Monday, August 10, 2009

The Dark Road - Part 1


“And God said let there be light & there was light” the spectacled, unbelievably huge, Mr. Khanna said in his signature style and the entire class erupted into a burst of laughter. This was Delhi Public School; it was a school of taller compounds and shorter skirts. It gave all the boys in the school all the sexual food needed when they were hungry.

9th grade Nitin was a normal DPS boy, no different from the rest of them, having an appetite for a 90% mark on his report card. The days sessions concluded, bags were packed; it was time to head home. It was the peak hour at the boy’s toilet with the sight of the passing girls ruling their hormones, a testimony of the enormous masculinity that ruled their minds.

Nitin had to pass through a whole lot of streets before he reached home. Colorful cleavage filled posters of adult movies flashing across the walls of Paharganj seemed to scream at Nitin expecting a glare from him. He tried to look away from them but Kama had made an inroad into his heart, the road which opened in the left most corner of his eye. Nitin felt ashamed as he felt the urge to do “something”. He comforted himself with a scientific question “why does the actress look into my eyes all the time, even though I move from one place to another?” His eyes slipped from her eyes to the cleavage again.

Disgusted, he ran.

He passed through another street which his dad had referred to as the “Kaali Sadak” or simply the dark road. He was forbidden from taking that path to get home. Nitin never asked ‘why’. But today he was there, on the Kaali Sadak, on the dark road. He moved ahead looking at the road; he found cylindrical shaped synthetics called condoms. He saw women of all ages on the sides sitting on what seemed like display benches. Most of them were wearing sarees in a crumpled state, covering lesser of their body than it was designed to. Their hair style complimented their attire. All those lips which were painted in the color of love or in this instance the color of lust addressed the passers by as “Raja”. Nitin! Nitin!! My name is Nitin he wanted to scream like his throat was bleeding. There were sixteen cleavages to his left.

“Ek ghante ka do sau rupaya, condom ke alag se lagenge raja! sirf upar ka choona hai to… ”

Nitin ran like there was a train on his track, as fast as he could. Someone caught his attention, he slowed down. He wanted to see who it was, he turned around and saw a woman, adjusting her blouse. Aged somewhere around 30 -35, her face bore the an expression of surprise, thanks to the running incident. He now ran faster. Again, he saw a woman aged around 30-35 standing at his door. “Namaste Maa!” were the only words he could gather out , he locked himself in his room and forced himself to sleep.

The Next Day.

“Human reproduction is any form of sexual reproduction resulting in the conception of a child, typically involving sexual intercourse between a man and a woman. During sexual intercourse, the interaction between the male reproductive system and the female reproductive system results in fertilization of the woman's ovum by the man's sperm, which after a gestation period is followed by childbirth. The fertilization of the ovum may nowadays be achieved by artificial insemination methods, which do not involve sexual intercourse.”

Mr. Shastry showed a picture of a woman with her reproductive system open. Nitin watched all of it carefully and asked his neighbour “What age could she be, Rohan?”

“Ha ha, kyon yaar? She must be around 30 -35. Women are usually pregnant at that age.”

“Oh, ok”.

Nitin saw the cleavage of the woman in the picture, moments of him running back home and the lady in the Kaali Sadak flashed back at lighting speed. He closed his eyes, it was dark. He realized why it was called the dark road or what the grown up world had referred to as the Kaali Sadak.

The bell rang, interrupting Nitin’s thoughts. He didn’t quite like this particular thought which made him sink deeper into this new mysterious world which was still a taboo. He began comparing himself with the white silky salwar kameez clad men whose red lips smelt of greed and slightly turned cap spoke of their unending thirst for sex. His mind traveled through the darkest corners of the not so spoken about corrupt mind of men. When he flipped through his science text book to study, the ‘reproductive system chapter’ highlighted itself over all the other processes of the human body, he shut it close. Lying on his bed he thought if this was why, thousands of wars were fought, innumerable movies made, a treasure of songs written, and a million gallons of sap sucked out of the ‘Hevea brasiliensis’.

The images that had ruled his mind and thoughts in the past few days had been kept away; thanks to the monthly tests that kept Nitin busy, also that none of the questions from the reproductive chapter had appeared in the test.

His eyes expected and more impatiently needed to see that ‘cleavage’. It’s true, when you want something; all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it. The day the tests concluded, Nitin’s mind controlled the path he was going to chose to get home. He took the street on the left then a right and left again to lead him straight into Paharganj. The actress on the posters of the adult movie seemed to have had a lot of men’s piddle on her and pan spat on her face to add to the loud make up. The part of the poster that showed her cleavage had been torn by some desperate man who could not satisfy his thirst by just looking at it. Disappointed, and ashamed at the same time, Nitin cursed everybody around. He almost got hit by a bicycle when he walked on the road with a mind which now was an ocean of lust. All that Nitin cared at that time was the sight of the next poster where he could see what his eyes craved for. What exactly did his eyes crave for and why did they crave for it ?? were the questions he asked himself. He thought about it till his eyes celebrated the sight of a poster that was intact.

No scientific questions crossed his mind, no other thought even reached the surface of his thoughts. Of the four main goals of life followed by Indian philosophies (Dharma, Artha, Kama and Moksha), Kama ruled over him today. It had ruined cities, countries, men, women, families. Today it was the turn of a 15 year old boy.

He remembered the lady he had stopped to look at, he knew that she was going to be his key to this world which fascinated him more than the world of Einstein. He raced towards the Kaali Sadak, at a pace that defined his thirst. With his shirt sticking out, tie loosened and hair undone Nitin walked into the place where desires met destinations, thirst met satisfaction and “the masculine” met “the effeminate”. As he walked through the street of Kaali Sadak he looked at those houses more anxiously today, he looked beyond blouses and crumpled sarees of the women. He gazed at the colors of the wall, the fake stones, the ancient Indian monument of a man and woman in a compromising position, a phrase he had picked from one of the sex scandals that was published in the newspaper.

“Eh raja” a voice called out and next thing he knew was that she was pulling his hands. He was in a state of shock. Was it someone he knew? A relative? He froze his thoughts, gathered some courage and looked back, it was her. The 3 dimensional imagination of the 2 dimensional woman of his text book. It was the touch of a person he “knew”.

He smiled at her, she didn’t return it. He realized she was still holding his hand. An uncomfortable silence followed. Huge waves of embarrassment made their way into Nitin s heart as he slowly tried to take his hand away from the woman’s clutches. She was reluctant to let go of his hands, as if she expected the same from him, a ray of hope for a hand of friendship and not just one which could provide the dime that would make her treasure heavier. A 15 year old kid and a woman who has been a machine that is expected to make love to a thousand hungry men. Could they be friends? She finally let go of his hands with a faint smile that was going to haunt him in the days to come.

Today the scene of a 15 year old boy and a prostitute holding hands on Kaali Sadak, the dark street, attracted more attention than usual.


p.s.: Special thanks to Shwetha Nairy for her valuable inputs and editing.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Music - Kash Laga

Kash Laga from "No Smoking"

Lyrics:

Zindagi Hai Kash Laga 2
Hasrato Ki Raakh Uda
Yeh Jahan Pani Hai
Bulbula Hai Pani Hai
Bulbulon Pe Rukna Kya
Paniyon Mein Bheta Ja Bheta Ja

Kash Laga
Kash Laga
Kash Laga
Kash Laga

Jalti Hai Tanhaiyan
Kati Hai Raat Raat Jag Jag Ke
Udti Hai Chingariyan
Gucche Hai Lal Lal Gili Aag Ke
Oh Khilti Hai Jaise Jalte
Jugnu Ho Beliyon Mein
Aakhein Lagi Ho Jaise

Do Din Ka Aag Hai Yeh
Sara Jahan Dhua

Do Din Ki Zindagi Mein
Dono Jahan Ka Dhua

Yeh Jahan Pani Hai
Bulbula Hai Pani Hai
Bulbulon Pe Rukna Kya
Paniyon Mein Bheta Ja Bheta Ja

Kash Laga
Kash Laga
Kash Laga
Kash Laga

Chohti Hui Bastiyan
Jata Hoon Bar Bar Ghom Ghoom Ke
Milte Nahi Woh Nishaan
Chode The Dahliz Chom Chom Ke

Jo Aaye Chad Jayenge
Jungle Ki Kyariya Hain
Pagdandiyon Per Milna Do Din Ki Yaariyan Hai
Kya Jane Kaun Jaye Pari Se Pari Aye
Hum Bhi Katar Mein Hai
Jab Bhi Sawari Aaye

Yeh Jahan Pani Hai
Bulbula Hai Pani Hai
Bulbulon Pe Rukna Kya
Paniyon Mein Bheta Ja Bheta Ja

Kash Laga
Kash Laga
Kash Laga
Kash Laga




Monday, August 3, 2009

Music

I've decided to post lyrics and the Youtube video URL for some of the songs which I think are nice.

I'll start with Mehfuz by Euphoria.

Lyrics:

Zindagi hai dhuan to kya  
Bujh gayi har subah to kya 
Rootha mujhse khuda to kya 
Ho gaye hum juda to kya 
 Faasle they hazaaron darmiyan, 
Waqt ke they hazaaron imtehaan  
Fir bhi ban ke nishaan, 
Tere honthon ke kisi kone mein, 
Hansi ke tarah, main mehfuz hoon  
Teri aankhon ke chipe dard mein 
Aansoo ki tarah, main mehfuz hoon  
Bewajah har wajah to kya 
Begunahii hai gunaah to kya 
Beasar hai dua to kya 
Ho gaye hum juda to kya  
Raaz gehre hazaron bepanah 
Lafz thahare hazaaron bejubaan 
 Fir bhi ban ke nishaan 
Tere honthe ke kisi kone mein 
Hansi ki tarah, main mehfuz hoon  
Tere gesu ke ude pannon mein 
Yaadon ki tarah, main mehfuz hoon  
Teri aankhon mein Mehfuz hoon 
Teri yaadon mein Mehfuz hoon 
Teri baaton mein Mehfuz hoon 
Tere baalon mein Mehfuz hoon  
Faasle the hazaron darmiyaan 
Waqt ki thi hazaron aandhiyan  
Fir bhi ban ke nishaan 
Tere honthon ke kisi kone mein 
Hansi ke tarah, main mehfuz hoon  
Tere kaandhe ke chipe til mein 
Vaadon ki tarah, main mehfuz hoon
Youtube Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sJ_9pHTh5A

Monday, July 20, 2009

My first shot at Hindi poetry.

वोह ख्याल उस रात मेरे करीब आई रे|

साँसें मेरी भयभीत सी,
आँखें मेरी हारी हारी|
जीने का एक बहाना ढूंडा,
सिर्फ मौत मिली बारी बारी|

अल्लाह को पुछा, बता न सका|
मेरे बदन में जलती आग को वोह बुझा न सका|
अल्लाह ने ओढा चादर तो और प्यास मिली,
औरों की कब्रों मैं मुझे अपनी ही परछाई मिली|

मैं जीना चाहता था, मैं जीना जानता था|
मेरी आँखों में भगवान् का बसेरा था|
लेकिन वोह सब मुझसे उस रात चली गयी रे,
जब वोह ख्याल उस रात मेरे करीब आई रे|

Friday, March 6, 2009

Bitter Coffee.


I am a huge fan of movies which are based on Mafia and the Underworld as it is commonly referred to as. The basic plot of any movie associated with Mafia revolves around trust, betrayal, fearlessness, money and the most important, friendship. I would want to write down a couple of lines from the 1972 classic Godfather where Bonasera comes to The Godfather requesting him to punish people who destroy his daughter's life. He offers money in return. Lets just read the lines now. Here we go...

Don Corleone: We've known each other for many years but this is the first time you've ever come to me for counsel or for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though my wife is Godmother to your only child. But, let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship and you were afraid to be in my debt.
Bonasera: I didn't want to get into trouble.
Don Corleone: I understand. You found paradise in America. You had a good trade, made a good living, the police protected you and there were courts of law and you didn't need a friend like me. But, now you come to me and you say "Don Corleone, give me justice." But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my home on the day my daughter's to be married and you ask me to do murder for money"

Invitation for a cup of coffee? What is that thought doing in the great Don Corleone's mind?I kept wondering about this.
How important is a cup of coffee? I have spent countless evenings after my office hours in my house trying to think what actually Friendship is or may be what actually a relationship is. I usually do that with a cup of coffee in my hand looking at some of the pictures of my "friends" I made at college. The coffee tastes bitter and I end up being at a place where I began my journey, the state of knowing nothing.I make a couple of calls to some people and try to know how they are.I get vague replies and I'm happy with that. Some people call me really emotional, some people call me stupid, some people call me "the guy who hasn't moved on". Well it might be a case of God giving me a wrecked bicycle when he gave superbikes to the rest of the world.

My dad is a person who keeps telling me these wonderful lines which I can never ever forget. I once asked him what is the definition of money. He had a very superior smile on his face when he told me this - "I had thought that there is no definition for money till I came across this one somewhere, it goes, Money is what money does!" I said to myself then Oh thats simple and dint make so much sense to me then. Now today when I sit back and think about that definition my Dad gave sipping the last remains of a bitter coffee, everything suddenly starts to make a lot of sense to me, though the coffee seems a lot bitter this time!

The coffee is bitter indeed. All I did all these days was to add millions of spoons of sugar but still the coffee remained bitter. The great Syd Barret once said "If I were a good man I would understand the spaces between friends". We all are bad men at some point of our time and do not undertsand the spaces between friends. Our minds are driven so much by the mushy friendship songs that we forget that it is not our heart that drives the beauty called friendship but the neccessities that starts it and yes fortunately or unfortunately ends it.The transition from a bad man to a good man has to happen. It will happen.

Probably it will take me millions of cups of these coffees, millions of unanswered phone calls, millions of unreturned hugs, millions of "get over it man" lectures, millions of closed doors, millions of Pink Floyd songs, millions of glasses of vodka and millions of trips to Mysore to understand that. But I am this unlucky guy with this wrecked bicycle and I cant even see the world ahead of me on its superbike. All I see is smoke. Bitter smoke. Oops thats my coffee!

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I Hope - 1

I hope Sachin Tendulkar retires from cricket at the age of 99.

I hope Albert Einstein takes a rebirth.

I hope Marta Kauffman and David Crane come back with Friends Season 11.

I hope Pink Floyd listen to Emotional Attyachar.

I hope Cyberia 2009 is a huge success.

I hope free messaging is back again.

I hope I stand next to a smoking Prasad S I in hostel again.

I hope Heath Ledger is in heaven.

I hope scientists invent a Time Machine before I die.

I hope a UFO lands in HSR layout to make things interesting.

I hope A R Rahman wins an Oscar this year, every year.

I hope NASA is headquartered at SriHarikota one day.

I hope Anurag Kashyap does to Gulaal what GuruDutt did to Pyaasa.

I hope Chinnappa gets me some good beer from Germany.

I hope I breathe my last in SJCE campus.

I hope Prabhakar gets into a good B school.

I hope every love story ends the way it is supposed to.

I hope Vikas G P dates Chitrangada Singh one day.

I hope Nestle saves my time by manufacturing a 1 minute Maggi pack.

I hope there are more dialogues in our movies like "Iss mulk ne har shaks ko jo kaam tha sounpa uss shaks ne uss kaam ki maachis jala ke choD di"

Friday, March 28, 2008

It was raining that evening.


All the road I could see was wet.
Yet, a million drops fell.

I am desperate, I am being choked to death.
But hey, I have something to tell.

I wear a tattoo, a green coloured one.
Which obviously reads "Till I am dead, I am undone!!"
Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, I was waiting for that glorious call,
But as the Floyds sang, " All in all you are just another brick in the wall".

We were sitting in a circle,we were like the Americans.
We ate bread, we drank coke, we spoke about the Pelicans.
I saw a frog dancing, I saw a lover crying,
I saw Joey lying, I saw myself smiling.

I go there, don't ask me where.
I just see my friends there, I just saw a friend there.
I shine there, I cry there and look, even my words rhyme there.

I want this life again, I want these friends again.
But here he comes, here he kills, but hey whats his name?
I was desperate, I am choked to death.
But hey, I had something to tell.

init 0.