World at odds (WAO)

I saw a cigarette pack, lying dead on my table,

Once it has life, 20 counts of 74 mm sticks,

All have something in common, light golden bud full of aroma,

I knew it has death written all over it, but still

I took it myself and give it to all best of my friends.

Johnny once asked me “Why it is an cuboids, why not in a cylinder”

I told him death need more space and it should be fair.

I starred at that dead cigarette pack, for my amazement,

It has more style than anything in that room.

It can never be filled again; I did crushed it beyond any recognition,

I had plenty of it for the day, but need a few more before I call it a day,

A white pack was thrown at me; it was cheap and shorter than the last one,

But who cares I am sure even the costly one cannot filter death,

Smoking life slowly and slowly, with faint white smoke filling in the room,

It was an invention of life time; I wish it come with some weeds flavor,

I broke the cigarette in half to declare it was an end to the meet,

Many of you may not know, it takes lots of guts and dehydrated feelings

no one can question you When you kill the death in itself by half?

Labels: alternative, Blanks, citric, drugs, Fiction/flights of fantasy, Life, panthaism, rock

Friends, have you ever been a witness to a murder. I have been a witness and also feel contributed to the reason. It is an old story; I just remembered it when I heard this song “Shoot me again”. You be feeling I am too cold, talking about a shooting / murder in such a tone, hear all this crap and make your mind.

It was 10 year back; we guys have got new licenses to drive and never missed a chance for a long drive. It was a cold winter, when my friend Chiku asked me to accompany him to Chandigarh and back. He has to drop some boxes of apple and to be back to the city on the same day. He promised to let me drive till Solan on the way. It was tempting offer and I was in. By the way, I forgot to introduce my friend Chiku. Chiku is Chika’s younger brother, so being vibrant and conflicting was in his blood. He was a music junkie and our taste for St. Anger bonded us like anything. He been a rally champ, not exactly of Raid de Himalaya type, but the unofficial road rash we had in our small city. And last not the least he was a hunter, hunter like me, who love to shoot, but shoot with his Camera.

We wanted to start early and be back in town before the sunset, but like usual it is never the plan but the will that works. We had some other plans and for them to work, we have to be late. By 5 pm, we were free from our work Chandigarh and started our drive back to the city. In a hour we had entered Himachal, when Chiku stepped down the paddle and told me that we are still too early to be back home. I did not get what he was up to, but I had the hint. He had planned it already “ We are going through the rough road from Parwanoo to Kasauli and then Kasauli to Dharmapur and back to Shimla. The rough road has no traffic and it is the best to drive fast and got the feel of night driving”. I was in, who will ignore such a tempting drive. I have already seen the road, it was treacherous till Kasauli and it was dense jungle.

We tossed the coin and it was Chiku till Kasauli and then it was I who was going to drive till Shimla. We had this 1000 cc Maruti , only bad thing about it was it felt heavy when talking right turns. We plugged in St. Anger and started off. Chiku had brought in a map with him and he wanted me to be his navigator. He wanted to be a rally driver, and I have seen him drive any vehicle will excellent maneuvering and control. 3 Km down the road, I had no plan to navigate and left him to find his way. I thought he will slow down without instruction but he had made up his mind to reach kasauli in 25 min. I imagine, he would have been the first man to do so. I took to music and closed by eye.

I think we thumped into something. We were hearing to “Shoot me again” when it happened. It was a powerful thump; I was woken up from my sleep. I saw Chika face and he has turned pale. He looked into my eye and said seems I have hit something. I was also terrified and was afraid to get out. I was able to see few lights on distance hills and I was sure no human habitats will be nearby. I asked him to take reverse and get out of here. He said he is not able to do that. We had a torch and I made up my mind to come out of the car and inspect.

I was just praying, it should not be a human. To be amazement we had hit a Cheetal and he was down in front of our car. It was a big animal, I assume it was 200 kg and too big in real. I asked Chiku to come out and see what he has done. He had panicked and he tried crying, for killing a deer. I said shut man, it is an accident. Let me first confirm for your kill. I do not know how to check the pulse or heartbeat of the beast. I did not see any blood around and so asked Chiku to bring in some water to wake him up. I splashed water and it was all in vain. I had comparatively less emotion then to Chiku, due to my hunter origin. To make it more worse for him, was enthusiastic wild life person. Anyhow, I did not wanted to spend the place in Jungle moaning for a deer, which we have meet 5 min ago. I asked to Chiku to push the deer of the road with me, down the gorge.

He refused to do so and started crying like anything. The panic has set in; the beast was too big for me to drag along alone. We cannot reverse the car, we cannot move forward. Chiku said to me that Deer must be alive, we should take him to the vet and try to rescue him.” That was the last thing on my mind. I got little more insensitive and took out his camera from the car and asked him to take few pics for our kill for record. Bad luck, we had run out of roll. I was hunter from origin and something took me over. Why do not take this deer to the city? How many people would have killed this big deer? And if someone asked us, we will state this to be an accident and will have some pics to keep the records of incident.

Chiku by now, was pushing the deer, but cannot move it, I too started pushing along with him. After an effort of 1 hour, we were able to push the deer into the back of our car. Who is going to drive the car now? It has to be me, Chiku was too crushed. I was sure, he will be happy, when people will talk about his kill. I took the wheel and he took to his handkerchief. I drive slowly. I was trying to convince him, it is not that bad to kill animal. But he was a nature lover and loving heart. I was cold like a hunter, thinking this to be surprise prized kill, to be talked in ample.

We have moved few corners towards Kasauli and Chiku by now has stopped crying. I was driving cautiously, the only thing in my mind was how we will explain this to his father or people back home. We have no business on this road. I asked Chiku to cheer up, but he was in deep grief after killing the deer. I was assuming it may be end of a promising career, wish If I would have navigated, he would have got more time to break. Any how I was sure people will like to cook and eat this beast. I have heard they taste good. I was in all mood to take mileage out of this kill and was thinking to have different versions of stories to tell different people, depending upon their maturity and sensibility.

Chiku has gone in state of shock, for him it was a murder of a living being and I tried my best to explain that this is a kill. Chiku was not in good mood to hear my logics and then I thought to sooth the atmosphere I should play some music. Metallica was back “Shoot me again, I am aint dead yet?” How cruel to be song of the moment. But I let it carry on, as other songs would have been more inappropriate for the moment. Chiku was still frowning like a frog. I was possessed to claim the prize.

We were just on the verge of the Kasauli town; I had started seeing lights, when something hit me hard on back of my seat. It was those rare moments when I got it right the very first time. I stopped the car on the middle of the road and asked Chiku to get out of the car; the beast was alive and kicking. We two were out of the car; I was in shocked state and was thinking about what will happen to the car, If I remember correctly I was shouting like hell. Chiku had a smile in face, he was contrast to me. He went toward the car and softly opened the door; the beast jumped out, stared at both of us and galloped into the darkness of the night. It all happened so fast, before I would have been out of disbelief, Chiku was at the wheel of the car and pumping the horn for me to get in.

I was silent for my restlessness, I did not what took over me there, it was a primitive instinct I thought. I was planning to cook the beast when reached home and my friend was thinking to moan for him for rest of his life.

We did not talk for the rest of the way, until the track “Shoot me again” played again. Chiku asked me not to talk about the incident as no one will believe us and will mock for rest of the winter and was sure it will go on for rest of our life. I said “We had the smell of a beast trapped in our car, it won’t go off easily”. He said shut up and listens to the music.

We never talked about this incident to any one and this is the first record of the incident. I am not sure how much you believe me, but I know Chiku will testify for this one day of his life.

You are hit by devil and taken away by angel, if you have lived blind till last breathe…………

Labels: Abusive best, Ankoen dekhe, Fiction/flights of fantasy, Generic/vyom, Life, panthaism

I yesterday proclaimed, I cannot focus for long time. I have to regret this has been a weakness. I am not focused, has to do loads of things and end up doing nothing. I have been good in much stuff but have not mastered any one of them. I will stick to this blog, till technology come up with something more radical.

I was thinking how I will be writing the Story of Dusht. It will be asynchronous in nature. It will be based on chapters that may or may not have relation to the story.

Chapter I Melancholy Jack

It begins with the tragedy of Colossal.

I first met, Melancholy Jack, 8 years ago in a bar. He looked depressed and out of sorts. Only thing I have known about him was that, he was the best young computer nerd in the college. I was with my friends when Jack asked to join him. We were freshman and he was sophomore. How can we decline free drinks, but it was not easy, to gulp drinks at that table. Those were soaked in Jacks‘s tears. He was known as king of tragedy. I did not understand, what does it implied. Puma sitting left to me told, more the wit you have, more sensitive you get to the surroundings, this makes you react and even weep. Who cared at that moment, I was carving for more of Old monk. By grace of almighty, I stood those 3 rounds of utter tragedy, when all my friends required slipping to washroom. I had the refinement to accompany jack in his misery. I asked him “who are the gals that left him, which makes him cry?” I always suspected Engineering colleges have few gals of interest and added attention to give your sorrows. Jack was not crying for gal or grades but he told me it is in his nature to enjoy the sadness of the moment. I was too drunk to understand what he said. I showed courtesy for the next few rounds of drink, till we too get broke. I assume at moment of time, it was the most engaging and life changing discussion with a man of wit and humor that was so out of time and age. He told me he feel sad for everything that should have been right, if we all have cared. He feel sad, if the tree he had seen falls, he feel sad, if the river he has swam is tamed, he feel sad if the music he hears, is inspired ( cheated from others). Even I agreed to the last point. I asked him, do you like to be high? Nope, but yes, he felt this help him to be sad about the state of affairs. I too asked him “Why he is the best programmer in his batch, when he does not even care for study?” He said it was a myth created for him sleeping for the first half of college that he spends all night writing those magical scripts. He was even sad about the state of education, but then who is not is sad for education.

We called off that day, being carried away by our batch mates to our hostel, this resulted in more get to gathers, over a period of 3 years, where he was as sad he as ever as the last weekend and I was as obedient to understand, is that how things are bad around us. He got placed and left the campus, we kept in touch over mails for a year and so, until one day, I too get observed in the life of after years.

I meet him, 3 days ago in a city Pub by chance, he still has not changes, he was crying like old that was enough for me to recognize, it can be none other than Jack. Through my social network I had come to know, lately he working with some big MNC, who made some computer Chips, I think it was called Intel. He sticking to that place must be a sad place of epic proportions. I said Hello to Jack, and to my amusement he did not recognized me. He was deep into his sorrow. That is the strangest introduction I used, but that’s what I said “remembered me, I cried a bit with you, when he blew up a server up in college days.” I cried for him thinking he must be crying for getting into trouble, he was crying for affecting work of many more students. He had a grim smile on his face and stood up to give me that brotherly hug. I joined him and I was sure, now tears will follow in abundance. I asked him, do he feel as sad as ever, or has changed? He took out a note out of his pocket and gives it to me. I read it and was surprised; he must be crazy if he is feeling sad about this? He was asked to move to his Company’s HQ in US. Jack are you nuts, people will do anything to get such as opportunity. But guess, it was Jack, he need to be sad; he can’t survive without his melancholy thoughts.

He told me, he changed once in life when he has fallen in love with Kira, after graduating out. He forgot what sorrow was; he enjoyed the moments of life and looked forward to change this world by smiling at it. Then one day, someone took everything away from him. Kira moved to US and he was left alone again. Jack worked hard to be with her again and today he got his letter to fly to US. Jack my friend, sorrow is not the emotion of hour, you should be crying in happiness.

Jack told me, he now does not want to go. I was not getting his state of mind, but it can be affect of few extra ml of alcohol in your body. I asked like a religious friend “why Jack, do not you like to be happy and cheerful with someone for rest of your life?” Yes I want to be, but that is not possible, they have terminated Kira forever. I think that was enough for me to understand what has happened with my poor friend. I felt sorry for him; you first took a man love and then terminating it. It was really an hour of sorrow.

We had few more drinks, that evening and I tried best to cheer him as this sorrow of his was not something he has to live or die for. Kira had been in life of quiet a few people (my guess), few must have felt sad like him and few must have felt relieved. I loaded him off on a car, when I felt sorrow in my heart as well. How will be an artist feel, if the statue he carved for years is demolished in front of his eye. It was his project, he nurture it like his love, start to live a life to lose it all over again.

This is work of fiction and Chapter II will be dedicated to Fighter Ola ( He lived like a king, he died like an emperor).

 

“ Nothing saddens me more than, the poor state of mind”…..Jack

Labels: Alcohol, Blanks, Generic/vyom, humour, Life, Manthan

The cliché “keep working, he is watching you, will get what you deserve.” I cannot bear this forever.

I had one weakness that is not able to focus on long run. I will put one science fact across, I am sure your science teacher must have told you. Have you noticed the ziz zag motion of a particle in morning light? Like me few of you have done the ill attempt of catching them unsuccessfully. This must happen to us or this is what happening to us?

What I write often is my outlook of the new age society which is developing like a burgeon. The thunder and the lightening strike make it pop out of the ground. It is poisonous, it can be medicated, it can be dusty, it can be beautiful, and it can be anything. It has been pleasure to see the joy and misery of this society. I was growing up with socialist ideology, to become a capitalist, to be cheated to be one non conformist of this society, to one who discovers there is no society, to understand what I see now.

I am scared of akrosh that is building up in this society. It is going to be a disaster; I think this must be the feeling of great civilization of lost. The perfection, the order is the biggest sign of doom.

I do not know, how to take out my anger, it is like beating a drum till it explodes. Science cannot help me, as it has no pill for anger management. Society will call me a misfit, but that will also not going to solve my purpose; it will only lead to deterioration of existing harmony.

I had to take the Readon path and have to abandon this basic set up of society. It is too unrealistic to be liked by me. But I am weak, I cannot emulate my heroes, they were in fiction. I cannot imitate the air of thoughts; it never takes the solid form.

The disgruntled enchantment is going to be there, for you and me, who had seen the new age. I can be sad for a day, but I am destined to live happy. I am too strong to be consumed by meek surroundings. I still not able to give up hope and that what has made me the Iron Man of my own comic.

And for those, who have read me more than Aristotle or Plato “ The joy is being knocked out once, not in getting defeated all along”.

Labels: Abusive best, Ankoen dekhe, citric, Fiction/flights of fantasy, Life, Manthan

If you have read or heard about Blink, you must have known this line “ power of thinking without thinking”, hope I am quoting this right.

I am going to introduce to my second short story. Ok I have written a few, but I do not consider them something worth publishing. The first one I end up writing was called “Café heart broke” than now I just call it Broken. It is an intriguing story of hearts, failure, success, heroes and despair. I love it and it is close to my heart, I wrote it back in 2003, so you can understand what kind of mood and genre it may fall.

The story, I had in mind is right now is immature, I am not sure who to portray it. It is called “Dusht”. It starts somewhere and ends nowhere that what right now I am not able to pick. Devil, never know he is devil, it’s in his nature to be like that. He is discarded, fended off and destroyed by those, who know he is devil. He fools himself to believe he is no devil, he fools the others he is not devil, in the end he do what a devil do.

Devil is not the right word, but the word should be mischievous sprite. I may right this soon, just let me strike that perfect chord and he is going to be visible.

If it had been you,

I would have known the existence,

If it had been me,

I would have known the purpose,

But I know him to be Dusht,

No purpose no existence,

He knows disruption and disconcert

3 circles, one center,

Same area, different perimeter…………….

Labels: alternative, Blanks, Generic/vyom, Life, Manthan, panthaism

It is Sunday morning, I had so many thoughts eclipsing my mind, which I am left with a conflict what I should pen down.

Clemency, this word echoed to me in my dream. Why my unconscious wants me to remind of this word? I want to confess of certain type of psychic power I have felt, but the diminished nature of them, has prevented me to claim, I posses one. I feel the future, but still not able to map and remember when it is going to happen. The incident happens, than it hits me, I had already lived this thing.

Coming back to Clemency, this word will now have a strange relation with me. I do not remember things around it, so it is up to me to create a web of real and unreal around it.

I be in those strange situations, where I forgot myself,

I be in those unpleasant miseries, where I do not remember myself,

Curse of mind, wretchedness of being human, it do happen to me,

I ask for mercy, compassion and forgiveness from all those whom all love me,

I cannot help myself I am lost for few of those moments,

It is not in my nature to be like this, but I have no bearing to be what I am then,

I am no werewolf to be precise, but I am like that only,

I do wonder, if you all are like me, as I see you breathe and crawl like me,

Confess, to you all, I have bliss of being the real me, for fractions when I am not with you all!

I do enjoy this too, embrace me for what I am, it is not in my control to be what I am and what I am liked to be!

Labels: Abusive best, Blanks, citric, Life, Manthan