It's Your Life

On a certain day, a lady went to sleep. In her sleep, she had a dream. In her dream, she saw a hunk of a man standing there, staring at her and he started coming closer, closer, closer. She could even feel his breath. She trembled - not in fear - and asked, "What will you do to me?" The man said, "Well lady, it's your dream."


Whatever you are is created by you.


Current Music: The Cranberries - Dreams

If

Tag from Ria


If I were a month, I'd be March

If I were a day of the week, I'd be Wednesday

If I were a time of day, I'd be 4.30 a.m.

If I were a season, I'd be deep winter.

If I were a planet, I'd be Jupiter

If I were a sea animal, I'd be a whale

If I were a direction, I'd be East (what else)

If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be a swing

If I were a liquid, I'd be mercury

If I were a tree, I'd be a peepal tree

If I were a tool, I'd be a knife

If I were an element, I'd be copper

If I were a gemstone, I'd be diamond

If I were a musical instrument, I'd be a drum

If I were a color, i'd be gold

If I were a emotion, I'd be lust (that longing with no end)

If I were a fruit, I'd be a seedless black grape

If I were a sound, I'd be the strains of sitar

If I were a car, I'd be a Audi

If I were food, I'd be a salad

If I were a taste, I'd be tangy

If I were a scent, I'd be citrus

If I were a pair of shoes, I'd be boots
And if I were a bird, I'd be a white magpie
 
I tag Lalitha and Chimera
 
Current Music: Janet Jackson - If

The Taj and Kasab

Sometimes justice is strange. I correct myself. Justice IS strange. Finally after spending millions of rupees on Kasab, they pronounce him guilty. Why does it take so long to send someone to the chair or the noose? Especially in such an open situation. I was reading the book on the Taj shooting incident. So many details will never see the light of the day to maintain the victims privacy. A lot of women were raped by the terrorists right in front of their husbands and other hostages. Apart from the trauma of being raped, this must have affected the mental balance of a lot of people - the women, the husbands and the helpless spectators. The women for obvious reasons. The husbands for being mute spectators. And the other men for being men in the figurative sense. Not to mention the children. Ultimately, no one can be sure of his courage till the day of their death. I have no idea of what I would do in such a situation as its easy to opine once the moment has passed but it would be very difficult to live afterwards if I were a mere spectator. It isn't easy making that kind of choice in that high voltage situation with your kids being present perhaps. I am just thinking out loud here.

We need special courts to mete justice at super speed so the victims don't have have to prolong their ordeal. Or a repeat of the nineties where the cops were given a free hand to clean up the streets completely.

 

Current Music: Deicide - Once Upon The Cross

Just an update

It's quite irritating that the company has blocked access to blogger. I can access my dashboard and post a post but cannot view it. How weird can you get? Any jugad, folks?

Last night was a miracle. The temperature dipped so much that I actually got up a couple of times to check if the aircon was not on by mistake. And now the mercury is back to it's naughty self. I've been swimming regularly for the last two weeks. I can mercifully swim 'over' water now. Over the last few years I was able to swim under water only. And guess what was the problem with my not being able to swim normally like other mortals? I didn't know the breathing technique - breathe in through your mouth and out through the nose. Wullah - and to think I wasted so much time. But it's quite embarrassing and motivating at the same time to see tiny tots swimming like fishes. Such ease. Er..and the mermaids too. That reminds me of this 4-5 year young chipmunk who comes to swim everyday with his mum and/or Dad. Well, we got to know each other in the pool - IPL right? The other day I was chatting with this little fella on the parapet of the pool about something and his ma rushed in at the same time. Traditional Telugu that she is though she dresses quite modern - but traditional all the same. So traditional that she is, she averted her eyes at the sight of mee in my wee trunks and spoke to me haltingly with the eyes roaming everywhere but my bod. We had just dispensed the hi, hello, where's Mohan (her hub) et al and she was getting used to the idea of talking to a man in trunks when her monkey sneaked from behind and pulled my trunks down. Hello - I was zapped but I pulled my trunks up and collapsed in mirth. It was so funny that I had to actually dive deep inside to stop the laughter. I swear this dusky lady went pink to her ears if that was possible. I took a swipe at the kid before jumping in the pool while she started shouting at him in Telugu. All this happened quickly in a few seconds but that broke the ice. LoL..I don't know if she told her hubby about this but we were pretty cool the next time. Damn - these kids are too naughty. And full of life. I can't imagine me doing something like this when I was 4.

BTW, I was checking ebay.in to get an idea about Indrajal comics. They are being auctioned at 400 rupees each and more :o I have around 200-250 at home. Didn't realise I had so much money ;) lying in the carton. And I know where to get more at a handsome price too. Not that I am planning to sell any. Nevah.

I might go on a trip to North sometime next month. I wanted to see Delhi, Agra and Jaipur since a long time. The Himalayas will have to wait I guess for sometime. There is something else cooking bigtime on the fire but I will tell ya once it's cooked fully.

 

Current Music: Jordy - Dur Dur D'etre Bebe

Helping Hands Are Better Than Praying Lips

Just returned with a terrible mindfuck from the canteen. I saw a guy return his lunch plate to the dishwasher with the entire cucumber as leftover. Another didn't think before wasting half of his rice. Bastards!! I had half a mind to sock the ignorant turds. Cucumbers form an integral part of my 3 meals. In fact, cucumbers and tomatoes form THE meal for me at times. This is not about cucumbers. This is about FOOD. It doesn't matter whether you are a vegan or a non vegan. Something DIED so you could fill your stomach and satiate your hunger. A little bit of awareness could help us walk a lot more softly on this planet. Eat with a little love and gratitude.

Please DO NOT WASTE food - If you have a function/party at your home in India and food gets wasted, don't hesitate to call 1098 (only in India). It's not a Joke. It's a child helpline. They will come and collect the food. Please circulate this message which can help feed many children.

Current Music: Deep Forest - Marta's Song

Munich

BTW, I recently saw "Munich" and I was stunned by the Israeli spirit. Golda Meir was one hardcore lady. No taking sides but you have to appreciate what you are lucky to see. I especially liked how they left it halfway in the end.

Current music: Joe Cocker - Different Roads

Hey dude

The frivolity is starting to get to me. Bigtime. No point in keeping the monster in the closet and pretend all is gay. Too much of the energy is going in schizophrenia. I can't kid myself anymore that it doesn't matter and all will be well. Like my ex-boss told me the last time I met him - Comes a moment when all you have left is sap for one good loving and courage for one good fight. Don't waste the loving on a whore or the fight on a paper tiger. I'm going to give it one last mighty shot. I have no choice but to go within and find the discipline to make all that matters better. This is my prime time and its now or never. It can't get later than this.

Well even the longest night won't last forever
But too many hopes and dreams won't see the light
And all of the plans I make won't come together
Something in the air
Maybe for the only time in my life
Something in the air

Turning me around and guiding me right
And it's a prime time, maybe the stars were right
I had a premonition, it's gonna be my turn tonight
Gonna be my turn tonight

This is for a new dawn: Paul McCartney - Little Willow

Its a Clockwork Orange

What's left of love if she no longer makes you feel like a man? If she no longer feels like a woman with you? That familiarity has bred a partnership instead of a union. A friendship instead of fusion. The lust has disappeared to be replaced with duty. The relationship is queer as a clockwork orange. Nothing left to chase and nothing left to choose. The search for something new or exciting commences. Something that will make you come out of your skin. Like drinking gourd juice first thing in the morning. And the abyss gets deeper. You dream more than you live. Smile more instead of hate. Wish more than you give. And the wishing with no direction gets fizzled in the air like soda.

Current music: Alan Parsons Project - A Dream Within A Dream

Bangalore Travels

I winded up the interview in 45 minutes and had the entire day to myself. Senior management interviews winding up in 45 minutes worried me a little but the company is a solid one. Besides they gave me a Innova for the entire day to get a feel of Bangalore. Sort of pushy but I wasn't complaining about anything. I tried calling someone I wanted to meet but the phone went unanswered twice. So I called up someone whom I hadn't met for two years and met only once in my life in Mumbai. Ha ha. Of all the people I know in Bangalore and have known for years in my life, I don't know why I chose that one. And wonders of wonders. My friend had recently changed jobs and was in the same building. This has got to be synchronicity. There is no other word for this. We met and chatted for close to an hour. Exchanged its, bits and puffs :( And I went on to Commercial District recommended to be a nice place for idling moi engine. I could immediately see that this was not a place you ever went with girls. Even though you may not buy anything but I could probably guarantee that the girls will easily spend hours just rummaging through the stuff. Sort of like Fashion Street in the glory days.

Gobbled some juicy guavas after ages. Road side food to fill the tummy. Bought a few books too (guiltily). The job is in the bag actually. The HR person called me today regarding the offer. I am still in contemplation mode. Hyderabad has grown on me. I love the wide infrastructure, lack of pollution, value for money and the cuisine even though the social scene at times stifles moi spirit. Even the people are growing on me a little. The simplicity. Perhaps I am a wall on which anything can grow but that's how it is. I have another week to ponder about this. The company is really after moi butt to take this up and I haven't even started the negotiation process yet. Perhaps they can sense me waver.

I'm just writing for the sake of it right now.

Current music: Aakhri Alvida

"What was left of soul, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?..."

Insomnia lead

I saw "Insomnia" over the weekend. Nothing spectacular about the movie. Al Pacino and Robin Williams doing their usual thing and Hillary Swank looking feminine for a change. What was spectacular was that it was shot in Alaska. Anchorage and nearby locations. I think any damn thing in this world can trigger memories. Looking at the sheer, mind numbing depth of Alaska's beauty brought me memories of a dear dear friend from Anchorage. A magnificient lady living with her husband in a nice cottage, shooting moose for food :) and enjoying life. I connected to her in the early years of my internet chatting life. I no longer chat like earlier but a few friends I made in that March of 2000 are still in close touch though communication has been on and off. Unfortunately, not this one. I lost touch with her in 2007. Realised it in 2008 when I was cleaning my inbox and read one of her 2002 emails. I am a sucker for old stuff and deleting emails from people I cherish is a big no-no. I shot an email to her address and got a bounce. Numerous bounces to her different email addresses. That got me worried. This was a lady who used to paint and write on me (nuts methinx) and me just losing touch in the black vaccuum was unforgiveable. So I delved a little deeper into the internet (thank god for internet). A reverse search, a secret directory search, alaska news search, vehicles database etc. and voila. I found her home number listed in her husband's name. The point is I read in one of the news posts that a person with her husband's name died in a freak accident last year. Not sure if he is the same person but there's a possibility. The dilemma is 'Should I make that call?' and 'What do I say after all these years?' (ashamed). And moreso 'How the fuck did I get the number?' Okay, the third part might be forgiveable since she knows my twisted mind well.

I think I will make that call. At least I won't wonder through my life of what could have happened and regret not making that call. And I plan to visit Alaska in my next trip to US. Awesome is not the word to describe it. Look at her house pic amidst the density.

And then during the peak snow.

Alaska is definitely next. It would be a sacrilege to miss it just like not visiting the Himalayas inspite of being born in India.

Current music: Bette Midler - Wind Beneath My Wings

The Tiger's Tail

You remember that Kylie Minogue song, "Can't get you out of my head"? I hated that song. That tune stuck to my head inspite of me not liking it. And it was played at every damn discotheque in those days. Some people are like that. You would like to forget them but the more you try, the farther you reach from success. Letting go doesn't work either. What's the point of keeping away from them if they are going to be in your head all the while? It's better to stay connected and get mind fucked than stay away with the same result. Riding the tiger by the tail is not good sometimes.

Yes, it's U whom I am talking about here.

Current music - Tony Rich Project - Nobody Knows

Culinary Twists

The New York crepe is yummm..And the Jack Daniels barbeque sauce..sinful...And very addictive..Yummmmmm....

No propoganda on any profession but wtf..

What Teachers Make, or
Objection Overruled, or
If things don't work out, you can always go to law school
By Taylor Mali

He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about
teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.

Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.

"I mean, you¹re a teacher, Taylor," he says.
"Be honest. What do you make?"

And I wish he hadn't done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?
Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why.

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write, write, write.
And then I make them read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either one of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I make a goddamn difference! What about you?

www.taylormali.com
Video version available http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxsOVK4syxU

The Hurt Locker

Mr. Magpie, if you were asked to describe The Hurt Locker in one word, what would it be?
WHITE Magpie: TAUT

WM: But I'd like to raise one very pertinent question to Mr. Obama or Bush. What the fuck is the US Army doing in Iraq?

About the movie: It gets my grudging full vote for holding the story. For that exquisite bass floating in at times. For reenforcing that man is a savage. Man is a barbarian. Man is a selfish assole.

Should I watch? Oh yeah.

What is the takeaway? Stop getting pissed with your partner, your kid, your boss, your neighbour whoever for all the silly shithole reasons in the world. Grow up. Appreciate your neighbour. Time is the most valuable commodity. Don't waste it. Please. Every moment. Counts.

And God Bless.

I Like This

Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy.
Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with your self.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the 'Funky Chicken' on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Don't leave them in India and go somewhere (just kidding)
Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths. Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 you will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.

Sunta Hai Mera Khuda

Last week, I was doing the "spring cleaning" of my wardrobe and library. As I got up after picking a book, the top of the head hit the point of the open window and I literally had what you call a "free fall". Somehow, it didn't faze me what with all this crap happening this year with me. I came (I was alone in the house that time) to after a while and mopped up the blud. The spic and span feelings were long gone. I had some leftovers from my birthday cake, wiped it with a vanilla shake and went down for a walk. After a few calming moments near KBR park, I felt like going for a drive. Damn!! No car.

Hailed an auto and said, "Chalo". (Let's go)
Auto-guy: "Kidhar?" (Where?)
Me: "Arre tum kidhar bhi chalo, lekin pehle chalo". (Take it anywhere but first let's move from here)Bad Hindi but we from Mumbai are like this only.

So off we went. I directed him to the highway towards Mumbai. After 30 minutes of straight driving and 4-5 Hindi songs:
Rickshaw guy ventured again: "Kidhar ko jaana sahab?" (Sir, where do you want to go?)
Me: "U turn le lo aur vapas chalo". (Take a U-turn)

And the song from Pukaar - Sunta hain mera khuda started playing in the background. Earlier, I'd never paid mucho attention to the lyrics, beat or Rahman's genius. Moi attention used to switch to the gorgeous Namrata Shirodkar and end there. This time was different. I was on my back with the feet hanging out of the rickshaw going deeper into the song. What a song. It ended quicker than I wanted to; just when I couldn't have enough of it.

I thundered: Vapas lagao. (Play it again)
Auto guy stops the rickshaw: Kya? (What?)
Me: Grrr. Wo gaana vapas lagao deck pe. (Play that song on the damn deck again)

Sanity resumed. The song plays again. This could very well be THE WEDDING and HONEYMOON ballad. I imagined making excruciatingly slow love to my beloved listening to the lyric,"Kaho to main tere aage, Kamar peeche gajra daale, Doloon nasheeli chaal se" and so on. The visualization of the girl wearing fresh gajra around her waist and teasing me with her swinging gait conjured golden visions behind my closed eyelids. And bigtime goose bumps. Flowers in the hair have been a turn-on for me since childhood. As a child, I used to love women wearing flowers in their freshly washed hair or otherwise. Sadly, I miss that now. Worn cotton saris loosely draped around the waist, flowers in freshly washed hair, green or red glass bangles and I am your slave. But I had never imagined a woman wearing flowers around her waist and the thought titillated me intensely. I made him play it 5-6 times more till I reached home. Could be more but I am not sure. I gave him whatever money I had in my shorts pockets, scrambled up the stairs, downloaded the mp3 from songs.pk and the video from Limewire. Transferred it to my mp3 player, burned it to DVD and CD to be heard wherever I am. Had an ice cream and a smoke. Retired to bed with the mp3 player. The head was forgotten. Next morning, the dried crusts reminded me of the little agony in the shower but then I remembered the song and played it again. And again.

I wonder how many songs I have missed due to moi timely hormonal imbalances. But this is my perfect song for now. Moi antidote and current serotonin producing formula. Abhi sirf khuda sune to sab sahi hain :)

Obviously, current music is: Pukaar - Sunta Hai Mera Khuda

Bum Bonus

Every working man waits for the bonus payout period, isn't it? That delightful month of getting chunky hits into the savings account. Visit sin city, shop till you drop, buy that blue chip stock etc. whatever hits your fancy. Well, for some reason I can never be accused of bonus gluttony. Like clockwork in every bonus period I get hit by some unfathomable huge dick expenses which invariably swallow moi bonus. Its unerring and now quite eerie. I've gone through anger, alarm, frustration, hope, prayer (yeah), madness and now am in acceptance. Read "The Secret" and tried it to he he. I try everything you know. Don't leave any stone unturned for anything I want in life. The last two companies I joined must have wondered when I didn't haggle too much over the bonus amount and meekly accepted their number.

As usual, this bonus month I am right up the creek with the proverbial paddle. From the nicest chunkiest bonus of my life so far, the "sudden" expenses will leave me with about 1.5 k to splurge. Fuck..I am going to give it to a beggar I know outside my office. At least someone can enjoy a "bonus", wotsay?

I am planning to create different blogs on varied topics. I am still lazy to create sections within the same website. On philosophy, personal etc. The laughter one needs an update. Starting with Touch(e). You are probably familiar with some of the stories but nothing like having them in one place. Starting off with The Tiny Foot which never fails to overwhelm me.

Past life regression

This is a fly by writing post written on the move but just had to put it down before I forget it.

I tried past-life regression therapy recently at one of the best institutes in India. In fact the most famous and recommended by Brian Wiess. Objective: Kill the smoking habit. Well, you can't blame a guy for not trying at least, right? I was trying Just Dial to find numbers of some well known hypnotherapists when this one popped up to. I am always curious about alternative methods but that will take another post altogether. So I spoke with this lady and made an appointment. I was all excited about the prospect of floating into my past life. For all I know, I might have been James Dean for krissakes. Or Hendrix. Bob Marley is more likely.

Got up early, did the yoga, 30 minutes of free hand exercises and took the sweating body for a long shower. A crisp white shirt, a dash of Boss perfume, breakfast of 8 bananas with a glass of milk and 3 boiled eggs was enough to send me on my way. Landed at 8.50 a.m. into the building and went up three steps at a time. Pindrop silence awaited me. At 9 sharp, a lady dressed in a white saree with long hair styled the South Indian way, white tikka and smelling of fresh flowers greeted me. She was one of the founding members. I soaked in her vibrations. Didn't detect any. We got down to business. She asked a few detailed questions about me, family, memories from birth, sex life, love life, friends, work, fears, passion, talent etc - you get it? Another lady arrived who was the one who would conduct the therapy. She looked around 40-45 years old, in very good shape and dressed similar to the first one. Greeted me warmly. We went over my details yet again but this time in a private room with me lying on the couch and the lights dimmed out. The atmosphere was a little different maybe due to her close proximity to me and her soothing voice. I could make out that she is trying to relax me and get into the hypnosis. Hmm. I forgot to mention that she made me do fast continuous breathing with closed eyes for around 45 minutes. She was quite impressed with my control over the breath and that was the point for another ten minute discussion on yoga.

Coming back to the point, she was trying to nudge me into a trance. I could hear her very clearly and think too about a lot of things at the same time. Things like "I have to reach office and do this", "watch a movie in the evening","meet S & P in the evening", "buy this and that" etc. I was also into my normal dreams where I am usually flying in the sky etc. All this happened at the same time. She persisted for quite sometime in gently getting me into a trance but to no avail. I was wide awake and all the drowsiness I felt was due to the dark and closed eyes. Eventually I got tired and asked her if we could close this. She tried to convince me that I was in the trance because I mentioned my flying etc on the couch but I didn't buy any of it. I paid her the session fees. She asked me to come for the next one. All of a sudden, she came over and gave me a long hug. We said our tatas and I was off to work.

A lot of talks happened between us but this was the gist of it. I just cannot get hypnotized in spite of giving in completely. So no more past-life regression for me. Looks great on TV but doesn't fly with me. The hunt for the smokes killer continues.

Current Music: Julee Cruise - Falling