senses slithers
on the green pastures.
i can only see ,
wat it feels to be
"the child of heaven".

i thought once,
May be one day ,
he opens the window.
and let me out ,
to touch what i see.

Till then i knew ,
the pastures will be green.
and will be beautiful,
watever will be seen.

Things have changed ,
no more im a child.
the child within me,
has lost his pride.

Entangled in the questions
of "do or not to do"?

Scurrying fast,
through the pace of time.
questioning the truth,
my answers have lost rhyme.

i saw u then,
through hazy glass.
when i was eleven.

but no more
i can ,be the
"child of heaven".

untill i distinguish,
the fake from true.
Till the window is shut,
between me and you.

When We(GENERAL category) were crucified

2006-06-05T05:51:00.000-07:00

Sun is rising as usual in the east .Im standing here outside the school,waiting for my 10 yr kid.He studies is class 2.Only this year he could get admission into the school. For the last 5 yrs admissions were closed for the general category students.School bell rings. I can see a lot of happy children coming out of the gate, i waited for half an hour and my kid came at last after other children.Genaral students are not allowed to cross the gate unless other OBC/SC/ST students have crossed the gates.OBC/SC/ST fathers drive away their children in classy cars. But i hv to walk back home with my kid a 5km stretch. I lost my car some years back when Govt. came with a rule that general people have to deposit a tax equal to cost of their cars .Failing which i had to sell the car.As far as buses are concerned, the seats in buses are reserved for OBC/SC/ST .So no place there also. After walking some 5km in scorching heat i finally reached home.It was wednesday ... shit , no electricity.Every mon,wed,thu,sat is power cut in the houses of General category population .So that SC/ST/OBC can be uplifted by providing them with every opportunity and in that consideration electricity is an important factor. Its 10:00 pm in night no electricity at home.Its very hot inside the four walls of home .So i dare to step out in park with my wife and kid.I seated myself with my family on a secluded bench in garden.It was hardly 5 min .. a guard came to us strolling in the park.He asked me what caste you belong to. I said with some hesitation .. G..General.He asked me to pay a fine of Rs.200 and get out of the park.My Fault...The bench i was sitting on was meant for again the SC/ST/OBC . for their upliftment peace of mind is on essential things. So govt came with this decision to Reserve benches for them.Kudos to them... Its early in the morning ...the newspaper wala just knocked the door.I took the newspaper and started reading ..,its independence day . i never used to forget this days some 10 yrs back. My kid hardly knows wat 15th august is ,because i never told him any stories of greatness of our country or anything realted to country.I don't feel like telling him the failures after freedom. On front page of newspaper, in a corner their is a news about a OBC citizen getting 6 months impriosonment in "BAL SUDHAR GRAHA" from a juvenile court for murdering and raping a six year old girl .Yes the rules have been amended ,since the last 5 years.The Culprit was a 25 year old OBC so age relaxation was provided for trial of crime.So he was taken to juvenile court, since there is an age relaxation for OBC/SC/ST. About 11 am some one gave me the BAD news about demise of one of my neighbour and friend Mr.Mehta. I went to his house for condolence next day .His body was lying there still rotting in the heat.I asked his son about the Cremation .His son told me " Many reserved category people have died yesterday so we are not getting entry to creamtion ground " . This rule is the latest from Govt.Where the seats in cremation ground will be reserved for SC/ST/OBC for their upliftment. Finally next day Mehta ji was creamted.i could see sun seeting through the Flames burning a general Body.I was surprised sun still sets in the west.? it was about 9 pm , i was about to sleep in my bed ,my son came to me with innocence in his eyes , inquisitively he asked me the question what is reservation?i asked me where u listened that .he suddenly burst in tears .. i asked him to keep..quietBut i could listen through his sobs "mujhe bhi reservation chahiye(i too want reservation)".How can i convince him its no other toy in the market i can get for him? He kept cryin that night ,claiming many of "his classmates have got reservation".To make him quiet i said ok , ill buy you reservation at your next B'day.
HOPE he understands the F***** concept soon .Bye Bye india

ROCKSTAR -1

2006-05-29T07:44:00.000-07:00

Count 1 2 3 go ...guitars voluming high ..on the silent stage..amps screeching the music ..vibrating strings sprouting the rhythm . .may be.
All of a sudden guitarist looks at me .Inod my head holding sticks more tightly.A perfect roll on all 4.Im in loop once again . sitting behind the drumkit after a year or so.all of suddeen my feet starts swinging beats on pedal .a perfect harmony .With every beat my herat beat rises and so my confidence .Now rolling and dragging my way. Im again "DRUMMER"feels gud to say so. The feeling i get when playin music gives an immense pleasure to me.And i wish i have been a drummer whole of my life.

Its my first concert...smoke machines , pyro effects and the revolving lights,a perfect crowd of some 15,000 people,lunatic cameras telecasting the show to web ..people across countries watching the show... Im new to this world...
Though im busy with my two feet swinging on pedals .Two hands beating the cymbals, snare and toms
My heart is beating fast ...Butterfly feeling in stomach ..a little of nervousness ..much of hapiness ,anxiety..,adrenaline rush...cocktail of all the feelings..and the lady in front row is watching me continuously ..God save me
Sound check is over ..Now begins the real show ...But im lookin for some more ...

" Wat more u Want dude ?Callypygian creatures with a voluptuous body to cheer u in the front ..row ..or those sluts tearing away their under garments for the legend on stage ....or the teenage sissy boy ,giving away a joint of G to satiate the addict in you..U r not a rock star buddy ..no sabbath or morrison !"

Yup the question in my mind wat it takes to be a Rockstar ..only gud music ..?
"naah ... they say u r nt a rockstar till u have lost ur virginity to every slut in town ... until u have smoked 7 joints of G... until u have written some censored lyrics .. which talk of sexual abuse ..!. Abusing religion..!. until u have made a video ... Where the shadows are murdering ,raping ... screaming ..! still dancing"
Why is it that the rockstars when they do all this stupid stuff are still the recluses of a religion called rock and u worship them.. when a rowdy commits the same he 's a scarlet sinner. I don't personally appreciate the so called rockstars. Can't u play without getting grass in hand.? Can't u have someone to love than fuckin around the town.? Can't u give some good message through the rock u hail.?
Music is something sacred at least people in music should realise this..And if this is all u call rock.May be i'll never like to be one "rockstar" ... keep rockin..

LIGHTHOUSE GLOW

2006-03-09T05:11:00.000-08:00

sandcastles which blows,
with the winds of the east!!
lighthouse which glows,
like the eyes of the beast!!
and .i sail my ship to the,
unknown land!!
the land of honour ,
on the waves of pride!!
i left behind the castles to blow,
can't stop myself frm lighthouse glow!

gotta lot of things,and my promise to show!!
sailing in the seas,
if im left alone?
if my ship wrecks,
and i can't go home?
will the winds support me ?
and water lets me live?
( the more u question , the less u win!!)

don't care my life,
i ve to start my show!!
hunger of my soul..
i've to satiate!!
why shud i cry ?
when its my fate!!
so give me my robe..!!
im starting the show...!!
for a gleam awaits me..,
in the lighthouse glow!! -Virender Vyas

THE SEVENTH CROSS!!

2006-01-17T02:59:00.000-08:00

Jesus ,
i didn't meant to do..
but wat if i hv done the sin..?
see the devil staring me...
why shudn't i shun his grin?

The shadows of religion swaying,
not showing who u are?
one cross on my neck ,
gives nothing more,
but a scar!!

My way to getting salvation,
no where i can see!!
the first cross to heaven was the truth,
but no more truth i can see!!

The second cross of faith is there,
but whom shud i believe?
Austerity is the third cross...,
but the illussion seems to decieve!!

I tried to give all away i had..,
but no takers turn away!!
so the fourth cross is dead lane,
and still i wander stray!!

The rituals are dead these days,
no one seems to follow!!
so fifth cross in no more threre.,
making my spirit hollow!!

I tried to take the sixth cross,
the way to peace they say!!
ur humans hv died in all,,
now the devils stands on its way!!!

He wanted my head,
and my blood to bath!!
but as a human ill fight,
not surrender to his bloody wrath!!

so shud i plead for my head..?

or shud i drink the blood of him?

how shud i shun his grin..?

now, the peace will come from seventh cross!!

"the seventh cross of the sin"!!

and i walked away from the land of dead..

taking "seventh cross of sin"!!!
-virender vyas

Theatre Blues -1

2005-12-27T04:12:00.000-08:00

I never thought about theatre so passionately..it was my first time to any play..living in some small towns i never got the chance ,the chance to see the power of human expression. Theatre to me was just another place another art to entertain people . Whatever reviews and articles i read in the newspapers gave me a idea of theatre as some kind of boring practice.some kind of block on my head a tenet believed for so long , oh i missed much.
And monologues they seemed more boring where a person will try to take the load of every actor in movie ... discussing or debating social issues only. But only last week when i had nothing to do my friend asked me to accompany him to a play.everything was different from ringing bell to the actors who were alive in front of us..wow i said ,"he was there on newspaper today"but who cares for i heard his name for the first time.The first view at the stage showed a person who i thought was going to bore us for a long time. He was sitting on a chair like a statue stretching his right limb and his head bow down between his arms. A red spot of light was gleaming on his hair, long flowing hair.He was in total silence of expression but i thought something must be going in his head.But still so numb like a cold stone.
Another bell rang and a new journey began. The journey of thetare!! there on spotlight walked a shadow slowly like a ghost ,there was silence around, i never heard silence in such a way!!have u ever heard silence..!!!
.....to be continued
-virender vyas

The Suicide Song(Gloomy Sunday)

2005-12-27T03:54:00.000-08:00

Reszo Seress, who wrote Gloomy SundayIn December, 1932, a down and out Hungarian named Reszo Seress was trying to make a living as a songwriter in Paris, but kept failing miserably. All of his compositions failed to impress the music publishers of France, but Seress carried on chasing his dream nevertheless. He was determined to become an internationally famous songwriter. His girlfriend had constant rows with him over the insecurity of his ambitious life. She urged him to get a full-time 9 to 5 job, but Seress was uncompromising. He told her he was to be a songwriter or a hobo, and that was that.
One afternoon, things finally came to a head. Seress and his fiancée had a fierce row over his utter failure as a composer, and the couple parted with angry words.
On the day after the row - which happened to be a Sunday - Seress sat at the piano in his apartment, gazing morosely through the window at the Parisian skyline. Outside, storm-clouds gathered in the grey sky, and soon the heavy rain began to pelt down.
"What a gloomy Sunday" Seress said to himself as he played about on the piano's ivories, and quite suddenly, his hands began to play a strange melancholy melody that seemed to encapsulate the downhearted way he was feeling over his quarrel with his girl and the state of the dispiriting weather.
"Yes, Gloomy Sunday! That will be the title of my new song" muttered Seress, excitedly, and he grabbed a pencil and wrote the notes down on an old postcard. Thirty minutes later he had completed the song.
Seress sent his composition off to a music publisher and waited for acceptance with a lot more hope than he usually had in his heart. A few days later, the song-sheet was returned with a rejection note stapled to it that stated: "Gloomy Sunday has a weird but highly depressing melody and rhythm, and we are sorry to say that we cannot use it."
The song was sent off again to another publisher, and this time it was accepted. The music publisher told Seress that his song would soon be distributed to all the major cities of the world. The young Hungarian was ecstatic.
But a few months after Gloomy Sunday was printed, there were a spate of strange occurrences that were allegedly sparked off by the new song. In Berlin, a young man requested a band to play Gloomy Sunday, and after the number was performed, the man went home and blasted himself in the head with a revolver after complaining to relatives that he felt severely depressed by the melody of a new song which he couldn't get out of his head. That song was Gloomy Sunday.
A week later in the same city, a young female shop assistant was found hanging from a rope in her flat. Police who investigated the suicide found a copy of the sheet-music to Gloomy Sunday in the dead girl's bedroom.
Two days after that tragedy, a young secretary in New York gassed herself, and in a suicide note she requested Gloomy Sunday to be played at her funeral. Weeks later, another New Yorker, aged 82, jumped to his death from the window of his seventh-story apartment after playing the 'deadly' song on his piano. Around the same time, a teenager in Rome who had heard the unlucky tune jumped off a bridge to his death.
The newspapers of the world were quick to report other deaths associated with Seress' song. One newspaper covered the case of a woman in North London who had been playing a 78 recording of Gloomy Sunday at full volume, infuriating and frightening her neighbors, who had read of the fatalities supposedly caused by the tune. The stylus finally became trapped in a groove, and the same piece of the song played over and over. The neighbors hammered on the woman's door but there was no answer, so they forced the door open - only to find the woman dead in her chair from an overdose of barbiturates. As the months went by, a steady stream of bizarre and disturbing deaths that were alleged to be connected to Gloomy Sunday persuaded the chiefs at the BBC to ban the seemingly accursed song from the airwaves. Back in France, Rizzo Seress, the man who had composed the controversial song, was also to experience the adverse effects of his creation. He wrote to his ex-fiancée, pleading for a reconciliation. But several days later came the most awful, shocking news. Seress learned from the police that his sweetheart had poisoned herself. And by her side, a copy of the sheet music to Gloomy Sunday was found.
At the end of the 1930s, when the world was plunged into the war against Hitler, Seress' inauspicious song was quickly forgotten in the global turmoil, but the sheet-music to the dreaded song is still available (on the Net too) to those who are curious to know if the morbid melody can still exert its deadly influence...

The Painted Wall

2005-12-27T03:46:00.000-08:00

YOU a painted wall,
hiding something behind you!
sometime it happens,
you see.
but its not true!

I loved you..
for prudence of your mentality!
u thought i was me..
just for your sensuality!!

the lovely colours..
just faded away!!
I strived for emotions white..
till i saw your sentiments grey!!

now when every layer ..is gone
..my love is dead..
and emotions only mourn!!
- Virender Vyas

Ressurecting Renaissance part-3

2005-12-16T05:05:00.000-08:00

It was raining hard, and was another winter morning in bangalore, so i had one more reason to smoke the ciggi.I moved to a dingy shed to get my share of smoke.A lot of people were already there burning there lungs,two more lungs followed.I handed a crumbled ten rupee note to vendor askin for a cup of double tea n a ciggi ofcourse. It was raining hard so was not able to light the fire for poor ciggi.Someone approached and gave light to my ciggi.These are some manners among smokers such as offering light to each other ,sharing ciggi in a chain if ur wid other smokin friends.Some of poor children were also taking the asylum under the dingy shed.I think these sheds are there only homes they have.At the corner was standing a girl about 6-7 yrs of age clad in some glowsy rags.WithSmall eyes , she was holding hand of a small boy Who was crying in harmony with the rain.She was trying to make his mind..to something ,don't know wat.The small boy was her kid brother..hardly clad in anything ,dressed up in nude truth of poverty. In the other hands were some rose flowers to sell.Don't know wat beauty these roses mean to them .The line btw them and us is enough to change the perception of things.to me standing on this side of line, rose is beautiful n fragrant ,but on the other side the beauty and fragrance has its meaning only wen the rose is in our hands. Meanwhile i was thinking"do these people have homes..?""do these people have family..?""do these people knoe bout hapiness..?"" But the reallly big question for us is do we really care..?"and really sometimes we care..dont know the right way though..Today i let the penny go to her small hands..i don't know i did the right thing or not..But the penny brought a moment of hapiness in her life ..may be she was happy for her kid brother ..who was asking for the piece of biscuit lying in a jar..and the penny was only distance btw the hunger and satisfaction.The kid stopped cryin .. but the rain was still pourin in..
She was lookin at me .with a smile , meanwhile she faltered some words to my ears hardly able to understand ..I smiled back at her and her small kid brother..Threre faces gleamed with more hapiness than the penny bought them .Wat was this hapiness all about ?
The other day it was a sunny day.. sun was up on the head ...other reason to had my share of ciggi(u always find some stupid reason to smoke).a small hand touched me from back ...againthere was a smile on her face , anticipating some thing frm myside..I stopped and tried to find a penny in my pocket .. meanwhile the innocent child smiled ..with a rose in small hands...said"yesterday you forgot to take this flower u paid for.." and the penny in my pocket was reneging its purpose their...

REsurrecting REnaissance part-2

2005-12-13T02:15:00.000-08:00

Am i the one other head ,
which will never turn back wen she comes to me .asking for a penny to satiate her hunger . wat im supposed to do..?
struugle with the keys in my pocket to let the coin go in one needy hand..or juss like some other people juss chide the child .abhoring her KARMAs.Abusing her bloody parents.not even trying to know the truth.i hd this brainstorming tete a tete with me and thegoodwill hunter in me.
No its not the greed of salvation ,neither hunger for any prize for social service.its the basic question bout you .the place where you are living, again the bedlam....
As any other IT professional working in those big towers.i hv developed this habit of smokin...to relieve my senses during tiring working hours..to rest my slogging ass .. i break for a smoky stick the temptin bitch.Wen i go there ..the "doomed child" is always there askin for the penny in my pocket ,and then the pandemonium ..i feel very uneasy in such situations ..but wen she begins touching me withthose dirty ,untidy hands i really feel bad about it..Wat im supposed to do ..?Handover the penny in my pocket ,may be to satiate her hunger..?or just walk away cursing the economy ..chewing a centerfresh for the penny!!doing away bad odour!!!

REsurrecting REnaissance part-1

2005-12-13T00:15:00.000-08:00

Empty vessel of hunger,
no more ..i can see!!
ignorant of ur poor truth,
No more i can be!!

With her small steps...
she walks alone to the school...not to study the lessons of addition subtraction
But to see wat it feels like to be sittin on the other side of this gate..
on the otherside where childhood is beautiful.Colorful with those crayons , pencilbox,school bags, lunch box and many more things .. which she can only see..
but in the hands of others..

The morning bell rings and children gather in the prayerground prayin god to
enlight their minds with knowledge..
She too prays to god ..with the same devotion or even more than that....
but why she is lesser child of the same god!!she wonders if god fulfills the wishes of only those ,inside the prayer ground s,
wearing those colourful dresses..!!!

But still determined ..
she comes here every morning...
after that she goes to another school..
the school of life....
where there is much to learn .. and much to do...
she has no parents to love, no relatives to care.... even no one who knows her..
she even don't know her own name...
and accepts the new name wat ppl start calling her...
think one day of ur life . without the people who love you, people who care or people who know you!!
now how it feels to be in this crisis..
her every day in this world has been the same "lost in the identity crisis"!!

MURPHY the BUTCHER!!

2005-11-24T22:23:00.000-08:00

one dark night..
one black cloud..
one dense forest..
dogs barkin so loud..

the sinner lies.
here in a grave.,
the butcher is dead..
killin chickens ..no brave.

murphy the butcher ,
still wanders on night.
don't walk whilst..
he cries the plight.

my small boy,
went there so far..
never comes back now..
for thou shines a li'l star.

the devil is back..,
with his dagger in hand.
no heavens or hell..,
this graveyard his land.

one more gone..
one more will go.
dont go there..
more blood will flow.

the story begins..
as priest has told.
murhy came here.
a long time ago.

there was a girl in town
..a rich man's daughter..,
murphy saw her,
n left all slaughter.

mary was the name..
murphy went her house.
there he found..
one big girl's blouse.

the old man was weak..
still the anger u see.
"go away " he said..
and died the glee.

buthcer was a butcher..,
he killed the man.
the girl was,
no more the girl.
and denied the plan.

thought she killed her father,
whole town in whirl.
people came on,
and killed the girl.

no digger in town,
to dig the grave.
murphy was a sinner,
but still so brave.

the grave was dug ,
no priest no prayers.
with dagger cut his head,
they were sleepin in layers.

people came nxt day,
to burry ,the layer.
murphy's bloody head on her lap,
but the body nowhere.

one night they tell,
on the river's boulders.
one man swam across,
with no head on shoulders.
he drinks scarlet red..
n eats no bread.
with dagger in hand ..
he looks for your head.

oh murphy ..you butcher.
one more was found,
so numb so dead.
again man ....
lacking a head.
- virender vyas

mera gaanv

2005-11-24T22:09:00.000-08:00

agar main chalna chaoon,
us tooti pagdandi pe..
jisse ghere hain ..cheel ke ped ..
kya chal paoonga..?

agar main fir sunna chaoon,
kissi barsasat ke din,
kissi ped pe baithi koyal ki awaj,
,fir sun paoonga..?

shaam ke andhere mein
dar dar ke ghar pahunchneka maja ata hoga..?

raste pe purana hut
.jiski chat tootne ko ai thi..
ab bhi hawa se ladkhadata hoga..?

mere ghar ke pas charwaha..
ab bhi woh dhun bajata hoga..?

patjhar ke baad
un pato pe fislane ka maja ata hoga?

kya kohra parta hoga
..roshni sharmati hogi..?

shaam ke waqt apne angaan main,
ab bhi koi ag jalata hoga..?

yaad mujhko or hai bahut kuch ..
par koi mujhe
..yaad karke wapis bulata bhi hoga?
-virender vyas 27-oct-2005

Divinity

2005-11-24T22:04:00.000-08:00

crave me through the silence,
or crave through the death..
crave whilst still alive.
i'm in your every breath.
-virender vyas

my CONFESSION

2005-05-24T15:04:00.000-07:00

MY CONFESSION (THE REALITY....)

Nor any poem neither a love song ..
But it is my confession..
My love was always there ..
But always needed an expression.
Today you passed by me again..
My heart was happy and my heart is still insane.
Every time u were there..
I wanted to see u..but pretended i don't care.
Its not the matter of only this time... Ive always missed u and i don't think its any crime. In a few days this journey too will end..
But i ll always miss u.. as a special friend.
This last time i will say..
And will not regret..
U were the one ill never forget.
One more fact ..some more light... "All the things my friends said were right".
i Called u one night..
But could not say these words on "phone".
to whom ill say these words when ur gone.
I was always scared of wat u'll think..
But never thought this fast ,time will shrink. So finally i say..
Ur the missing element
Every hour every day..
your hapiness forever,
is all that i can pray.
In a few days this journey too will end..
But i ll always miss u.. as a special friend.
can we sail our ships together..
really want to be ur friend forever.
Now im relaxed and my heart is releived..
coz i said to u all wat MY HEART believed.
VIRENDER VYAS

21 MAY 2005

childhood june

2005-04-30T22:06:00.004-07:00

"wrote only to day its raining.....remember ur childhood days ..and the rain then how different its now"

I waited and then watched ,
The flowers bloom ,
When the sky becomes red.
The streaks of light,
Behind the mountains.
Sun coming out,
Like a baby from womb.
Its early in the morning ,
And light is fading.
Clouds have taken the baby,
The baby sun who could shine.
The baby is peeping ,
One more time.
If he can see,
We can shine.
The painter of sky,
With his monotonous grey.
Has painted his canvas,
With the colour of clouds.
And they will be together soon
Cant bear it .. no not any more
The first drizzle of june…
The water it pours.
I m drenched once more,
Feels good this wet feeling once again.
I love to carry my shoes in hand.
& My feet love to touch this wet sand.
All of friends walking with hand in hand.
My ship sailin with ,my friends beside.
My childhood is happy,
my youth has its pride.
And I drenched with memories ,
This wet feeling again…
Never knew its gonna end soon
The childhood and the drizzle of june.
-virender vyas

my truth

2005-04-30T22:06:00.003-07:00

My truth
Another victim ,
of this tormenting faith.
Caught in vicious cycle ,
Of faith and betrayl
And my own enemy ,the truth in my heart.
-virender vyas

chahat

2005-04-30T22:06:00.002-07:00

Chattan hoon ya tha ,patther hoon ya tha.
Raste mein gira ya matti mein mein para.
Kada ab hoon ya pahle tha kada.
Uthaya gay or toda gaya,
Bajri,reta banana wali machinon se,
Ya kisi majdoor ke pasino se.
Mein majboor ronda gaya,
kisi ki kabra bani kisi ka ghar bana,
mujhe logon ne manchahe rang mein sana.
Ma in to kisi mandir
mein sajna chahta tha.
Toda gaya rasta banana ko,
khud chalne ko ya gaadiyan chalane ko.
Hathodo se mujhe toda gaya,
Mere tukdo se deewaro ko joda gaya.
Main to neenv ka pathar banana chata tha.
Chah hai ya chahta tha.
Chaatn hoon ya tha ,pathhar hoon ya tha.

-virender vyas

introduction

2005-04-30T22:06:00.000-07:00

Yeahh.. i've too arrived with my blog.....[:D]
this blog is simply about me my lifestyle........
and a space for my head on net....