Devil's Advocate

Here I am, completing an incredibly stupid tag from an incredibly stupid person (who never got around to completing mine). And that too when I have exams. Now do you realize my magnanimity? Loser. It's another matter altogether we always wind up having free time.

Last Movie Seen in Theatre “Taare Zameen Par”. I had the good fortune of watching it with Mom and Dad. Both of them shed tears in copious quantities. I was a bit busy observing the reactions of the aunty sitting to my right. But definitely one of the better movies Bollywood has churned out. And it shall remain so for a long time to come. Oh did I forget to mention something? Amir Khan rocked, as always. If you don’t believe me, watch him in action in “Sarfarosh”.

Book Being Read Security Protocols. It’s not a book actually. Just a 50-something-page notebook filled with my handsome scrawl.

Favorite Board Game Err. Does Ludo count? Playing “these” games is definitely one of the childhood things I kind of missed out on. Though I do remember Dad teaching me how to play chess (when we were in Bhutan). But a budding talent was nipped in the bud when Didi decided to upturn the board every time she lost to me. Damn. Also, I remember buying a very expensive and overtly intellectual board game called Scotland Yard on one of my birthdays. Pity it turned out to be a little too abstract for me too. It now rusts atop one of the cupboards at home.

Favorite Magazine I used to pine for Playboy in my adolescent years (have they passed already?). Used to go to the magazine stand almost every week, wondering whether the vendor had been able to get a copy of the coveted journal. Only to be disappointed of course. When the realization dawned, I began to make do with the magazine’s less illustrious contemporaries.

Crap apart, favorite regular reads have to be National Geographic and Wisdom . Interest in both grew because Dad used to get them especially for me from his office (other members in the family were just too disinterested in intellectual preoccupations or environmental concerns of the world). Nat Geo was perused only because of the wow images their correspondents took. Wisdom was devoured because of my fascination with trivia.

While Nat Geo is still a staple, Wisden has long been lost in oblivion, both by the world (I wonder if it's still published) and by me. As a matter of fact, I thought about it only while completing the tag.

Favorite Smells Saundhi Mitti. Nothing beats it for me. Smell of my Mom in the clothes stored in the cupboard at home (I have never actually confessed this to her).

Favorite Sounds Burning of the guitar. Silence of the afternoons I spent in my terrace room at home. Coldplay. Gulzar. Couples kissing. Ok that was the most longed for sound.

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up? “Fuck. I think I slept too long. Again. Shit.”

Worst feeling in the world Lots actually. And I am not mentioning any of them. Ok. I’ll just write one. Having money when someone is begging for it at the traffic signal. And yet not parting with any of it.

Favorite Fast Food Place It’s been only four years since I had my first McDonald’s burger. What more could you expect? Not a big fan of fast food anyway. Ok. Maybe fast food that you bring home and gorge on while watching the afternoon sleazy movie on HBO.

Future Child’s Name Siddhartha Junior. Can’t help it. I am too much in love with my name. Aren’t you enamoured by it too?

Finish this statement, “If I had a lot of money I’d…” Try to spend it all before the incredulity of it gets to me.

Do you drive fast? Suraksha se der bhali. Have never known myself exceeding 60kmph, even on the loneliest of roads. I think I am a bit scared of speeds. Or maybe the bike shakes a bit too much after those speeds. Either way, I am not a speed demon.

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? I sleep with my velvety blanket, tucked firmly under me (instead of spread over me). I have to make do with it because life sized dolls (you get what I am getting at?) are conspicuous by their absence in INDIA.

Storms - Cool or Scary? Depends. Cool if there is some girl who is scared shitless by the same. Otherwise just okay hi payega na?

Do you eat the stems on broccoli? What the heck is broccoli? Baah. I eat aloo-gobhi. And I love it.

If you could dye your hair any colour, what would be your choice? Blonde. Ha ha. I am not kidding of course. Ass.

All towns/cities you have lived in Let’s start from the beginning. Delhi (Was born there), Dimapur (Nagaland), Jaipur, Samtse (A village on the India-Bhutan border. The best place I have been to. And probably I’ll ever be to), Lucknow, Ghaziabad, Gandhinagar, Mysore, Noida, Gandhinagar, Period.

Favorite sports to watch Beach Volleyball. Of course.

One nice thing about the person who sent this to you Err. I think the hard drive just crashed. Our tech support will get back to you soon.

What’s under your bed? Not much. A strolley with no wheels. On top of that is a suitcase. A pair of shoes I haven’t used in 4 months. Oh, I just looked. Approximately 6 empty (of course) packets of Rasna JuiceUP.

Would you like to be born as yourself again? Yes. Albeit with more brains.

Morning person or night owl? Seriously. I want to know. Are you kidding me?

Over easy or sunny side up? Sorry. ArrayOutOfBoundsException. Total over head transmission.

Favorite Place to Relax Under a mango tree. If you want the exact place, look for the one in the primary school in a village named Kandikhal. Also, Lucknow home’s parent’s bedroom (with mum sleeping beside me so that she can wake me up whenever I ask her to) is a close second.

Favorite Pie What angrezi shit? Hindi mein batao pie ka matlab. Humph.

Favorite Ice Cream Just ice cream has to be orange bar. I once vomited 13 times in a single night because I ate an equal number of cheap orange bars during the day. Favorite flavor has to be butter scotch.

And now comes the best part. In order to continue the vicious circle, I tag Piper, Pinky, and Shaktimaan (if she ever reads this).

On Fiascoes

Yeah, the exams have ended. Not that they ended the way I had thought they would. Screwed up some of them (or was it all of them?). But, you are not here to read about fiascoes, are you? You are here to read about the good things in life and how people manage to triumph over all odds. Right?

Ok. So let me tell you an anecdote. A story about a boy who was definitely not named Siddhartha. Any resemblance is purely and strictly co-incidental. Now back to our story. This boy was filled with brilliant ideas. He was what they call, a "genius". Of course, at that time, he was too humble to believe the same. I think he was very correct in doing so. Best not to put ideas where they seem out of place.

On we go. He kept hitting back at whatever hit him. He had the will and strength to succeed. He had the chutzpah to dream big. But then somewhere down the line, the confidence began to waver. The will began to falter. The iron was hot and the hammer struck at the wrong time. It knocked the wind out of him. The demon of fiasco slithered down his throat and settled at the very bottom of his gut. It became a parasite, feeding on what kept him going.

But it would take more than that to actually defeat him. Or so he thought. Little did he know that the effect had already started to sink in. He could see the results but was too blind to notice the reasons. Ah! This is getting depressing, is it? We must add a hint of spice to our little anecdote. Or else, like all predictable stories, our audience will leave the theater - disappointed and hurling profanities.

But before the spice, comes the anti-climax. The time when everything seemed to be at logger horns with him, our boy. Hours flitted by like nothings. Opportunities passed by like graceful girls giggling on the street. No one seemed to notice the struggle within. Even he pretended to ignore it, thinking that it was all meant to be. Thinking that it was meant to be taken in stride. The very effort of it turned his guts inside out, leaving him as hollow as a, let's say, dementor.

But then, we needed our spice, our sting in the tale. Something stirred up inside our Boy. He realized he was not meant for great things. But he was not meant for mundane things either. He had a talent and letting it go in vain would certainly earn him HIS chide. He gathered his scattered belongings - the friends whom he had turned over to the demon inside of him. He tried cutting at the roots of the poison ivy inside him. The effort left him exhausted. He wondered if the entire rigmarole was worth the effort. He lost sight of his beacon, more often than he kept track of it.

But, I presume he hasn't given up yet. He continues to falter. He's more human than me or you. He continues to try. Often succeeding, more often failing. I hope he never gives up hope. For Hope is the best of things. For Hope is the worst of things.

In the meanwhile, loudspeakers blare in the vicinity at the highest decibel levels. People get their long-needed hair cuts. Men of Wisdom indulge in senseless ramblings they call bakar. Some complain. Some ridicule. Some chuckle. I sit and try to etch it all down. For you, my dear. For Him. For posterity.

On Numb3rs

I am dumb because I don't have the numbers to support a contradicting claim. I don't have any brains because of the very same reason. I have come to believe this fact as a part of my life. There's no escaping it. The past was an illusion, meant to heighten the effect of this expose. It was The Prestige, the final and hardest act in any magical show. The only difference being that over here, the show was staged backwards in time, with the prestige preceding the The Turn and The Pledge.

I continue to live and stumble on. It's not the end of the world. It's the end of just some part of me which believed otherwise.

P.S.: Just before writing this, I saw the lamp on my table going phut. Now there will be no yellow cadence tonight. Perhaps, a sign of things that I was going to write about. HE seems to know it all.

On Lethargy

Some-friggin-body said today I am too lazy to even talk. Another enlightened soul tried to warn me about the repercussions of not seeing too much of the world too often. "Bahar ki duniya bhi dekho kaka. Kamre mein hi rehte ho," the wise Oracle spoke. I find it highly disconcerting. I mean I can't go on blabbing like some people (do you get the hint?). Neither do I find bliss in scoring goals. I find pleasure in doing other things. Be it reading, writing, collecting trivia, or just enjoying some good 'ol music. Is it my problem they don't require neither company nor exertion? That being said, I do indulge in the ancient art of bakar, often with remarkable finesse. I do flay my hands around while supposedly playing badminton. And I do enjoy traveling as much as any other person. It all depends on what catches my fancy. Probabilistic predictions seem to hinge on the former options. I have absolutely no say in those matters.

I need my privacy and I am jealous enough to protect it with nasty glares and even nastier retorts. That somehow gives people the wrong ideas. But I seriously don't care. I have been following a dictum for quite some time now. It goes something like this:"You're with yourself all the time; better enjoy the company Fortunately, it has been serving me well.

Some remarkably gol body said about me, "He's is unsocial, shy and quiet... prefers solitude or at most the company of one person to a crowd. He has aptitude for creative work..." I have come to find a lot of truth in that statement. Maybe I am meant to be that way. *sigh*

So people, please be considerate while reaching conclusions the next time. It's not all about saving energy. It's often about preferences. Let's be a little more - uhmm - lethargic. What say, eh?

On Eluding Phantoms

And I find it kind of funny
Find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I am dying are the best I’ve ever had.
And I find it hard to tell you
Find it hard to tell
When people run in circles it’s a very very Mad World.
- Mad World, Gary Jules

I haven’t been this sappy or philosophical in a long time. And teary eyed moments (am only exaggerating) call for unforeseen measures. They call for yellow light, some mellow music, and lots of midnight musing.

Tonight, I happened to chat with a friend who “seemed” to be unhappy and troubled. That very same observation made me think. Is anyone of us happy? I am not talking about fleeting bits of unadulterated bliss. I am talking about lasting happiness, the eluding phantom. Often, with considerable amounts of guile and tact, we fool ourselves into believing that we are happy. We work hard to keep that visage alive, while reality keeps gnawing at it with remarkable tenacity.

I am sure I don’t have any panacea for this malady. But let us put it under the knife. Almost always, I find myself setting goals for myself. This unending process has its own pros and cons. Achieving these targets makes me “happy”, but only momentarily. Soon, I am too lost in the quest to conquer my next Everest. So much so, I forget to enjoy the stay at the top. I forget to feel the wind brush through my hair. The daily hustle-bustle of life then clouds any surviving remnants of that nascent mirth.

That brings us to the bone of contention. What should we do in order to trap that master escapist? Yet again, I have only my personal experience to share. I believe the best way to be “not unhappy” is to keep yourself busy. One won’t be able to able to appreciate the dark clouds in one’s life if one doesn’t have the time and patience to feel the rain drops falling on our heads. Just go about setting goals for you, one by one, and slogging to achieve them. You’ll get your share of “happyness”.

Then there is the road less traveled. The road I am sometimes pugnacious enough to follow. And that is to accept everything bad in one’s life as a long lost friend, with disarming honesty. To become one with it. And it is then that the boundaries, so well defined by our preconditioning, begin to get blurred. The two mates find solace in each other’s company. All this is not a cake-walk. But it is not herculean either. I have advertised my concoction time and again – the written word, mixed with copious amounts of music, and just a hint of yellow color. This preparation never fails to do the trick for me.

But I can’t live in a parallel universe forever. I HAVE TO be dragged back to reality, often ruthlessly, to revel in the juxtaposition of the two worlds. So choose a path. Or carve your own. Your “happyness” is, after all, your own. You need to be selfish enough to stake claim to it.

Amalgam

For the past few days, I have been the unsuspecting victim of a tumultuous converge of varied thoughts and feelings. I had been searching for a word that aptly described this sangam of sorts. But I had no special longing to look up some abstruse term in Barron’s High Frequency List. So my g33ky sub-conscious came up with this loser title.

Amalgam, as some of you might have read when you guys were chhote-chhote bachhe, is used to refer to any alloy containing mercury. Likewise, I consider myself the mercury which is undergoing metamorphosis due to other elements being mixed with it. Also, amalgam exemplifies the factotum nature of this post. It talks about a lot of things, and at the same time it talks about nothing at all. So read further at your own risk.

I am just back from Mysore, a lovely city. Mysore wowed me with its clean roads, irritating obsession with uncle-type heroes, I-want-to-be-here resorts, biking sprees, and overtly eager buggers (read kids). Make sure to visit it if you get the time. I’ll tag along and serve as your free guide (accommodation and food not included of course).

It was last year, somewhere around this time, that I sensed something different in me. I could not put a finger as to what had changed. But then, just like well-crafted sarcasm, it could be felt. I am sure that sooner or later, all that I have learnt in the past two years will make its presence felt. Maybe it’s evident in the discussions I have with my mom. Or maybe it’s making itself felt in the kind of future that I want to have. Who knows?

We dream big. We dream a lot. We dream to make this world a better place. We dream about eradicating poverty and hunger. But somewhere down the line, all these ideals are lost in the struggle to eke out a living. We go with the flow, like sheep. I am not saying I won’t be one of you, one of the umpteen sheep. But I will probably strive not to. If I succeed you’ll know my story, plausibly sooner than me. Make sure you are not caught napping then. Sometimes, just sometimes, we need to ignore that potent concoction of forty winks.

P.S.: This was written quite some time ago, 22nd July 2007 to be exact.