yippiiieee i’m so depressed i cud starve to death!

with 151 rupees in my bank, this is the poorest i’ve been in 3 years.. i’ve been promoted today.. what an irony. Cant see what is so good about it anyway. I feel i’m wasting time waiting for three years to be over. I feel i sould get myself some peace and quiet… cantt even enroll for my trip to ladakh.. as i’m bankrupt to a level i cant eat.. if it wasnt for mom.. i would be starving now.. what am I doing here? as someone who enjoys depression.. this is the happiest i shd be. Complete lack of social skills notwithstanding i have still made it this ffar. congratulations !!

introspection..

As I sort the darkness with my bare hands,
the thorns of the night sting me to a trance.
I might have seen light, could be my imagination.
have I ever known the meaning of illumination.
my face that i cant see, feels cracked and corroded.
but why so much darkness ?

my eyes are turned inward…

Bachelor pad

I am about to move into a single aptmnt from next week.. Life starts again. Hope the experience is good. It is a bit on the expensive side. in Saket. 1bedroom hall kitchen setup. I fell for the kitchen by the way.. see you with pics of the place once i do it up.. ideas are welcome for a bachelor pad.

@@$$%#%Q%^….

Just how long do you convince yourself that your inability to just exist is a passing phase?

when do you decide this is enough? and how do you decide how much is too much..

At what point do you say I’m done?

Fuck

I wish I knew..

pointlessness is getting to me, I can feel the vacuum in my marrow.. and I cant even crash and break anything anymore…

MotoNirvana…on a bullet

Here is what you need to achieve salvation on top of a hot and throbbing mass of chrome.. strategically placed between your legs..

1. A stupendously well surfaced ‘real’ expressway like the one shown here..

2. An inspiring base city to start with

3. Plenty of time to waste

4. A bullet, any make as long as it is run in, preferably some 3000 odd km old.. or rather broken in.. the way Nandan and the bullet itself would love you to.

5. A strong horn

6. You ( with enuf testosterone still left to take a little risk in life )

So I start my trip to Greater Noida.. from Delhi. Just to explain myself a bit here, there are only two real expressways in the country.. One that connect Mumbai to pune, and the other that connects greater Noida to noida.. ( The DND flyway that connects Delhi to Noida is just fine.. but something that gets over in 15 min of riding.. aint gud enuf.)

Nothing worth writing about till I reach the Sarai kale khan – ISBT- DND flyway turning on the way to Ashram.. and then the drama begins..

The DND flyway itself is like a dream road of sorts, you see mercs and BMWs doing what they are best at.. speeding, with the under belly almost touching the hot tarmac. And when you haven’t seen anything better, you think it is great!. The signs on the roadside look fancier and fancier as you move ahead in the six lane jet black road to NOIDA..the world seems better all of a sudden.. I hit 80, and as usual the bullet wouldn’t budge any further.. and I don’t have enough clearance to go full throttle on it.. I give up and stick to 80kmph. The bull is straining. Then I go and make the stupid mistake of taking a wrong lane into the toll plaza.. and make the unforgivable act of riding opposite to expressway traffic, for some 50 meters.. to enter the right lane. Whew! The toll paid.. I enter the paid stretch of the flyway, and in a blink, its over. I wasn’t expecting anything more. So I move on.. not knowing how far this place called Greater Noida really is from noida.. and move on along, taking my cues from the wonderful signboards.. A nondescript sign board on the decently surfaced four lane road says :Noida -Greater Noida expressway” and a turn await me ahead..

And then, a vision unfolds in front of me in all its unfathomable splendor!. A straight wide and empty road with a thousand lamp posts lining it as far as my eyes would let me see. And my lungs vocalize my excitement and surprise with a strong gush of wind.. i grin to myself and twist my throttle…

The Electra heats up and rattles up a metallic storm of sorts as I push her beyond her – till now- limits. The beast refuses to cross 80 no matter what. The road turns, and I decide to slow down. After some 10 kilometers of cruising at a stable 80, I turned my face sideways to overcome the wind gush on my ears to focus on the engine and exhaust sounds, all fine till now, the valve tick has become very loud, but still very much in happy rhythm. I decide to go for the kill. With a quick turn of my wrist, i max out her accelerator. Now it is up to the bike to interpret my actions.. I refuse to let the accelerator loosen. She gets a hint, and the needle starts to cross 80 with a doubtful jerk, it moves and moves till the halfway point between 80 and 100, ninety. I slow down, as I can feel the engine straining under neath my legs, and a crazy new vibration settling in. I ease off the throttle for a full minute. And then I go again. This time the lady is more responsive, the midway point is reached without any doubt. But the needle refuses to go further. And given the fact that the fastest I have ever driven a two wheeler is 80, and that I have felt a bike hit 100 only by sitting behind one of dear friend’s pulsar was also playing a part. A part of me was holding me back, and so was a part of the bike.. The needle by now has moved ahead towards the 97 km mark. And then.. as a plethora of new vibrations set in and the engine start to wail in new sounds.. I ease her off. Still not at 100. I try again after 5 minutes. The destination is just 3 kilometers away and the stretch of straight road in front of me is going to end soon.. I have to try it again. So in another 30 seconds, i ready myself to hit the magic number.. 90 was easy to reach from 80. She has now become used to the speed. And 97 was reached too. Then I just slouch down and let my body close to the tank..The lock of my open face cruiser helmet tugging at my neck. I prepare to arrive. The needle vibrates heavily as I cross 97. I am focusing on the road as much as I can while glancing at the speedo without loosing focus. And then, the lady enters a completely new level, of sound, of vibration, and feel. I could tell it was crossing the 100 mark without looking at the speedo, and my glance at it didn’t contradict me either.. She held on for some 15 seconds. And the I let go. Cant stall an engine on a freeway some 38 kilometers off my home, can I? I reach this city called greater Noida in a few minutes, and it looks liek a scene from Resident evil 2. Deserted streets with little or no human presence. large imposing buildings.. half built, built, and left.. great infrastructure and no people!.. Well there will be people, this is India and we are good at producing people…

Mission Greater Noida done in about an hour, I get back on my chrome goddess at 5.30. And this time, the trip was going to be different and I knew it.. I knew the road, I knew how long it would last.. and I knew my electra could do it. So without thinking twice, as soon as I hit the freeway, i max out the babe, and she responds like a grasshopper touched!. In a matter of seconds, she is on speeding ticket territory. And I see the hot and 100dised engine respond to my every wish, which now was only more speed. The speedo hit 100 without a doubt or a delay.. like she normally does 80. And then, for some 12 kilometers.. I keep her at it.. occasionally cooling off for a few seconds every two minutes or so or so. by now my body is brimming with endomorphines and I start singing as I speed down one of India’s most beautiful roads.. I have hit my own 100, on a bullet! the bike I was scared to buy.. ride.. and even test.

As I settle myself comfortably at the century mark on the firm seat, I say more… and she obeys. The babe goes to a place just under 110, I think she hit close to 107 on that peak. I bring her back in 4 seconds to 100 and I cruise along.. sitting in commuter style.. minimally slouched, wind blowing my shades into my eye sockets.. flies hitting my forehead only to smash themselves against it.. and i cruise at the magic number for as long as I reach Noida.. and I soak in as much as I can from the speed as I can.. Stopping for a juice break at the entry to DND flyway, i take her effortlessly to 100 straight, many many times. and as i enter the city past the openness of the roads I left behind. I can see that my bike has become a completely new person now. The chrome goddess responding to every little twist of my throttle with eagerness.. like she just found her voice after an intense throat clearing exercise. As I parked my baby at home, I check the engine temperature with my palm, I touch the disks to find them warm, and as I locked her up, I pat her on the tank ad blow her a kiss. The little schoolgirls of my neighbor looked at me with amusement. I smiled to myself as I walked away from my dream machine, i am a bulleteer now.. I have earned it. But I wont become a complete bulleteer, until and unless I make the ultimate motorcycling pilgrimage to ladakh.. and that my friends, would be an epic post.. Will warn you beforehand. I promise..

How .. she became mine..

The bullet .. is what I ride these days..

She is six months old, my girl. She is no baby though. She has some 18bhp of power, drinks plenty of petrol and is quite a nut case when it comes to music thats all metal!. She’s my electra. Ah yes, she is one of those machines that people find irritating, intimidating, or just plain old. Well I was always in awe of those machines since I was a kid. in fact, even as I crossed my adolescence through the dark alleys of life trying to hide my extra-ordinarily thin frame and unmanly traits from the aura of my undesired, unwanted fame. It was a terrible 10 years.. and more that I lived trying not to be seen, but always pulled into the limelight by the other side of me.. that could get everything done..as long as it was not physical.

Well life changes you, you change life as well. College was not so hard, fame had subsided considerably, but the dark alleys kept me safe, though I could now wander out into the light and not be afraid. The bullet, never ever made an appearance as a future mode of transport ever in the 24 years of my life..never,

Then I did my masters, got a job and i move in to this big beautiful city.. of wide roads and green trees..

I now was in a position to look for a mode of transportation. Bike made sense over car now.. but which one? The pulsar was everywhere, hence my attitude driven side says no..after a lot of thought and research, i decide to buy the ahem- eliminator. And then! my best friend asks me.. weren’t you the one who wrote a long piece on how the eliminator was a terrible bike!.. chapter closed.. I don’t go back on my word. So what do I do?

“Bullet lele tu” says my roomie. I laugh it off.. as I had never ever considered myself capable of riding one..but then, pride is something that can make you do things you never knew you could.  I go to check them out. And boy! am I sissy or what? saw it, and almost pissed in my pants as I randomly checked out her engine block and gearbox. The thing looked so bloody heavy, I could easily see it would take three of my sized kids to move one.. I folded my tail neatly between my legs.. and ran for life..

“I cant handle that” i kept telling myself for two days, and then, I was so ashamed of my own cowardice, I decided i would take a test ride no matter what, no matter how embarrassing it would be. I pictured scenarios in my head.. of me trying to take her off the stand.. and failing .. people laughing around me.. me trying to kick start one .. and failing.. people laughing..

I had nightmares the night before i planned the test ride..  i shuddered to think of going there.. I pulled myself back a million times.. and then the damn auto reached the shop.

Test ride was asked, and offered.. it lasted 5 full minutes through a crowded street.. and that 5 minutes has changed my life..

Six months after that knee jerk, testosterone driven decision I am the happiest when I am on my Electra.. I love her. But what I want to let you know,  is that this is the only two wheeled vehicle in this country that can make you feel like you own something special, for a long long time..which will make you feel good about being able to handle it. And one that genuinely is an emotional and sensitive vehicle.. she responds to love..  and her response is directly proportional to how her chrome sparkles.. I have covered some glitch less 4000 km in this six months. (All horror stories people tell you about bullets.. is “obviously” due to lack of attention to what she is trying to say.. lol)

In a nutshell.. this is what you get when you buy a bull

1. Tremendous respect on the street, and a lot of questions and stares at traffic lights..

2. The best riding experience sans the speed and gizmos ( dont ask what is the ride experience then….it is not about the speed dude.. )

3. A lifelong relationship with a community of fanatically faithful men and a machine that you can gift your grandchild in working condition

4.  GuruNandan and his online/offline help

5.  An image makeover if you need one..(attitude included)

Go get one if you can.. i got to go sleep . ( BTW I have been gymming for the last 2 months just so that I can do a decent job of pulling it out of a parking lot! _ Things a bullet can do to you!!)

One night on a Special Train! ( Thats the name of the train )

It was a small function at the church… and a small lunch with family… but it was suffocating. Mom and I, still pretend as it did not happen. We sleepwalk through our lives, rather nicely. Dad… I don’t even know what to say now. I am at a point in life where everything can go wrong at this moment. I want to crash out. I want to drop the ball. I didn’t do it at the most critical of hours… when you left, but one year later…I want to, now.

Bonus track: The boy’s train journey was bad, the boy couldn’t sleep. There was a babe in the next compartment; and there was another boy in his opposite berth. Boy was going for a very depressing function at home. Babe, was with her family.
Babe was checking the boy out like crazy; boy was catching glances while he read his “outlook money” in different positions as babe shifted in her seat. She was clearly interested. But so was the other boy. The other boy was more communicative; he started a sign language talk with the babe which the boy going home couldn’t understand. The babe somehow could. Babe responded to him too…Boy wanted to push the other boy out of the train, but luckily the other boy fell asleep as babe’s father took too long to sleep. Boy was insomniac from depressing thoughts about failures and losses and death anniversaries. So instead of pushing the other boy out of the train, he did something smarter. Boy followed babe to the rather clean toilet of the adjoining A/c coach at 3 in the morning, and made out with her for half an hour. Interestingly, the babe giggled a lot. Boy slept peacefully for one hour till the train reached the station.
Babe didn’t give her number, babe didn’t tell her name. Neither did the boy.. 4.30 am. Boy wakes up to get out at the last station. The babe’s compartment was empty.

Now..Dont judge the boy or the babe..

Note:-

Loch is coming back to bangalore. Met with Jin last week and had a pretty interesting evening with a very very dear friend. We walked around Koramangala and had food at Ponnuswamy’s were me and Ray of light had gone once before.. Accidentally met one of my seniors from IIT, adn also from college. He was in NID and now working with ISKCON.. all in all okay week though the project work seems to be going down the drain.

Ha!

This Thursday is a year since dad passed away, and I think I am pretty zen about it. Or I am still numb? I don’t know. It has been a year since I threw God out into the shit pot; still it is so tough to scrub the concept off your brain. It gets stuck in the crevices like moss growing on weathered rock. Especially on holy weeks! But I keep scrubbing and I think my brain has started to shine. Still there are remains of my agnostic self sticking to the walls of my cranium like some sort of cancer. It will take a lot more of cleaning to scrub that dirt off. Cleaning lotions like the news of religious violence, and how ‘nothing’ is destroying the world by pulling it apart into ‘nothing’ induced communalism.

But more than that, it still is pretty tough to get over the fact that there was a great man who saw me through everything and I was unworthy of the love he gave me. I am not getting over anything anymore… I accept myself as the rotten piece of life that I am and get on with it. Somebody said “Some people hate their life so much that they work to get away from it” now people, that is where the source of my ambitious nature is. I hate myself so much, that I want to take over the world to please myself. Sounds like fun…  

And yes, this long absence from my little nice home called blogspot is annoying. But this is what my work demands me to do. Screw myself. It is pretty funny how the things you believed you want for sure, are not what they seem to be from a distance when you experience them from within. Stuff you work hard to achieve, are far from the expectations that you had about them. People who you thought meant something, stood for something, are fake and colourless… anyhow, this is what the real world always was right? But like I always says about troubling times, to hell with troubling times…there is no such thing.

But probably, if the statistics that I have been following for sometime, of one disaster every holiday ( it is a six month cycle ) the next is just around the corner. I have a doubt it is going to be ‘on me’ this time instead of ‘around me’

Cheers, to my great future.

Cut off.. by 27%

I had a dream about this nation. A dream of being a somebody, in a nation that had started to value merit. A dream, of starting up on my own, taking India to the world. I was wrong… I, like a million others were blinded by the soaring sensex and media driven sense of achievement. I am back from dreamland now, back to my middle class mentality of believing that nothing is right with this country and getting out of it, equals a great future. A few years of positivism about this nation had changed a lot of “exit from India” types to think twice. This was suddenly the land of opportunities. But alas! It gives an opportunity only if you belong to a socially backward community. Your brains don’t matter to this nation, only your caste does.

The government services sector makes you want to puke. Why? why is it that you cant get your ration card issued in time? Why do you fear going to the doctor in your Government hospital? Those jobs have long been stolen from men and women of merit, and given to backward classes for their up-liftment. Do they uplift anything? I don’t think so. This is about the reservation that this nation wants to slap on its education system. To destroy it at the premier level, like they did for states. I come from a state where there is 50% reservation in all educational institutions already, and the stuff we produce… is no great guns anyway.

Let us examine what happens when there is 50% reservation in an institute like the IIT.

1. Merit of course takes a backseat. As 27% more meritorious students are given up to include students using non-merit considerations. The reputation that institutions like this enjoy now will go down the drain.
2. Do they cope at all? A report by ex-IITM director P V Indiresan and ex-ITD Director N C Nigam says “Nearly 50% of the reserved seats remain vacant as SC/St students are not able to secure the minimum marks required for admission, and 25% of those who join, do not complete the course” does anyone look at these statistics before playing votebank politics?
3. The student culture suffers. As there will now be a remarkably large number of “category” students the campus culture will become one that is based on category Vs general.
4. The hard working ones in the reserved category will for sure find it hard to get accepted into the mainstream as their achievements will be looked down upon by fellow students.
5. The general category students find it hard to cope with the extreme pressures of academic life in institutions like this. When faced with the added pressure of underperforming, language issues and financial crunches (which reserved castes generally don’t suffer because the state takes care of their education, hostel life etc) this can lead to severe mental trauma to reserved category students. A few more suicides perhaps?

But most of all what I fear, is a sense is alienation that will come over every single person who believes in hard work and merit. We pay the taxes that you impose on us for our hard work- don’t we? We work in places that drive the stock market don’t we? We are the ones who fuel this country right? The least you, as a country, can do is giving some credit for not depending on you for our achievements. The least you could do is not make us look like fools who worked hard instead of being born in some caste whose name is on divine list.

But you know what? I don’t care. I don’t belong here and you are out to prove it. You will drive me out of this nation along with every single person who contributes to your growth. They will choose to suffer alienation in a foreign nation rather than in their own. Because you – India, doesn’t value your true sons.

I feel like an unwanted bastard now. Though my education is coming to an end and the sectors where I expect to be employed value merit (which the congress wants to introduce reservation in too) I feel disgusted. Trust me, other than a sensex that is rising like a rocket, the soul of this nation is as rotten as it used to be. The sense of being forsaken, adds to my feelings for this nation. I don’t have a country. But my kids will… on some other part of this globe, where they will at least know why they are being treated as foreigners…

Thank you India, for making me feel homeless.

I wonder how Mr Manmohan sleeps at night after robbing a generation off its real dreams… for a few votes from people who possibly don’t even know what they are doing when they press that button on the ballot machine. Probably, like his boss the lady, he has become a complete politician too.

And here is a solution which I feel is fair.

1. Monitor the existing reservation system to see if it works.. The day 27% seats become insufficient due to excess number of qualified candidates.. Increase the reservation. And till then, re-allot seats on pure merit.
2. un-OBC the student if he passes out of IIT successfully. He doesn’t need the tag anymore.

YIPIIEEE DELHI

I am off to apni dilli on the 28th, thats like this Tuesday.. and if I am lucky I might just get an Innova, Not joking here.. well the truth is, I am flying Kingfisher and they have this offer for any one travelling between March and April some dates.. If I happen to be their millionth passenger. I get the damn car..;)

 

If not, who cares.. I am flying with the ultimate babe-rich carrier  in the country right?.. I hope I mak it alive without a testosterone induced heart attack.. I have seen what KF has to offer at the Delhi airport. Need I say I am bowled over? More about that would come after the flight. For now I have been toiling away working on stuff I have to present at D-school next week. Work here is fun and going well. Met JK, Activity, KRJ and Fake last night at Magnolia in Koramangala. Nice food.. will go back agin. One thing is sure.. I cant wait to get to delhi.. heard it is starting to get bloody hot there now.

 

On a more serious note: Congrats to Sonia gandhi.. though I am bored of her sacrificial politics. She has once again managed to blow the wind out of her opponents sail. And it sure is fun to watch the lady grow into a shrewd manager from a forced politician. I cant think of any other name in history who has converted sacrifice so fashionable. And also to the Ulemas for launching an attack on Islamic terrorism..but someho it feels like they did it because they felt threatened to do it. As the Muslim community of the whole world as we all know is going through a self and media induced phase of negative associations, high time their leaders took to face saving tactics..? or honest reactions.. whichever is applicable..I seriously hope they really meant it when they said "terrorists should stop using the prophets name". These statements alone wont make life easier for the millions of muslims who are now ‘branded’ in the minds of the rest of the world as shady… but this is sure a good beginning. And unil the world becomes a perfect place..I hope we continue to trust each other the way most of this nation’s has been doing for so long.

 

This country has a skin more tolerent than it seems to be. Varanasi could have marked the beginning and the end of a lot of ugly things.. but I guess we are better than that.