ekleipsis

much higher…

2008-10-31T02:40:00.000-07:00

Cold and shivering…I lay here awake.
Left without a soul, I’m ashamed to dream.
“Don’t turn away”…I begged myself.
I fell so deep, I rise… to fall again.

I forgot to smile or was there none?
Confined and frozen, tired of finding no answer.
My tears gone dry and my bones, weak.
I fell so deep, I rise… to fall again.

I called out but the voices inside me wept.
Locked up in darkness, I saw my heart cry.
My eyes bleed but I tried to reach the light.
I fell so deep, I rise… to fall again.

Don’t cling to me, I can’t fix my broken pieces.
Then a voice spoke in quietness, “Come”.
My lips felt a smile and my heart left me.
And I fell so deep, I rise… higher... much higher...

Ode to my brother. "I miss you".

The 'ping' called Bundooo

2008-07-01T05:13:00.000-07:00

"Hum kale hein toh kya huwan dil walen hein".
Hum dekhne mein hindustani, lekin dil mein saab 'stani'.

There's something behind that name called 'bundu'. (O! it's that lil' emission of gas that lingers... for a long long time! :p)
'It' is that mix of breed or a clutter of confusion. In the sense, some find 'it' akin to African cricket-hers while some often refer 'it' to express frustration – 'I'm bundood!!'. 'It's' loud yet a 'softy' inside. Sometimes I hear '...sk you' reverberating in my ears when I'm home on a lazy sunday afternoon, then I wonder if I heard 'Fusk you' on late friday evening challenge, at the pool table match. Talking of the softy inside, 'it' can melt if tampered much, well... 'it' spoke once that 'Girijabhai' still lurks in 'its' heart's core. So, I found out 'it' filled with emotions too.

'It' can stand in the crowd and still get identified, because once you register 'it', it's hard to forget that familiar uniqueness found nowhere. 'It' reminds me of the jammed recorder I had, it refuses to stop once it starts singing. Not that 'it' sounds bad, it's just that you don't feel like pausing 'it', in this case. I hope nobody chastises 'it', because mankind cannot bear such loss, it's lovely the way 'it' is. And everybody loves Bundooo.

'thy will'

2008-06-23T05:45:00.000-07:00

What if people don't have names??
I guess people would be labeled with sounds like 'oui!', 'cluck!', 'pss!', 'tsk!', 'shh!', 'nga!', 'poo!', 'ka', 'oink', 'moo', 'baah', etcetera etcetera. :)
Anyway, the whole name thing must've started inorder to distinguish one thing from another. Be it things, places, brands, clans, people or anything that comes along. So, it's inevitable, we‘re born to it and we can't live without it. The moment you are born, they label you with something they think sounds or look appropriate.

I have one and it’s kinda funny. I dunno what my parents had in mind, but my name is pretty amusing. Whatever..., I had it. After years, I came to know it means “Being wise” which is a value and I felt I should live by it. I guess I’m not the finest inspiration when it comes to being wise, so I later accepted the fact that it is my pursuit, rather. What’s intriguing me is what about those who have been labeled with some bizarre names as ‘bucket’? ‘lifebuoy’? ‘melody’? ‘Iron’? ‘lovejoy’? ‘Hari Hachi Bu’? I heard all these names from friends who told me they are Brits residue in small towns and villages during their 'Raj'. Damn inspired by the language they speak, whatever they learned became their children’s identity and the curse lived on. The most hilarious one I came across though is ‘Thy will be done’. Heard her friends call her ‘thy will’ in short... and i'm not kidding.

“Hari Hachi Bu”

2008-06-20T03:30:00.000-07:00

…is a philosophy of life.

…is where journeys find meaning.

…is what destiny depends on.

…is not too much but never too less.

…is what perplexes human mind.

…is what makes you think twice.

…is simplicity yet complex.

…is a fun thing to do and repeat.

…is a simple reason to stay happy.

…is an exercise all man need to follow.

…………is what makes Hari go bonkers!!! :P

Ps: got any more people?? do share...

Smoke begat Smoke

2008-06-19T06:27:00.001-07:00

Smoke
begat
Fire
begat
Survival
begat
Procreation
begat
Civilization
begat
Kingdoms
begat
War
begat
Power
begat
Politics
begat
Money
begat
Page3
begat
Silicon or Steriods
begat
Anxiety
begat
Escapade
beget...
Light a smoke...

For Al Pachino

2008-05-30T04:26:00.000-07:00

Smells Italian…

Carlisto made the rest of the men in the room drool in envy and fear. The room smelt of lust and vengeance while Carl stride across the dim-lighted underground den filled with men, wine, cigars, money, dominos, dirt, crime and women caressing poles and desire. The place was extremely dangerous as hell. Carlisto stood tall, fearless, middle-aged, powerful, with a defined beard and an accent that flashed aces and turned desperate heads to static. A face that puts men to shame and a name that pitted men to spite for not being born as Carl. A silk tie, vest, and a black suit that reflected sartorial magnificence and a die-for attitude, and intoxicated women. His toys were guns and his friends... his enemies. All the chapters of his life were gang fights, drugs and a deep longing to become a father of his illegitimate love-child to a women. Fought men and money, got beaten and bleed, ran after death, and dreamed of Paradiso. 'My heart won't give up. And I Ain't gonna chip out', were Carlsito's first and last line. Not much did Carl loose but a betrayed friend who tripped on sniff and orgasm. Soon...realized this pain and made him die without bullets. Like every great story, Carlisto closed his eyes with no regrets...'I'm tired...' and his visions became obscure and faded to black.

That's the Carlisto's Way.

SPF for thought

2008-05-28T05:58:00.000-07:00

Wikipedia on sunscreen: topical product that absorbs or reflects the sun's ultraviolet (UV ) radiation, and protects the skin from aging. Medical organizations such as American Cancer Society recommend the use of sunscreen because of the sun's many risks and damage. PS: Those in bold indicate harmful.

The more you know, the more you fret. Little did women know about the SFX (special effects) committed to enhancing youth and beauty. Ignorance evaded during circa so and so, long before the combinations of suncreen were tested on rabbits for accuracy and safe procreation (makes sense why playboy uses rabbit as ideal!). Nobody knew sunscreen, because everybody (including men) grew old and wrinkled together, while the next generation took over the older ones. And old ones were left to rot without mercy.

As the 'survival for the fittest' preached, re-enlightened by Herbert Spencer in his Principals of Biology 1864 (courtesy wikipedia), the war became more visible. The older women would exercise resentment by poisoning ripen damsels (like in Snowhite) or make black magic really work. But like everything else, these inhibitions of plotting voodoos, hair, nails, etc. came to pass. Some bloated brains' experiments in small garages discovered 'temporary morale booster' and named it sunscreen. The arrival of sunscreen was a comeback of battles against forces of life-cycle and the knowledge became epidemic, slaughtering mankind, esp. women. Today, women stands victims of it while they wait for a miracle to happen...maybe if not today tomorrow...or day after.

'A for Ekta

2008-05-25T22:50:00.000-07:00

Disillusionment is the other word for ‘k-serials’. Frail plots and loose art direction, slow, painful and exaggerating use of SFX.

My knowledge about this piece of shit hasn’t developed since ‘tu tu mein mein’ (a comedy plot about a housewife and her mother-in-law). It was then I use to watch and laugh aloud as a kid. Eversince, I haven’t touched the subject. Thank God! The little you know, the better.

A futile experiment gone big. The amount of money these episodes fetch is not funny… it’s serious. It’s the mother of all shows and every mother’s best friend. Star plus, initially the favorite channel is a now an asylum and mother to all fckd-up daily soaps of shit and likes. Startlingly, the highest TRP holdings in coveted prime time. An update to let you know the plight of filmmakers and where they look for inspiration to make big in filmdom.

The characters: multi-faceted, extremely adulterate; the mother is as young as the ‘bahu’ or even dreadful, the six-pack foundation, make-up and artificial lashes… accomplish a mother looking as young as her own daughter?? It’s scary!!

The shots: extensive use of slow motion, dramatic sound FX, like each of these shots have been carefully measured, you’ll find at least 7-8 different angle of the same shot and believe me, it’s torturing and total homicide. The same I experienced when we had to do surveys in college.

The catch: the giant leap here is the degree at which the director can play with scripts. Because of its nature, the flexibility of changing scripts comes at easy disposal. To retain the grip and excitement, the scripts change as quickly as introducing new item number girls on screen. ;p

Anyway, the rest being said, small screen still survives. and 'A' for Ekta Kapoor, if not for me at least for ad makers, the amount of intervals is unbelievable!!

No more comments!

Abujie!!! :p

2008-05-19T06:38:00.000-07:00

Rochü Abujie Meney = Birdie's diluted-poop stinks!!

A new sentence learned for those who peep into my blog today.
Tongue twisting and strange sounding too, but that's how everyone popularized the first Chakhesang word 'Abujie' in office!!

So, the next time you try to learn something shitty as this, unlearn or better master, 'Mo! Minu Abujie Meney Shie!!', to get an upper hand in this kind of crappy argument.
An interesting discourse about SHIT gone grosser, because the debate between these two sentences is... 'Bird diluted-poop stinks!' and the later one translates to... 'No! Human's diluted-crap stinks worse!' he he... Lessons in tribal linguistics over for the day. :P

princess

2008-05-19T05:57:00.000-07:00

Countless spams and a handful of good ones wouldn't interest hackers to my mail even if it was for a blackmailing purpose. Ironically, while many will disagree, I've found very few good reasons to take serious concerns about my "the password". Like for instance, when my first yahoo mail was registered, my password was as silly as my lil' head, something Alokish would exemplify as the epitome of very very bad password. Btw, my first password was 'princess' and it's not funny (at least not that time, and it was long long time ago...)

As I grew older my passwords became even more sillier. Films, song titles, wacky coined words, loony phrases, actors, men I liked, people I loved... and scarcely few complicated or sophisticated ones that had strange codes, signs and numbers and mystical meanings that will greatly intrigue people of Hari-like or tickle fraudulent but tech savvy geniuses. Well... a few easy ones that I rem'ber still functions while the rest has become a bad password history...

eye-opener

2008-05-16T03:34:00.000-07:00

Just flipping through the pages of the years I spend as a Segment Film Producer, 25 months back...

Couldn’t complain less; it was hectic, unimaginably tiring, believably real and shockingly interesting. And definitely, an eye-opener! believe me, all of these but not a misfortune.

I saw life, travel, weather, landscapes, culture, people, politics, adventure, food, pressure, sweat, gender... and learnt a little about 'em all. it started with no information about the destination, no contact of any guide and nobody to help. Thanks to google search and my unbeaten will, today I boast of memories worth recollecting and feel good about it. A few of those that tripped me completely were capturing the Dabbawallas (lunch-box deliverers), Kohli fisherman folk, the Dobhiwallas (the washerman), the Allepy snake-boat race, the Chinese fishing nets and the Bawachies (seaside chefs), the Vanilla, pepper, and such spices farms including the flying fishes and giant crabs farms, the wild-life reserve... the backwaters, the houseboats... and more.

I never realized I had so much fun till I left the profession and settled for something that fabricates make-beliefs. The ad world’s been my companion ever since. Hell! it's fun learning everyday and there's no end to it. T'day you can catch me accountable even for a tpyo eorrr!! i simbly olve ti!!

emotional jazzzz

2008-05-13T10:23:00.000-07:00

A new off-road hobby I have adopted lately is giving advices. Not because I enjoy doing it or I score at it, but because of frequent instances where to curb it has become impossible.

I’m known for listening to others, I’m born with it for all good reasons or none. It’s not the greatest quality; though it’s pleasing to know people turn to you during rough times. The task is easy, you be around (if not, at least your cell number), when they need you. I think people see you as a channel to vent out their feelings and find relief. Some of these one-to-one emotional drain are outrageous, some unbelievable, some silly and the rest, even more silly. But when the load reaches the brim, you feel you’re going to explode. So many stories and secrets keep seeping in without an exit! It’s a tough job to handle sometimes. You are tempted to exploit the little book of secrets to the few community network one shares. But obviously, you’ll be guilty and I can’t take that. As an escapade to all these frustrations, I found this lucrative way of getting back at them by being a bag that doesn’t only record but play jazz too.

the other day ‘She’ came to me and narrated her bit of love story gone bad. I empathized all the while. Thankfully, the story came to some conclusion, without any delay, I told her “I think, it’s time you make up your mind, 5 years is not a joke to still doubt a relationship’. Another ‘she’ came and shared with me how she hated a friend’s boyfriend and kept on cursing ,and waited for me to agree. I did, but I left a piece of my advice, ‘Why don’t you stop thinking of him and pretend he’s not even there when he’s around, you’ll feel at peace’.

I think I like this recently forced & acquainted hobby, though I feel it’s a waste of time because people are not very friendly with advices. But at least at the moment I’m loving it! ; p

big is always attractive!

2008-05-02T09:56:00.000-07:00

Anything big is attractive; it catches the eye and is an advantage for the one who owns it as well. It’s definitely not the first thing that pops in one’s mind. ;) It’s all about a bag! A big bag!

Unlike a bag which is small and pretty, a big one is always good. Great storage space and handy as hell. It’s like a Santa sack which can carry loads of things. One major issue here is that you end up pilling things – papers, bills, wrappers, food and many others which make your collection a little messy. But a big bag can always confuse those who find it a little absurd to be carrying such a huge sack all the time, when you have your pockets or a purse to carry your basics. They either think you have a rather weird taste, or just stupid. But with us who prefer big hand bags, we always find umpteen ways to use it. See, if you have a small bag, you tend to loose your belongings which is not a good thing for short-term memory people who often leave things behind, esp. when shopping. When in a scurry, you always have the advantage of dumping anything crap you think might come in use during the day though you end up not using at all. People have innovative ways of using a big bag but right now, I’m just using my big gold bag to flash some life into my style which has become a bore since I’ve not been able to invest in a nice new wardrobe. And of course, a new flashy big bag for all good and better reasons, and my frenzy fetish for bags.

the balcony

2008-04-30T02:46:00.000-07:00

it's the only place one can find solitude... or maybe not!!

i live in this apartment at Somajiguda, Hyderabad – the 7th one in 3 years. nice 2BHK (2 bedroom, a hall and a kitchen) with three.. no, 4 girls sharing the pad. a huge hall, 2 bedrooms seems kinda cramped when you have people loitering round the clock, that's the problem you face when you've lived alone for sometime and then you get introduced to what we call 'population explosion'!! Hunting a corner for yourself is a lil' tough then. Frayed already, I land on the balcony. Fine enough, if not the best, you get some fresh air, dry your clothes, plant a few flowers, light a smoke, pep a tête-à-tête over the phone or otherwise talk to yourself, and even retrospect about instances that made you feel horrible and wallow in pain and not feel stupid. The thing is nobody sees you and even if your neighbor does, they don't trespass. There was a time when my balcony was a great sightseeing place but now, it opens to the neighbors' room. So, their life is no more private neither yours.

Interestingly without being guilty of eavesdropping, you get a peep into your neighbor's territory and it's fun and evil too! The other day, an old women was on the phone, i haven't been able to figure out why, but i always have this thing about aged people, i go into this emotional trance and pain about what old age does to man – crippled, dependent, cranky, and ugly though a little cute without the teeth and all, so i thought i'll wave a nice helo! Instead she did. but the next moment, she started making weird movements, like a music director, she must've been lecturing to her son or daughter. so, i gave up and left her looking funny. Without trying hard, you'll always find someone else worth stalking again. A hairy towel-clad men on a phone came out from another flat, he was vividly visible but i saw him scratching all over including his front and back. for a sec. i thought it was scabies. it was gross!! they don't realize, everyone is being watched always and you can be caught in the act anytime! My focus frantically changed. it's easy as switching TV channels. then the sweet old couple. My eyes stayed fixed on them until she managed to scoop some food into the old men's mouth. they looked like a brother and a sister. it's funny but couples turn to look the same when they stay together for so long. I thought of checking for some more, but the activity became dull and before this became a hobby, I retired.

Mobile home

2008-04-16T09:51:00.000-07:00

It took me sometime to figure out what ‘living out’ is till I left home. At first I thought it would be easy. The next moment I was out and traveling on the back of an auto trolley with all my stuffs and a flat mate staring at me.

After much negotiation and emotional blackmailing from both sides, I managed to convince my folks that I need an outlet for all the education that went into making ‘me’. So, I left my home and migrated to mainland India, Hyderabad. I found a job, accomplished few things, made new friends, enemies and the like, and a new home. In the process of all these, my flat mate and I had to leave the pad due to the dramatic rent hike. The ordeals of finding a new home began. All of a sudden, the whole city turned against us ‘singles’. All periodicals, classifieds and brokers were scanned. Became victims of a few con brokers, lost money and sanity as well. Became prolonged guest and gate-crashers of every possible friend we knew that time. The search had to end somewhere, we reiterated. Alas! We found a house; we wanted to make it a home – brilliant flat, awesome locality, decent price but miles away from civilization. The hunt resumed again. With the pity of the gods, we found a house somewhere, and so began the journey on the trolley. Sat in the trolley with hundreds of onlookers wondering what tragedy struck the two of us. I sat mounted on all the stuffs, and a flatmate staring at me. The reason we used a trolley was to shift the 1yr stacked belongings and guard it as well. Everytime we found a house and settle to make it cozy and nice, it's already time to move out. My flatmate left me and so I had to shift again. To my dismay I had to move on alone. Finally, today I’m not on a search. It's the 7^th time I’ve moved out – accepting and anticipating forthcoming mobility and change.

digiital meter

2008-04-15T04:09:00.000-07:00

(Frustrations of a common man)

Forget the swearing and verbal combat. You’d wish for a meteor to fall and squash him…

Blurring the lines between what conventions you follow as a wannabe copywriter and a normal frustrated common man from ‘chinaland’ speaking in Hindi is one thing you definitely can’t miss, when it comes to minding your diction when fighting with an auto…driver. The feeling is mutual for anybody who does ‘not’ look like an Indian, neither from a distance nor upfront – deep eyes, tanned skin, and some hair on the face, in a nutshell.

Every time you step out from your 2BHK apartment, overcrowded with two sober working class ladies – one doped and one high on ‘what do I wear today?’ daze, and one happy non-working class female, gay and yanking all night. The irony is, she is an insomniac, while the former two labor to earn a living, the later sleeps, and when we return home to relax she's up and yanking again. But the truth is, we make a perfect three. and i miss them already.

Before I get lost in translation, I’ll elucidate ‘frustrations of a common man’. It’s the plight of a commoner to encounter an auto driver everyday!! Either they too smart or you’re too dumb. These cute three-wheeled scooters with hoods look ‘oh! sooo’ cute but ‘without the driver’. They agree to take you places and later complain being too far and ask extra fares, they tamper the meter, even the high-tech digital ones? Remarkably Yes! These decked-up mobiles have been empirical to us commoners in every way. There’s a different picture as well. Reminds me of one encounter when I had to buy no means empathize with one auto driver who bawled quietly and cried with a story in his heart. A melancholic moment if I rem’ber. He was singing with the tune from one of the old school bollywood flick “shisha ho ya dil ho… tuuth jati hain…” and it went on to the next which was even more mellow and sad… I felt like giving him extra change that day. I did, I asked him to keep the change. But he was in no frame of mind to thank me and left quietly, so did I. That day, I realized, many lives encounter disappointment though in different ways. I was left a different man. However, I was back to my frustration the next day when I sat in an auto that shelled me 40 bucks for traveling a mile!!