Yanna Policia

Yes. No no dont rub your eyes. No no its not even the computer screen. Thats what the Bangalore Police drive! A Bajaj Pulsar painted such that it resembles a cheetah's skin! Way to send the message across! As fast as a cheetah right? Who gives a damn that cheetah's are extinct in India

And you thought the Bangalore Traffic Police would be left behind? Wrongo!
The traffic police went one step ahead : instead of fancy bikes, they've given the word "incongruent" a whole new definition. Just look at the cowboy hats! Incredible !ndia isnt it ??

The Comment of the century

We were heading to Nandi hills one fine morning. So a couple of traffic police constables stop our taxi and after observing that all of us were new in town, asked for money as a "fee" for taking the vehicle forward. People didnt know what to say or do. Discussions. Bargaining. Panic!

Amidst all this chaos, Nagpal jumps from his seat and says : "Acha wo sab chodho, ye batao aap logon ne apne ghode kahan park kie hain"

The secret

In life we all have an unspeakable secret, an irreversible regret, an unreachable dream and an unforgettable love

The Past

Love the people who treat you right, forget about the ones who don't, and believe that everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said that it'd be easy, they just promised it would be worth it

A day in the life of a "proud" Delhiite

I want a new car. I have wanted one for ages now. Please register this in your mind, separately. This fact has nothing to do with what I'm about to share. But its important for you to make note of it. Anyhow, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, I was driving my car through the busy streets of Delhi's Laxmi Nagar area: a notorious are per Se, but we are accustomed to such notoriety in our lives aren't we? And I was listening to Hit 95 FM, some nice track playing, was humming along, waiting for the traffic to move. Wham! I looked behind. A Sardarji, on a scooter, with two females sitting behind him had decided to check out the sound my car made if they thwack it with their f**** two wheeler. So, Delhiite that I am, while driving, looked behind and barked abuses. Satisfied, I drove ahead when suddenly this skinny young Sardar started banging his bare fist on my window pane. I was baffled. Another Sardar (yes, another one, with many more to come) decided to see how my engine looked, from underneath the moving car. Fortunately or Unfortunately he didn't die. Heck, he dint even have a scratch. Should have at least fainted, for what happened moments later, surely warranted at least a little tiny trickle of blood !

So he escaped, only I didn't. The crowd gathered. Since no one had anything else to do, they all banged their fists on my car in unison. I was just a mere spectator. Broke my windshield, took my wipers home. Took me out of the car by the collar, and vented all their frustrations on me. You often see these scenes taking place while you're driving. But you just see, mull over it for a few seconds, and move on. I used to do the same. Now I couldn't. Because that thing with the help of which I would have "moved ahead" was being annihilated. With random people frisking me, barking expletives, standing right in the middle, I wondered about all those instances where I saw someone being taken to task, and never bothered to find out what was going on, who was to blame, and what finally consequenced. Back to the real world, so I was being thrashed, ridiculed and would most probably have been A) beaten to death. B)beaten till I passed out C)beaten till I heroically saw blood on my lips, and like the Bollywood heroes from the 80's beat the crap out of the 70 odd people, who would come one by one, and get beaten in a synchronized fashion.

Anyhow, so after all this, finally some nearby shopkeepers came to my rescue, thawed the enraged public and called the Delhi Police. Half an hour later, the PCR showed up. In typical fashion, took out a cardboard, On a blank sheet of paper, noted down addresses, names of who so ever they could lay their hands on. They left, everyone left, not before I had to apologize to the Sardars and not before they had whisked "kharcha-paani" out of me.

Apology : for driving in Delhi, and expecting not to be beaten up.
Apology : for not keeping a hockey stick or a revolver.
Apology : for being 22-something and hence leaving an impression that we 20-somethings get drunk all the time, drive rash all the time, have all the money in the world, so our fathers would non chalantly pay if we kill someone hither and thither.
Apology : for being a part of the system, where if you are outnumbered, you are outlawed immediately.
Apology : for being a Delhiite.

Now why I wanted you to register the fact that I wanted a new car is coz I ain't getting any in the near future at least :o(

denial

You.

i cant think of anyone but you. why ? i dont know. but its you and only you. Coherence falls to its knees with the effort to describe it. but ur like magic. you do something to me . no its not love. im too cynical for love. no its not lust. im too scared of lust. but something.

something

I dont know but i know. i smile when i cry and i laugh when im angry. you? i dont like u per se. i like whats in u. the difference. a dark lost fairy around mere mortals and ur floundering to keep urself intact. u dont know whether to reach out or to run into yourself. this is not an ode because i dont love u.

but ur like magic. and u dont believe me because u say that u dont believe in magic. u liar. Because u believe in it with all ur heart which u keep locked away. and now i see it .and now i know it. and ur scared coz its out. and i can see it clearly . now what will do? what will you do? what will u have me do?

but i dont love you because i am too cynical for love and too fearful of lust. love is not the magic. the magic is you and thats when Coherence weeps for me to stop . my head hurts coz of this nonsense. nonsense?! NONSENSE. im so strange im in love with a dark angel. oh god, oh no... i said im in Love..

No......

the nest

I have set the bird free,
free to fly away
for as long as she wants,
to as far as she wishes,
to make new beginnings,
to explore new horizons.

for i know,
the nest is where she'll come,
for that is where she belongs.

the lament

the lament of lost love, the repentance of them placing someone else before you..
you.. who had built a small world all around them.. who was content, with life and with the world,
you, who had learnt and taught, kissed and fought,
you, who stayed up several nights just to know their most irrelevant and whimsical of thoughts,
you, who thought knew them the way only you could,
you, who after everything, pretend to have recovered, only to realize that it has gotten worse,
you, who had believed love is eternal, unconditional, can only now call it superficial,
you, who had burnt every memory, every memoir, every little evidence of their existence, except for that one little thing, which you might never be able to let go of, no matter how much it hurts to seeing it lying there, staring at you, haunting you with past moments...
you, who would have ben by their side, all they had to do was call

shine on you crazy diamond

Here is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists, until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning. The only reason you suffer the shitty puss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. Fear or revere me, but please, think I'm special. We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on you crazy diamond, because we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others...

to let go

To let go does not mean to stop caring, it means I can’t do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off, it’s the realization that I can’t control another.
To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try to change or blame another, it’s to make the most of myself.
To let go is not to care for, but to care about.
To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own destinies.
To let go is not to be protective, it’s to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to criticize, or regulate anyone, but to try to become what I dream I can do.
To let go is to fear less, and to love more.

Mother of all problems

Inca had 6 mouths to feed, and hers too. She would concentrate on one child in each meal, while others would be served lesser proportions. Never forgetting any child, she would always keep a track of who's turn it would be next. She made exceptions for birthdays and ill health, but compensated for it later, mostly from her portion of the meal. A mother knows where to channel her love and loves each child equally.


God works in a similar fashion. If he takes something away from us and gives us grief of some sort that's only because someone somewhere is in desperate need of some good fortune or 'luck' as we percieve it. He maintains a perfect balance, a harmony. We feel disgruntled , misled into believing that god has turned his back on us. It's only because he needs to face someone else. We just need to wait for our turn.

Pen is mightier

A writer’s job is to imagine everything so personally that the fiction is as vivid as memories

Why do I still serve you?

I dont claim to have written this. Read it somewhere ages ago, its written by a soldier named 'Ali'.



How you play with us, did you ever see?
At Seven, I had decided what I wanted to be;
I would serve you to the end,
All these boundaries I would defend.

Now you make me look like a fool,
When at seventeen and just out of school;
Went to the place where they made "men out of boys"
Lived a tough life …sacrificed a few joys…

In those days, I would see my "civilian" friends,
Living a life with the fashion trends;
Enjoying their so called "college days"
While I sweated and bled in the sun and haze…
But I never thought twice about what where or why
All I knew was when the time came, I'd be ready to do or die.

At 21 and with my commission in hand,
Under the glory of the parade and the band,
I took the oath to protect you over land, air or sea,
And make the supreme sacrifice when the need came to be.

I stood there with a sense of recognition,
But on that day I never had the premonition,
that when the time came to give me my due,
You'd just say, "What is so great that you do?"

Long back you promised a well-to-do life;
And when I'm away, take care of my wife.
You came and saw the hardships I live through,
And I saw you make a note or two,
And I hoped you would realise the worth of me;
but now I know you'll never be able to see,
Because you only see the glorified life of mine,
Did you see the place where death looms all the time?
Did you meet the man standing guard in the snow?
The name of his newborn he does not know...
Did you meet the man whose father breathed his last?
While the sailor patrolled our seas so vast?

You still know I'll not be the one to raise my voice
I will stand tall and protect you in Punjab Himachal and Thois.

But that's just me you have in the sun and rain,
For now at twenty-four, you make me think again;
About the decision I made, seven years back;
Should I have chosen another life, some other track?

Will I tell my son to follow my lead?
Will I tell my son, you'll get all that you need?
This is the country you will serve
This country will give you all that you deserve?

I heard you tell the world "India is shining"
I told my men, that's a reason for us to be smiling
This is the India you and I will defend!
But tell me how long will you be able to pretend?
You go on promise all that you may,
But it's the souls of your own men you betray.

Did you read how some of our eminent citizens
Write about me and ridicule my very existence?
I ask you to please come and see what I do,
Come and have a look at what I go through
Live my life just for a day
Maybe you'll have something else to say?

I will still risk my life without a sigh
To keep your flag flying high
but today I ask myself a question or two…
Oh India…. Why do I still serve you?

Lighter Vein

A friend of mine who does not wish to be named once made a very remarkable comment which I cant help but publish:

Thank god its biologically impossible.... else I would live to see a day when my daughter would lose her virginity before i do :D

Reminiscence

What is it about the past? We reminisce as if we have never known happiness. As if content and satisfaction are alien to us. Often i find myself pondering what i should have done and said, and how my responses would alter my present from what it is. The downside of having a sharp memory is that you remember that bad times twice as much as the good ones. Like they say : Nostalgia is just like an english grammer lesson... You find the present tense, but the past perfect!

Musings

I stand in the crowd, find myself alone,
Can hear someone calling; I hear a melancholic tone
Someone’s crying for help, of that I am sure,
The voice sounds familiar, so innocent and pure.



I can hear the screams now;
they are coming from within.
These faces carry a smile;
the souls, they burn,
Day after day disappears;
there is nothing that we learn




I search for inner peace, I search for tranquility,
Where did all the love go? All the sensibility?
Wicked are the plans, the motives are ulterior
Are we animals or humans? Are we even superior?

Aal is well

My respect always goes up for people who show they can laugh at themselves. The sardar who tells sardar jokes, the fat guy who jokes about his paunch, these are my kind of people. They are comfortable in their own skins, and they get that we are an imperfect species doomed to self-destruct - somethings are just not worth getting het up about. The biggest human failing is that we take ourselves too damn seriously

Ideal World

In an ideal world, I would wana go out with you.. Then again, in an ideal world, you wont be such a bitch.