Pictures.. speak more than a thousand words..

I had mentioned pictures very recently (like in my first or second post)
So now, I am adding a few of the ones i love...

She was a frame at the Udaipur Hotel.. I kinda liked her. Wonder who was the model for it.

Caught this one outside a book store, peacefully taking a nap.

This one.. i consider it as a masterpiece. Its at Osho Garden, btw

The most confused Spiderman of his times, at Pune Railway Station (why did he not web his way instead, I wonder)

Seating arrangement at the Udaipur Hotel

hmmm.. that's me getting comfortable with a discarded statue of Buddha

at the parking of Agha Khan Palace.. yeh dosti hum nahi chhodenge.. anyone?

there are more. Wonder how will i ever get over them.

see ya around.

Life and People.. Hopes and Reality.

Hey..
Its been a long while since i blogged. Why? Cos i haven't the time. I haven't the time to think. I have started practicing my Keyboard, again. Its like rebirth. I used to play it a lot earlier. But never this way. This time i am on my own.
but now, I'm really wondering what kept me occupied.
I really love to blog. and it really doesn't take a lot of time. Then why wouldn't I blog? more than the Keyboard (I call him Jeremy), it was the people and their ways that occupied my mind.
Why do people have to be nice at one time and extremely morbid the other. Its a mortal insult to humanity to consider some poeple human at most times.
The other day, i was walking across and i saw an old woman lying beside the road. On further careful observation, i realised, she wasn't dead. (I was passing a hospital, that was the first thing that struck me). She definitely wasn't the most beautiful woman i have ever seen, not even close, not even a bit. However, there was something about her that i felt i could carry with me. She was poor, had no place to sleep, which was assumably why she was sleeping on the road. The rags she wore gave me an apt description of the best that she could afford to be. Was a slum dweller most probably. I wouldn't be surprised to know if her family had abandoned her to avoid funeral expenses. It would have been easy for me to feel superior to her. Really.
However, that was not to happen. There she was, sleeping. Peacefully. Made me wonder about her. I was happy to see her. She was not lying like she was thrown on the road. Not even like she is ashamed of her own self and is eagerly waiting for the cease of the wretched existence. She had absolutely no emotion and/or expression on her face. I was scared of waking her up. The way she was comfortable belittled me because of the vanity that makes us who we are. If she could be happy and content even on a makeshift bed on a footpath, what makes me grumble all the time? Why do I need more, all the very time?
I made the least noise possible, I wonder if that made a difference although, she was on the road anyways. But I simply honoured her privacy. I moved very close to her, so close that i could observe each and every wrinkle on her face sunken into tanquility. She was not happy, but she was satisfied.
I was so jealous of her. More like I was scared, I was scared that if she wakes up and I see some emotion on her face, I might not be able to stay jealous of her anymore. But if she was still worth being jealous of after she awakens, it would be disheartening. I was happier with me walking away with a hope that she might not be as happy as she appears. I didn't want her to wake up like the way everyone else does. I didn't want to see her wake up and begin her day casually. And even now, I hope she would not have done that.

Every other passer-by would have thought of her as a casualty of the material-driven society. I wonder how many really knew that it is not she, but me (and others like me), who really are a casualty, who really live pointlessly without a reason. I guess she was content for a reason afterall. What a pity, I lack the understanding and logic to realise that one can be happy even within a limit of consumable survival. Plenty is not necessary.

And here, I live on without any tangible sense, but a hope. Hope that she did not smile.

Is it not a shame that I would be better off if I assume that she is worse off than she appeared to be, pray, tell! Maybe it is. Maybe it is I who's the wretch afterall.

Anyways, see ya around.

lover of humanity or hater of mankind?

I am a person who is not really of the sweetish tendencies.
I am brutally crude, honest in the politically correct language. so what happens is.. i always nudge people on the wrong side of their elbows. people despice me, wish to avoid me. they think that i am a hater of mankind.
but tell me, if a connoiseur of food begins to like all food that is served to his/her taste buds, will it make him/her a connoiseur at all?
if a collector of art collects every peice of consumer driver creative imagination, would you really trust his tastes in art?
what makes the aforementioned people really distinguished in their choices is the fact that they choose. if you really like everything that is forced at you by the dire necessity of its presentation, you are, unfortunately, sweet nothing. the fact that everything is not similar exists for a reason. the entire idea being - choice is necessary. the logic behind such a choice is not mandatorily the one that is widely accepted.
By the simple arithmetical calculation which states if a=b and b=c, then a=c; we can easily conclude the following:
(i) i dont like to be nice to everyone
(ii) just because i am not nice to everyone does not necessary make me one, but people think that i am anti-human
(iii) i choose the people to whom i am nice to.
Thus, also you can safely assume that i have my reasons to choose the people who i like and by doing thus, i am displaying my love for humanity. I choose my people with just as much of caution as a connoiseur would choose the delicacy. and that makes me a true lover of humanity.
and its true. I am a lover of humanity, and proudly so. i do have an unusual taste of the same though. but then, instead of not knowing what to like, i know. Having a wrong opinion is better than not having an opinion at all. would it not be an insult to people if i love all of them equally? what if i like to read "Anything for you Ma'm" with the same zeal as i read Macbeth. Its a rebuke of Shakespeare himself. similarly if i like all the people alike, the ones who deserve more respect than the lesser mortals stand insulted.

think about it. its worth it.

See ya around.

Nupur

Generally i prefer not to name people on my blog. But Nupur is not people. She is Nupur.

We have a funny relation. She is my twin, looks alike but much better.

She has always been prettier than me. Always more innocent. But firmer, chirpier and she is the BEST person to argue with. You cant trick her twice.

We have evolved together. Like everyone else. We have had our times.

I still remember, when we were children, i used to do her hair and she would do my studies. I would help mum in the kitchen and she would clean the house. but she would consider me her world. i was an all-important person in her life. all the while. of all the people who know me, she knows me the most.

if at all anyone can predict or understand the logic behind what i do, it is she. she loves me.

But as Oscar Wilde once said, when you wear a mask for a long time, your face tends to grow and get used to it. With due passage of time, we grew up by age. She matured and i got back to childhood. Figuratively speaking, when i look at what has become of her, i cant but feel proud of her conduct. She is independant. FREE. Developed a passion for classy books and speaks as smoothly as a Coyote would run at NE 1.

The most important art that she possesses is her ability and willingness, more so, to charm people. She lives with roommates in a hostel. if it were me, they would have asked me to move out in a month or so. but she has been there for almost a year now and she has made awesome friends. She is so helpful and noble at heart that it makes me jealous.

She is flawed too. If she wasn't i would have died of the burden of being born with a demigod. But its not the flaws that trouble me. There are things which i expect her to dissimilar me. But she doesn't. She is tempestous too. She is stubborn just like me and when earlier it was easier to emotional blackmail her, she has adapted herself to those and now she is just as unmovable as fate.

And then co-inceidentally, i expect her to think like me in a certain areas. But those are the very areas where she begs to differ. and these are too numerous to exemplify.

Thus, there arises conflict between the two of us. Oh! We've had our times. We have fought like crazy animals and we have fought like diplomats. But exactly 4 and a half minute later we start to talk to each other like nothing happened. And that, precisely, is the beauty of us.

We were born together. So she has seen more of me than anything else.

We have shared our solitude together. We have been happy (at times even envious) at the other's fortune. We have bitched together and about each other. We have hit each other (not just when we were children. And here, I'd like to add- however disgraceful it may sound- we are unapolegetic about those times.) and we have moved on with that without mourning or condemning.

Even today, she treats me as her consellor and confidant.

Even today, even if we have not spoken to each other for a while, we can choose to depend on the other.

She shares all my secrets. Even the ones that i decide not to tell her but end up telling her half or quarter of an hour later. She shares all my thoughts.

It is she who makes me a better person all the while. If it were not for her, i would have never been what i am.

Oh MY god, if she sees this post, she will cry tears of disbelief.

however sentimental she may be, underneath the thick solid crust, she has a heart made of old rusted iron. Several volcanoes together can melt her.

but she is an angel when she chooses to be, provided the circumstances allow.

I have an unimaginable way of loving. If you have seen the movie Avatar. You can't fly on a 'declan' unless the declan chooses you. And how would you know that a declan has chosen you - "it will try to kill you" OUTSTANDING!

i don't try to kill nobody. But my ways are unfathomable. only Nupur understands.

So here as you see, Nupur is an important part of my life.

See ya around.

Bus Rides

yeah bus rides.. they are fun my bike is not doing well these days. the spark plug is screwed. i travel by public transport to office everyday. it may sound like a bad thing you know - to depend upon public transport after having the luxury of a lovely two wheeler to act like your dialysis.
However, its not all that terrible.
that too comes in phases - while i am waiting for the bus at the bus stop, everyday, i tell myself, "this is it! i am taking my 8693 to the mechanic today and getting this sorted once and for all. this is the last time." but then i board the bus and i sit quietly and peacefully (refer previous post for details about peace - rather the shortage of it) and just gaze. There is nothing pretty to gaze, but i always think i should get an insight.
Its a wonderful experience to see strangers everytime. The best part of it all. That's one reason why i love the small term memory that i have. i forget faces, people, names, everything. (of course, conditions apply). by doing that i dont have a reputation to stand up to. i do my best to be the one that i think should leave an impression on them. and that impression is my choice. obviously what they think is entirely different. judgements, my dear, are just as certain as death, birth and taxes. so i just let them judge me of what exactly they remember. but i can always be what i choose to be. works for me. and i guess for them too.
so here we are - thinking about strangers. humourously enough, once i met a girl with whom i spoke for around an hour through a traffic jam and while bidding adieu realised that she and i shared the same name (first and last) and the same birth date, and we live in the same locality for almost 5 years now. Yeah! Humanity!
Bizzarre as it was, it was fun.
Thats the way it works. I haven't met the woman since then. Not that her existence is a life changer, but that was a hell lot of co-incidence.
Moreover, whenever i dont want to communicate with anyone, i dont have to frown, fake or detach. Its ok. nobody expects anything out of me.
the most interesting part is, i can easily be ignored. and that is an event which i derive extreme pleasure from. its a good thing to be ignored like i dont even exist.
everyday while getting back from work, i get a lot of time to think and observe how unfair life is not just to me but also to the immensely populated section of society which i have no idea about. serves me good..
feel like i am not the only one.
dont know how and why. i dont know if its right. but then what is?
so i just do what i think i like.
i like to believe that this cruel thing called life doesn't happen only to me. i like to believe that i am not the only lonely wretch in town. i like to believe that those strangers who look happy and pleased with life are just faking so. i like to believe that i am not the devil's favorite one. i like to believe that i can survive everything, just like everyone else. i like to believe that someday, somehow - i'll feel that everything makes sense.
and bus rides, in their own unique way, help.

see ya.

On Peace

Peace of mind matters to me. Like a lot.
More than anything else. even sanity. Yeah, i know i cant be sane for nuts but i cant be peaceful how much so ever hard i try.
if you think i dont try, you are wrong. i try. very much.
but i never happen to get any peace.

you could think that i am chaotic because i am alone right now. but i am not. like i am not chaotic in the true sense of the term. neither am i lonely (like not lonlier than i otherwise am). on the contrary, i have company. someone to make me feel that i need to be taken care of. someone to feel that i matter. someone to make me think that i might just be worth it.
Dear reader, (if any - that is),
you might be wondering "oh yeah! BIG DEAL" all of us have someone to make us feel like-never-before all the time. But not me. i have had someone make me feel like-never-before all the time. but not in a pleasant way. i have had that sort of a feeling only in sheer dismal ways. everyone makes me feel some abominable, detestable, despicable animal all the time. but this is different. over here i refer to the nice, peaceful, pleasant way.

"Upon the stairs I saw a man, who wasn't there; who wasn't there the other day, I wished to god he'd go away."

why away - that's another story. LATER. maybe.

however, let me not drift away from the topic.

i use the word peace pretty loosely perhaps. peace could mean anything to me. it could mean the glorious pain in the way those huge drops of rain slap my face. it could mean the smell of freshly fried french fries with garlic-oregano-cheese dip. it could mean a casual walk along busy streets of mumbai (or even the marine drive). it could be a certain time when i play with words like a violin. even when i just lie on my bed wide awake - like maybe waiting for the ceiling to fall on me, or for some hunky dory lizard to crawl up the 12th floor and sing love songs, don't know what. but i am just wide awake at times. thinking nothing. OK - thinking nothing relevant. FINE - nothing that i want to reveal. Not right now at least.
Peace is a funny word i guess. Why does it even matter eventually? don't we all die and rest in peace? So, is peace synonymous to death? On hindsight - is peace synonymous only to death?
Maybe my question really is why has peace begun effecting me so much? It's been a while now that that happened. Years ago, when i was all excited and eager to face the world and began MY life. It began on a good note. It was good while it lasted. But now when i think of it i realise i've had enough of that. when you reach out to the world to grab as much as you can, you may or may not land up with pieces of the world (i was the latter). However, the more you reach out, the more parts of yourself you tend to loose. And it always begins with innocence - you always loose that first. Then the sparkle in your eyes that signifies the entire concept of the earnestness. Then the warmth, the fear, the inhibitions, reluctance. and before you realise, you are out of everything - everything that may seem to be so little when you have it but when you come to see it, THOSE little things are the very things that we seek in the other people who we prefer to keep close to us little realising that those people also might be searching for the same worldly possessions.
These losses that i talk so un-frugally about; these and the variety of others that follow, come with their own phases. Like those of chronic depression, angst, aloofness, mood-swings (and i dont mean only for women - these are not the phases of PMS), there are a lot of things that cant really be fathomed in all these times. a lot of time - valuable time, mind you- is spent on trying to figure things out and wonder what has exactly happened and why things are working that ways.
in totality, before you even realise, you have lost all time for peace.

when i try and find the peace that i once had, i ransacked every imaginable corner of my brain, hoping that peace might have been unknowingly tucked in some closet or brushed underneath some carpet or some place that i could not find. but well, i was -as usual- proved wrong. It was nowhere. wonder why? i wonder too, but i dont really get an answer.

have you ever prized something too much but have not even realised when you lost it? like maybe an i-pod that was with you before you boarded the 22:08 local but mysteriously dissappeared by the time you reached home safely? or did you ever meet the guy you could die for in school a few years after your acquaintance and failed to recognise him for say 20 minutes? at least did you ever wonder what it may make you feel like?

it'll make you feel like your favorite love song was actually written for a sandwich
or maybe like the radio jockey whose voice makes you swoon is actually a girl (astonishingly enough you could bet your life once on the fact that its a guy)
or maybe like a revelation of the fact that earth is actually a barren cube and aristotle was only making fun of us all this while

hmm- i assume now you know what i felt like. or at least, so i hope, you have a faint idea.
i felt cheated. i felt cheated by my own belief. like there was this thing which i always believed i had. all the time. i used to believe that its only human to adapt and change. but even while we evolve ourselves, we still are just as peaceful as ever. but i never bothered to check the fact.
now i wish i would have checked. today i am not at peace with myself. maybe that's the reason why it matters to me at all.
anyways, thats the way of life i presume. it makes omlettes out of brains - crack crack crack- whisk whisk whisk and splat. all is gone before you realise.

********** i have been writing this post for 2 days now. and i have this tendency to not know when to stop. so i am going to get lost now. and if you, my dear, wasted time in reading this one, i feel sorry for you. It didn't make senses. like not the post - but the idea of reading it and trying to comprehend it. :)

anyways,
see ya around.

i'm alright.

I've been alright in all these days,
so alright that its beginning to hurt now
how can i?
its unnerving to know that i have not been obnoxious to living all this while. i have clung to life like a parasite whereas am i not used to it. so the obvious question - where have i been all these days?
i am specifically mentioning the question for the male readers (if any) because a woman would easily ask this, but for a man its so easy to see/realise/feel everything but the obvious.
and for the answer to the question!
i had been home - like to a relative's place. and how i love being at relative's places for festivals. specially when i get bullied like cattle for being horizontally enhanced. yeah! whatever!
but then there were kids... three of them. lovable at that - two of them were still toddlers. and i like, actually i abso-freaking-lutely adore kids who dont talk except in their own language.
so i loved that part.

and then, there was a abnormality in life. there was this time when i felt annoyingly important. important to myself. i was angry at my hair because it generally falls straight and nice otherwise. but it was all grumpy and dull when i most wanted it to be straight and nice. i was feeling fat (not that i am thin otherwise, but a lot more because of the bullying shit.) i felt the abnormal urge to be pretty which is exasperating because i love the idea of being the ugly wretch generally. its actually fun to be the ugly wretch you know. but i didn't want to be that. i wanted to be something that i am entirely not. its a bad thing, they say.
OK! i know they dont particularly matter. but even then. they tend to matter if they are a work of my magnificient imagination. (hah! of course. what did you think? a certain 'they' walk up to me for some morose reason and whisper stuff like that in my ears? haha)
so, let me rephrase. i think its a bad thing to want to be something/someone i am not.
WHY?
do you think i know?
i have no idea why. but yet, its a bad thing. lets just keep it at that.

so what happened? you wondering..
had been to a nice place for my first vacation ever.
clicked a lot of pictures.
but vacationing is so not me. its just that all the roaming around that i have done has been a different exercise altogether. like either with family pretending to be all nice and cute and obidient and stuff like that or i have been out for the entire day with adriana and his friends, where i am the biker 'babe' who can crack sarcastic, brutal smart jokes at the very spur of any moment, who can tolerate anything and everything - even pain. so basically i am not me ever.

but when am i 'me' exactly?
thats a tough question. although i know the answer, but not now.

and i have had a startling discovery in these days. and i am astonished at the normalcy at which i am handling that too. i have been nourishing a broken dream for a while. i always like broken/shattered/smashed possessions. they never fade. not even their memories. like i once told my the then 'guy' - you'd never realise how much i care for you untill i am not there anymore. that held true. now that i am not there anymore, i have lost him again. i have had gotten so used to the pain of losing him (or so i thought) that i assumed it does not matter to me anymore. but now, when i think of it, it is not all that ok. but i am - like i said - alright.
annoyed - maybe
cheated - maybe
lonely - definately not
peaceful - i guess
happy - whatever
alright - obviously

chill ! women are difficult to interpret.

chuck it. the more you try to understand me, the more likely i am to change right after you get a bit of it.

as usual - see ya around!