Thursday, October 30, 2008

It's all about life

Fashion is not only a movie. It's also not only a movie on the world of fashion. It's a representation of life.

Life runs in circles. And it's never perfect. You also forget to take lessons from others and hit the dead end where others have already told you to avoid that turn.

It's a good movie, good to look at, and not only for the well dressed girls!

I personally found a lot of influences from Paulo Coelho. And the scene where Priyanka Chopra is trying to remove the dark circles, it reminded me of Dorian Gray's picture, the mirror being the canvas.

But, these are not mere influences, they are lessons of life. So, purposefully or not, the movie brings forward life, its falacies, difficulties, small joys and bigger losses.
A must watch movie.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Sunset, Sunrise

“Isn’t it B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L?”

He looked at her, and chose not to reply. She didn’t wait for him either. Just a glance while asking the question, and then back went her face towards the evening setting sun.

As always, she looked beautiful. The aura of the setting sun on her face, with the cloudy sky in at the east end making up a beautiful light, with cars, buses and bikes making up the busy road in the backdrop, the only thing he was noticing was her.

It wasn’t a question actually. It was a musing, as if only to herself. It didn’t need an answer.

Still, he chose to reply, maybe the reply was coming long after the question, maybe it wasn’t the answer to her question, maybe it was a musing too, this time the guys.

“Yes, it is.”

The voice was soft, gentle.

Something in the tone of the voice made her look away from the sunset.

“I’m taking about the sunset buddhu! You’re not even looking at it!”

He smiled and shook his head.

“Be right back.”

“You’re not going to get another cigarette are you? NO! I’m warning you, DON’T!”

He just smiled and shook his head again. Turned and started walking towards the paanwala.

Something in the innocent smile and the shaking of the head made her kept looking at him. The dim light, with the streetlights not on fully, the low natural light, and him walking, wearing a faded jeans and a more faded jeans jacket, he somehow just fit into the whole picture like a jigsaw piece. And she, for the first time in the evening, looked at him, something closer to her, than some phenomena that had actually taken place eight minutes earlier.

Reaching the paanwala he looked back. She was still staring, very evidently.

“What?!” his shrug seemed to convey.

And this time it was her part to smile, shake her head and toss her hair back, shift her gaze back to the sunset.

“I got you an ├ęclairs.”

His voice made her jump. She hadn’t even noticed when he had come up to her.

“And see, I’m not smoking! At your command your highness!”

She smiled.

“Good. You do listen to me then! But just one ├ęclairs?”

“Just one, just one for you, at 6.47 pm, IST. But, five more for you at 6.50 pm IST!”

“You’re crazy! C-R-A-Z-Y!”

He held out her hand and he placed the little golden wrapped Cadbury toffees in her hand. The two hands touched for a fraction of a second, and they looked at each other. And instinctively they looked away, at the sunset.

The sun had already set.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Down... Down... Down...

I know you wont
But still I expect


My downfalls.

and also, dreams

"Dreams mean work"


"Are you sure you want to
Do this, and only this?"


"Are you completely sure?
I know you don't want to."

Yes. I am sure.

"Are you? Or do you
flinch when you reply?"

Stop bugging me.

I know what I am doing.

"Or do you?"

Tuesday, August 19, 2008


She's there
A half smile on her face
Enticing, inviting me

I take a step towards her
And she's not there

She has

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

A photo show reel comprising photos I have clicked here and there, in the recent past.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Undergrowth

One of the many coming up from Pune.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Fluttering of possible pasts

Thursday, June 26, 2008

A short story: A walk by the Lake

"Oh god, no! This can't be happening," he moaned. Another phone call. Another argument. Probably the inevitable, a break-up. He had been trying, trying for months, to keep everything going, make things alright again between him and her. But, it wasn't working out. His fault, her fault, he did not know. His friends told him it was not worth it, not worth putting in so much effort. If it wasn't meant to last, then leave it, that's what they all said. Yet he had been so happy with her, he couldn't let it go.

It was almost evening. The sleepy roads were waking up again, his home, just off the Lake Gardens-Lake flyover was again starting to fill up with noise. Small cars, big cars, bikes, scooters, all with the same intensity of noise were boring into his brain. He wanted to scream out for peace, for silence, but he knew it would go unheeded.

The memories came crashing in. Always. Even when he wanted them to leave, they would occupy his thoughts. All the happy memories, yet, they made him cry. Together with her, hands entwined, smiling faces, tender kisses, passionate kisses, happiness... Why did everything amount to so much pain now? He had no idea. He wanted to run away from them, forget them, yet he couldn't do that. That's all he had left, the memories. With them gone, too, he would be left with nothing, nothing at all. What a scary proposition, but still a tempting one. A fresh burst of tears. He had been crying almost everyday, almost every time.

"What's wrong with me? I wasn't like this!" He asked himself, wistfully.

He reached out for a cigarette. They helped him in times like this, by keeping the mind numb. Some induced peace, but still, some peace. But his pack was empty, he had finished the whole lot in the afternoon. He swore under his breath. Now he would have to go out to buy some. It was such a pain even to go out these days. All the street corners, the dirty ali-golis, even the phuchka-walas, everything brought back some tiny little detail of his past, of his past which he shared with her.

He dressed, it was cold outside, and so a jacket was a necessity. He went out, bought the pack from the local paanwala and decided to take a walk. It was too long that he had been cooped up in his home.

And his legs carried him across the bridge to the lake. There were scores of cars on the bridge, there was a stationary train under the bridge, and amidst the noise and the chaos, he crossed the bridge and stood beside the dark water of the place called the lake.

A cold wind was blowing, yet the trees were not moving. There was a certain spooky aura around them. It was almost unnerving. He lit a cigarette. And as the smoke seemed to engulf him, so did the ghostly silence of the lake. The lake was dark, ripples created on it by the wind. And as the beauty surrounded him, so did a sense of silence. The cars seemed to lose their sound. The whistle of the train fading into a quiet oblivion. The rustle of the leaves could be felt now, among the high skeletal trees. They seemed to whisper something, but he could not quite catch what. And as the cigarette ended, and began his walk back to the place called home, he was already home, in the silence of the cold night. The blazing lights of the cars passed him, dazzled him, and he was in another world, in a place of tranquility, in the peace of his mind. A hum came to his voice, a Pink Floyd number, but he forgot the lyrics, only the first line came and went, "A silence surrounds me..."

The walk had changed something. The trees had whispered and passed on their age-old wisdom to him. What it was, or how it had been passed, he did not quite know, but he could feel his fears, his pain, ebb away.

He was so sure he would die if he had to let go of his girl. He had lost her, but he had not died. In a way though, he had, but he had again been reborn.

Not from the womb of his mother, but from the souls of understanding and wisdom. He had years to live, a lot of things to do, make a thousand faces smile, did it matter really someone he had lost? It wasn't always about being happy or sad. It was about living fully. He would have to die someday, and it was a waste of his life if he ended it soon - a thought that had passed his mind - and it was also a waste if he was always sad.

He smiled. It was his first smile in weeks. He had a lot of things to do, a lot of adventures to take part in.

And he knew where to start.

Monday, May 5, 2008

A love letter

I’ll miss you. Though it’s been just a few months, I’ll still miss you. I’ve grown accustomed to you, very accustomed to you. You’re presence in my room, I’ve gotten so used to it, I don’t know how I will be able to stay without you near my viewing range.

It’s so hard to leave you, but I have no choice. I can’t take you. It will be very difficult. Very very difficult to take you where I’ll be going. And you are so dependant on me, I have to carry you all the way. It cannot be done. Just cannot be done. I’m so sorry.

Will you miss me? Of course you will. How will you pass the endless nights without me by your side? You stay alone in the afternoons, but I’m always there at night. Beside you. With you.

Remember our meeting? It was love at first sight, wasn’t it? Oh… You don’t know how I will pass my days there with no you with me.

Making love to you, running my hands down you neck, down you back, some gentle strokes, some wilder… I’ll miss these daily occurrences. We make love everyday, yet we never get bored of each other, do we? Each day we create a new melody, or perfect the melody of the previous night… Some times we even try to replicate the melody of others.

How, tell me how I will spend my days with you? How will you spend your days without me? No one to take care of you, no one to give you tender touch which you terribly need… Don’t get too lonely, please don’t.

And always remember, wherever I am, I will be missing you. Missing you lots.

I love you.

Yours always,


(a letter for my guitar if I have to leave without her if I leave this city)

Thursday, April 24, 2008

I see them

I see them
Hand in hand they walk
Smiling, talking,
Glancing at each other.

I too held their ranks
I too had a girl.

Friday, April 18, 2008


This city of blinding lights
Billboards glaring down
Making us dream

And we are caught
Dreaming big

Till the dreams crash
The lights seem to fade
Just distant blurs

The dreams have crashed
I'm alone


Sunday, March 30, 2008

Some thoughts on the rise of the rape/molestation cases in India.

Disclaimer: This is a very sensitive topic I am writing about, this is my own views on this subject and is not meant to offend anyone, or weigh opinions on anyone. Healthy criticism will be welcome, and so will be the flaws of my theory.

Everyday you open a newspaper and reports of rapes and molestations jump out at you. What is the reason behind all this, I have often asked myself, and concluded a very disturbing theory which I will share here.

All the men involved in this heinous act must have some reason behind it. Apart from intoxication, the only thing I could come up with was sex-starvation. And I was looking for a cure of this social disease.

First of all, there is the problem with the Indian community. Acts of affection are totally disliked, and even more if they are public. Look how an issue like a kiss between Shilpa Shetty and Richard Gere got totally blown out of proportion. Or how Sania Mirza was rebuked when she spoke about pre marital sex. I won't comment on these issues, but the entire community needs to grow up. When a normal teenager, or even someone younger, switches on the television and channel surfs, visuals of affection are readily available to his eyes. And instead of proper sex education, parents forbid their children to ask questions about this subject. They just freak out at the thought of discussing matters like this with their children. What does this do? This leads the child, or teenager, seek information from other sources, and not always proper sources. They get a garbled and mangled idea rather than the proper education that is required, and also, they get more curious. They want to try things on their own. I think this is why cases of juvenile rapes are increasing. (I remember reading more than one newspaper report about how a teenager tried to/actually managed to rape a very young girl.)

So, proper education at this level is required. Everyone knows this, and implementing sex education in schools is being thought of... and sadly, being thought of for a long time now. Objections are always getting raised, and the education still hasn't been implemented in most places.

So that goes for young adults who have a curious mind which often lead to monstrous acts. They need to be taught the laws, the precautions, the side effects, the protections needed.

I even understand all the flak many had to go through for their open minded thoughts on premarital sex. Parents are afraid that their son or daughter would do something before she even matures and appreciated the gravity of the situation of what she has done. But even here, hiding things from their children is no proper option. They need to know, tell them, protect them till they are mature, but after that, understand that it is their life. They may be you're son's and daughter's, but they are not you, they have a life of their own. Your duty is to guide them so that they become proper citizens. One can only be protected for some time. Then they would despise you, lie to you, do things without telling you, and commit the mistakes which could have been prevented if only you wee more frank with them. Become their friends, not their dictators.

But what about totally grown men who commit these crimes? Why do they do it? Yes, they are sex starved, but when there can be even capital punishment against this act, why do it? What is the solution to this desperation?

A very strange idea occurred to me. Very very strange idea. You might think I'm a pervert when I reveal this, but do hear me out, and then say whatever you got to.

I believe the only way to solve this issue is to make pornography and prostitution legal. Why so? I have certain arguments for this.

If people are so sex starved and desperate that they are willing to rape and molest people, they could easily visit a prostitute and get his starvation and desperation out.

Why pornography? Well, maybe not hardcore pornography. People at a certain age group grow a curiosity towards the body of the other sex. And when available, many use the internet to douse their curiosity, others, molest known people of the opposite sex. While the internet can be a good thing, getting hooked onto pornographic sites can never be a good thing. You wreck your computer with viruses and Trojan horses (these sites contain hundreds of them), and you have to have a certain amount of secrecy to visit these sites. You hide, surf these sites, and they are illegal. Even if pornography is kept illegal, certain things have to be made readily available, and not only a textual and formal education, but one with graphics.

About the prostitution issue, prostitution is illegal, yes. But there are hundreds, if not thousands of sex workers who live a miserable life. Most, if not all, have been dragged into this trade by compulsion, and, if it were legal, they would have a better life. Legal prostitution would also mean proper protection among these sex workers, and cases of HIV/AIDS should also decline.

Many would argue that prostitution by no means can be an occupation. But if it's legal, people would have an option of coming out of it, even if compulsion forces them into it. Prostitution is legal in many countries across the world. If you think its a demeaning occupation, tell me then, why don't they? And I'm talking about countries like Canada, Germany, The Netherlands, Peru, Turkey, etc. Countries like UK have certain laws where prostitution is legal, but brothels and all are not. If they can be as liberal minded to think like this, why can't we? And they have a lot less rape molestation cases.

However, these aren't no solutions actually. The actual solution is proper education, and whatever I might have said in this article, I stress most on this. An open mind, proper communication and education might make our country just a little better. Why hang onto age old traditions? Hold onto morals which have lost their meanings long ago? Evolve. Think. Solve.

Friday, March 28, 2008

I dream

We think, sometimes, there’s not a dragon left. Not one brave knight, not a single princess gliding through secret forests, enchanting deer and butterflies with her smile. We think sometimes, that ours is an age past frontiers, past adventures. Destiny, it’s way over the horizon, glowing shadows galloped past long ago, and gone!” (Richard Bach, The Bridge Across Forever)

Life is about magic, mystery, mysticism, adventures, and a lot about love, they tell me. But magic, mystery, mysticism, adventures, love are all buried under the ‘tower of obligations standing tall’ (Insomnia, State of Disturbance), and these obligations are not even self brought in.

“Adventure?” the bewildered boy shook his head. “I don’t recall reading anything about it in my notes copy, nor did the professor say anything about it. You sure you heard the term right?”

“Magic?” another boy this time, looked confused. “Yes, I know bits about it, I had to prepare an essay on it, but no, I don’t believe in it.”

“Love?!” this boy laughed. “Look man, I’m too busy with my exam marks to worry about something as futile as love. You’re crazy dude!”

What’s this all about? Buried under piles of notes, under hours of memorizing them, are we losing yourselves somewhere in there? The ‘Us’, the ‘Me’, are they getting lost? Are we becoming robots?

I would still say no. I would still dream.

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one”
(John Lennon, Imagine)

(Originally published in Dewal Likhon, the school wall magazine.)

Monday, March 24, 2008

A promise.

Promise: an assurance that one will do something or that something will happen. (Oxford dictionary)

What a strange word this, promise. We make promises all the time. Assure oneself, others that something will happen, or something will be done. "I promise you". How easy to say. Yet how easy to forget.

We made a promise. That whatever comes, we won't sacrifice our friendship. Yet, I'm no longer a friend of her. And it's my fault that I'm not.

A list of words/sentences/phrases that should be banned: (no one knows how to use them, that's why... Or maybe they don't mean anything.)

1. God

2. Love

"Next to 'god', 'love' is the word most mangled in every language" - Richard Bach, The Bridge Across Forever

3. I love you. (It never lasts. Never. Rather it would be better to rephrase the sentence as, "At this moment, I love you, the next moment what will happen, I don't know." Will make things a lot easier. edit - one can also rephrase it as "I still love you! Isn't that strange?!")

4. I promise. (Reasons explained above.)

5. I will always love you. (Everyday a new definition of 'always' is made, from 1 second to infinity, it can mean anything. That word has no meaning these days, making this sentence impossible to hold any meaning.)

6. Things will be alright. (What the fuck. What does this mean anyway? What does being alright mean?)

7. Give it time. (Yeah, right. I buy some time from the departmental shop and then give it. Do you want it gift wrapped?)

(More will be added to this list, "I promise"!)

Saturday, March 15, 2008

And then...

And then when you are alone
Shall you find them
They have stayed

And will do.
Nice to meet, again

Told you we would meet, again
But you didn't believe me, again
Just like the last time...

Back again, eh?
Hope you'll be staying this time.

"Yes, I will be."

Friday, March 14, 2008

My new friend

Anger, bitterness and sorrow
Are these my only friends now?
The only thing I feel now-a-days
Is pain, nothing else

Happiness has evaded me
But I don't give a damn
I still have someone with me
Does it matter if its only pain?

No one understands me
or the other way round
Whatever is it though
I have my friend pain with me now

It hurts, yes it does
But atleast this feeling is here to stay
Unlike the glimpses of a happy life
Which I know I'll never posses.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Done. And over with.

It's been done
And over with
Either you're dead
Or me

But someone is,

And he is lonely.

A whisper:
"Close your eyes
Look around

With your eyes covered

A flurry of movements.

You're not alone."

But then.
What am I?
Or you?

(Dedicated to someone. She knows.)

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Inside and Outside

(South City, Anwarshah Road.)

On the street, the leaves, the buses.

Not a speck to be found.

Horns, shouts and screams.

Orderly confusion with a smile.

Glares at you, naked.

People in Nike sneakers,
Levi’s jeans,
And Armani shirts
Smelling of costly fragrance.

Garbage stinks.

(inspired by a writing, and only the author of that shall know which I mean.)

Sunday, February 10, 2008

I'm happy, as long as you are.

You spoke to me, of things
I didn't quite like.
But kept silent.

Hurt I looked away.
But I couldn't keep
From glancing back.

And as I saw,
Your smiling face
Your happy eyes.

I couldn't help.
I smiled back.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Conversations on a deathbed

The sharp edge scratches the lifeline
Something dark red oozes out
It's blood Sourya,
You're going to die Sourya.
"I welcome death."

It's bleeding Sourya.
You've got a minute to live.

"Which lasts a lifetime
A minute is forever
A minute is life
Life is but a minute."

You're not making sense Sourya
You're DYING!

"I, welcome..."

~Breathes his last.~

Friday, January 4, 2008


Never question me

For I know it all

But answer none.