when the times are hard

The world is a sea of pretentions.Fools pretend to be intelligent , cheats pretend to be honest , foes pretend to be friends, and all of us go through such stress trying to be what we are not.We are so mindful of what others think of us.

We fear hate and rejection. But what i have learnt so far is that trying to please others is like trying to move a mountain.there are very few people who are really happy with one's success.Whenver I have achieved something , with the exception of my family and a few close friends ,I doubt people have really felt happy for me . Hence I have acquired this care-a-damn attitude about what others think of me.I hate to pretend and always try to be my own self.Its difficult but once you acquire this ,it can be the most comforting and liberating attitude to have.I am still pretty loveable because I am a kinda fun character to be with.But I doubt how many of them will be around when bad times come upon me.

Its easy to be the centre of attraction at the party time ,cracking jokes and sharp ,witty one liners .What is difficult , is to find a person to talk to when you dont have any joke to crack.Its easy to gather "friends" for the party a class topper throws , what is difficult is to find a friend who will listen and comfort you when you fail the exam.Its easy to find people for company for a stroll in the garden , what is difficult is to find a friend to accompany you during a hard trip under a burning sun.And I realise that there will be times in my life when there will be ill have to make this hard trip,when i will have no wit to entertain nebody,when i would have failed.It is in these times when a true friend is needed.And for this true friend , i would not need to pretend.The friend would not need me to be someone he /she desires,but would accept me for what I am.Who would like me not for being at an Engineer , not because I have a good job but would like me for what I am , and not for what I have done or not done.It is so very difficult to find such a person , but to find him / her , you dont need to pretend to be someone else,but to just be urself.

Don’t know the above crap would make much of sense for u, but for me it always,and is nothing new , but just wanted to write it down , just wanted to express how phony this world can sometimes be.

I am dumb...

I feel there are two different aspects.To love someone.And to be loved.It is said "to be loved" is a natural need.And for me , its a need and not love.As long as you want this person or need this person , you dont love her , you love yourself and want "to be loved".Love is not meant to be a selfish thing.Love is much harder and selfless than that.To love is not to wish for someone to be with oneself , but to give up oneself for that someone.Love is not in sharing coconut water on some beach, but in staying thirsty if it helps her.Love is not in her coming to you , but to care for her when you know she would not come to you.

For me , true love is not about the scene with your lady , where white clouds float around your ankles , and a cool breeze flows across the screen , well fed european guys play violins in the background , and you do a salsa with her and kiss her.For me , love's beauty is in being so consumed with it , that you forget your pains and smile , just because she smiled somewhere , aware of your existence no longer.

Love is not about wanting her , but wanting her happiness , with you or without you.

I am no authority.I am no love guru with the sagacious face and the halo around my head.I am no headmaster of the "Institute of Love Matters" ( ILM.doesnt sound bad ).But the way love is seen as some "coochie-coochie-valentines-gift-holding hands" concept leaves me feeling funny.Love is hard.Love is not a punishment which leaves you restless.But it is something which makes you feel a bliss in a punishment , just because she is happy.

I am not looking at any appreciation.And I do not wish to insult anyone's feelings.Just that I feel, that to love someone is supposed to be something very deep and heartfelt, that when you say "I love you" to a girl , realise the responsibility and commitment it stands for. Its not about you anymore.Its about her.And I am not trying to preach anything here , please.Just that I felt something ,and wrote it.And if I dont make sense , and you wonder what's the problem with me - see the title to the post.

Kahani Filmi hai...

Do you see a Steven Speilberg in me ? A Sanjay Geela Bhansaali ? Are dhyaaan se dekho yaar ! Accha I will come a little down , do you see a Mahesh Bhatt in me ? I think you do not.No one does.Not my mom , not my dad , not my boss , not my collegues , not my friends.No one.But when I see in the mirror , I see a couple of oscars sticking out of my ears and six filmfare awards resting on the top of my head.I reallly think I can be a biggy director some day. And I have been working hard to be a director too.I have watched a mega number of hindi movies , belonging to the "churidaars-tight pants-eastmancolor" 1960s , the "bell bottoms-angry young man-smugglers" 1970s , the "disco-trying to be western-more disco" 1980s and the "overacting-shahrukh-chocolate-underworld" 1990s .And dad says , everything teaches you something.

I have been writing down some "this-surely-works" formulae which have been adopted universally across the hindi fillum industry.Now I hate to share some of these "faaarmulaaas" unearthed after "Barson kee mehnat" of watching movies.But then I guess you anyways do not have a steven speilberg in you to make any use of these.

-- >>The hero falls off a balcony , or slips in the bathroom , or is beaten by some goons and has to be hospitalised.The little red bulb over the "operation theatre" sign flips on.The heroine and the hero's parents are waiting outside with the looks of constipated camels.The little red bulb goes off , a tired looking doctor comes out , slips the stethoscope off his ears .Then , according to formula no.49 , the doctor should say " Hum ne unhe to bacha liya.But unkee yaddashht jaa chuki hai ." Common cold may be common in real life , but "yaddasht khona" is the commonest in reel life.

-- >>The extra goons are shot at by the hero , they die instantly as instant coffee.Not a sound.Just a little yell and they drop to the floor.One of the good guys is shot at.Then according to formula no.8 , he falls to the floor.Then someone rushes upto the dying person.He takes the dying person's head in his lap and shouts at the top of his voice "Main tumhe marne naheeeee dunga ! Main tumhe haaaspital le jaungaaa!".The dying guy asks him to shut up and then croons a proper three minute farewell speech where he asks the other dude to take care of his sister , girlfriend and dogs.And then the good guy dies.But take note , he would never die with closed eyes.His eyes would remain open.This allows the other guy to close the dead guy's eyes gently and break down with some heartrending music in the background.

-- >>The heroine's pink "dupatta" is caught in a gust of breeze and blows away smoothly.Now technically , this dupatta may get caught in the electricity cables above or land in a pile of cowdung or land in a public toilet or land on gulshan grover , but rule no.15 says , that it will keep flying poetically till it descends magically and wraps itself around the hero. Some real aviation fundaas at work there.

-- >>The hero has been hospitalised.The doctor has mouthed the customary "Inhe dawa naheee , duaa kee zarurat hai".Now the formula number 62 kicks in.The hero would have a Sardaar buddy , a muslim buddy , a christian buddy and a white saree clad mom.The sardaar would run off to his gurdwara , the muslim to masjid , the christian to church and the mommy to a temple , preferably Mata ka mandir.The mommy will yell something like "Tum mera beta mujhse naheen cheen sakti" and proceed to slam her forehead against the temple's main bell repeatedly.And amongst shots of a praying sardaar , muslim , christian and a ketchup-on-my-forehead moomy ,our sonny hero would sleepily open his eyes and whisper "Ma".I think this formula needs more research.It holds mind blowing potential for medical science.

-- >> The hero meets with an "accident" , and his body goes missing , or maybe you find a body which is charred beyond recognition.But a watch is found on the body which makes his mother identify the body as that of her son and then faint. According to rule no 81 , after a few years , the hero will appear with a beard , right on the day when the heroine is going to be married to another guy.So the heroine should promise to marry a second guy , but she would not have to , because the missing hero is going to appear in tattered clothes , on that very day anyways.So the moral of the story - if the body aint found , or maybe found as burnt as a burnt sandwich , he is not dead.

-- >> The hero is a little kid still.His dad is a school teacher , named something like Master Deenanath.Everything can go on smoothly .The hero can grow up and his dad can be go on to be the school principal.But formula no.25 says otherwise.The very fact that dad is a "Imaandaar" school teacher makes it imperative that the dad would die.He would most probably stand up against some big builders who want to raze down the school and build a five star hotel there.And then the goons come home and murder mr.daddy and mrs.mommy while our little hero hides behind the flower pots and makes a mental note of the killer's faces.He has to ,after all , grow up and avenge his folk's killings .But that will happen right at the climax.

Well , there are some 838273 more of these in my "filllum faaaarmoola notebook".But I cant type in more.Got to go and sign up Shahrukh for my first movie.And sacchi batao yaaro , dont you see a director in me ? Dhyan se dekh na !

No more thoughts.....

Some of my friends always ask me
“Have u evr thought wht kind of a person u r ?…I just changed the topic and start singing the song “Main aisa hoo,main aisa kyu hun….”
Happy 2 know that at least five people on this earth are interested in knowing me…
Some time while looking in the sky I always think one thing about the life.and that is “There are two eternities which make you down Yesterday and Tomorrow…One is gone and second doesn’t exist…So enjoy Today…This is what life is…………………….

Mission Impossible

hey its true

i cleaned my room a couple of days back coz mom and dad are going to visit our sweet flat. " a clean room leads to a better frame of mind " . so i jumped outta my bed , rolled up my sleeves , put my hands on my hip , looked around the place n thot "umm...can we do this tommorow ?" . naah , i am gonna do it today.yea , i am.

the bed is the first target. its been days since ive slept alone .ive been sleeping with a couple of dirty sweatshirts , a shirt with ketchup stains, some 3 books , an empty ruffles lays pack and a compact disc case on my bed ,to name a few.

im gonna change the bedsheets too.a pink new sheet with green flowers and the smell of napthalene balls is found at the bottom of the clothes almirah.spread out on the bed.cool.ive this urge to jump into the bed rite now.

im gonna change the bedsheets too.a pink new sheet with green flowers and the smell of napthalene balls is found at the bottom of the clothes almirah.spread out on the bed.cool.ive this urge to jump into the bed rite now. but hold urself the brave room cleaner ,the job is yet to be completed.

lets look at the computer table.besides the computer ...i see an empty aquafina bottle toppled across the mousepad....a ponds cold cream (ah,my soft skin.. )...a torn apart "hide n seek" biscuits pack....2 empty pepsi cans(one of them still has some pepsi in it..shall i try to shake the drops into my mouth)......n a deoderant spray long exhausted. i see my mousepad in its entirety after weeks.

now for u my dear bookshelf.besides all those thick textbooks which i havent touched in weeks i find buried between them a couple of readers digest ... a shakuntala devi puzzle book(why did she have to get her face on the cover ?)....2 india today copies ...n a ahem..let this one pass.

i found a shirt which had been there for about a month (serious)...3 socks(n not even one pair amongst them)...a passport sized snap of myself (who else)...n a lot of dust under the bed.

neways , i managed to gather as much as i could and carefully pushed them to the door.i paused at the door , lifted the broom backwards a little and swished down on all the stuff to get it outta the room.

wow , so i did it.now wen my mommy asks "bete room clean kiya ?" , i wont have to lie.she catches me anyways.

now for some celebration on achieving this historical feat.i pull out the top drawer and fish out a eclairs choclate.my favorite.wow.i unpeel the cover and slowly relish the soft taste slowly.aah..it was as good as ever.hey now wat fr this chocolate cover in my hand. i pause a little..and then flip it into the air n watch it land lightly near the table's leg. its allrite yaar , i can do the cleaning some other day now.

Ye to sach hai ki bhagwan hai……..

I m in Pune far away from my mom and dad.I really miss them very much. Sometimes I think why do I have to be away from them.Oh yea,this career's sake.So that I earn a lot of money and make them more comfortable and proud of their munnu.I understand.My being here is the best thing for our family.But for those of you who are with their parents , dont let the moment go unrespected and unrelished.Maybe its only when we move apart that we realise the value of being together.

The love in a mother's heart.That cannot be found in any investment bank , in any dollar note , in any degree .We guys search the world for trophies and medals.But the best and most natural form of joy you can get is in feeling the unconditional love your parents can give you.You will always have to return to your parents to see that glitter of true love and caring in their eyes.You may sleep on huge beds with lavish furnishings in an air conditioned room.But the timeless feeling of relaxation , without any work or tasks to worry about , is when I place my head in ma's lap and she strokes my hair lightly.

Have you ever talked to your ma about the moment you took your first step ? The twinkle in her eyes , the soft excitement in her voice , the slight smile on her lips , recounting that moment after all these years is something else.Different that any other joy.Its like her soul is completely immersed in the unbridled joy of the moment when you pressed your soft and tiny foot against the earth on your own , for the first time.

So just remember that somewhere , those two people , are still wishing for your happiness with all their hearts , and still waiting to stroke your hair with their now frailer hands , and still feeling joy at every smile of yours.

People , you may have created empires , businesses , nations but those two people have created life. They have created you .

Life may be about achieving huge targets , getting into MNC’s, getting a job in New York , buying fast cars . But life is also about watching your ma fold clothes , about sneaking behind her and surprising her,about making your family laugh by acting stupid , about helping dad in cleaning his bike, about mom calling me and asking me not to run down to the stairs too fast.

Life is not about a few big moments , but a million small ones.So please go out , win the world , be a famous man , but please don't ever forget to care for the two golden hearts of your ma and dad back home, beating just for you. To ye kahna jhooth nahi hoga ki god is with u as ur mom and dad…..

Love u Mom n Dad…n miss u ………

Main kaun hooon..........

Earlier this day , I was having a conversation with a friend.Suddenly , in an awful display of veering of conversation , the talk moved onto a rather philosophical plane. Within a matter of minutes , the genral talk developed into an animated discussion and my friend asked me this
" Have you ever thought what kind of person are you?".

I promptly coughed , murmered something about durban test , and then started talking about the weather in Pune .The conversation ended soon after. ( Itne heavy questions poochega to end karni hee padegi na ) . But then I got back to my room , jumped in my bed , drew my bedsheet over the eyes , stared into the darkness and thought "What kind of person am I?" Now I can say that around 4 people on this planet would be interested in knowing about the person I am , assuming my family would be interested in that . I talk about what I think of myself as a person .

Once when I was fifteen , I was sitting at the school library . During a particularly intense browsing of Femina ( Or was it Cosmopolitan ? Cant remember now..was something equally nice ) , I chanced upon this quote by some vegtable seller -
"The most uncomfortable person in this world is a person who is not himself."

I tore away the page carrying this quote and stuffed it in my back pocktet . I went home , and pasted this sheet on the wall of my room . Later that day , “Granny” complained to mom about me putting up photographs of white girls in my room at the tender age of fifteen . Some people just cant ignore a scantily dressed girl in the page background and focus on the quote .

But over the years , I have tried to practise what this quote said . So I have learnt to listen to myself . I have learnt to develop a sense of self security so I dont need to do things which make me 'cool' or 'happening'or 'smart'. So I don't drink or smoke , even though guys around me gulp gallons of alcohol call and me 'sissy' and 'mama's boy' while I sip a lemonade . Improvement is something that belongs to my priority list , but pretending to please your senses is not exactly on my things-to-do list. In short , I am uncool , stuck-in-old-times , and strange to a lot of people , but I have learnt to be myself . I am not very ambitious professionally , and may end up a lot less.

But as the years pass me by , I am beginning to understand the importance of searching for happiness in the right places . Achievements , salaries , accolades , shallow relations serve as a rocket fuel for the ego , but an ego boost is as different from happiness as an Ostrich from Lara Dutta .

I am learning from life , that things change , people change , and clinging onto anything is selfish and as useless as Mohammad Kaif's batting.

Anyway , talking about oneself in words is like trying to fit in Inzamam Ul Haq in the black catsuit Aishwarya wore in 'Crazy Kiya re' . I have already destroyed every limit of self indulgance by talking about myself so long , so I wll wrap up now.

Ladies Only...

Travelling by PMT (Pune Municipal Transport Corp.) buses is nasty business.For one , the driver would consider you a natural athelete capable enough of jumping onto a bus travelling at 25 km / hr and won't slow down much as the bus approaches the bus stop. Then there is the issue of being blessed with a seat to place your ass on , the probability of which happening can sometimes be lower than that of you beating mike tyson to pulp.Trying to weave your way through the smelly and sweaty crowd towards the exit door as your bus stop approaches threateningly fast is another heart wrenching experience.

And by a cruel twist of fate , I have to travel in a PMT bus each day.Now , all the seats in the left hand row of a PMT bus , save for a couple , are reserved for ladies . This noble reservation is indicated by the means of "Ladies" painted in italics over the row.Now what is interesting is that sometimes the male varieties of the homo sapiens species happen to land on these elite seats marked for the females.And what is more engrossing to observe is their reaction when a male perched on a ladies seat is encountered by a lady who demands that he stand up and let her sit down on the seat.

Basically , I have managed to identify the following varieties of males caught in this lovely position , based on their reactions :

1.Raja Rammohan Roy ClanThey would jump out of the seats before the lady would know , almost push her onto the seat and follow it up with a pepsodent smile.I have rarely chanced upon these species , so much so that they can be categorised as an endangered species along with the African Wild Owl

2."well..umm..ok" ClanThese guys would lower their heads , pretend to sleep , read , brood , look out of the window , just anything to prevent from being uprooted from the beloved seats under their asses.But the liberated woman of today won't just forsake her right and stick her head right in front of the guy's nose and growl " Ladies seat !".And the poor guy , for the fear of being publically humiliated would relinquish his throne and let the female sit down.

3. Shakti Kapoor ClanNow these are the guys with the extra wild male hormones who spot an opportunity to satisfy their natural desires in even this seemingly uncomfortable position.What these guys do is to look up , gauge in a matter of microseconds if the lady is "good " , and instead of getting up , shift over and say with a sly smile to the lady " aao jee , adjust kar lete hain ".Now no bhartiya nari would agree to sit on a seat with two other guys , one of whom is a direct descendant of shakti kapoor.So the matter is closed and she keeps standing.

4.The Gladiator ClanThese are the disgruntled souls who don't give a damn before confronting the lady with a super aggressive outlook and yell " main nahi uthta , jo karna hai karle !!!".Usually , these are the guys who have just been scolded by their wives , female bosses , girlfriends , washer women etc etc and hence bear a temporary grudge against the entire female variety of the homo sapien species and use this occasion to let out their anger.The poor female generally steps back unless she has a mike tyson in her family.

I guess there are a lot of other varieties too , but now I gotta continue with my work, so the next time you get onto a bus and more importantly onto a ladies seat , watch what you do.

Main kuch kahana chahta hu !!!!!

And last Saturday I had to wait at a bus stop for two hours . So I decided to act sophisticated by continuing with Richard Branson's autobiography I had stuffed between shirts , tee shirts and other unmentionable things in my travel bag . At a very basic level , the decision taught me four things .One , never fish around in a travel bag without watching where your hand is going . Second , however lazy you are , don't just throw in an uncovered shaving razor in your travel bag . Third , if you grasp the blades of a shaving razor and for some reason it feels like the spine of a book to you , don't trust that feel . And fourth , Gillete Vector plus is a great product when it comes to shaving facial hair , or fingers . If you are the kind of guy like me, here is what I just said - I cut my finger on an uncovered shaving razor lying around in my travel bag .

The skies have been this cloudy here over the last few days . You don't need to be on KBC to be rich now , just start selling umbrellas at Kochi .

As I scrawl this lying on my bed , 'Anjani Rahon Mein' comes up on Radio Mirchi. If there is anything which makes me forget everything , without a hit on the head with a flower vase , it's Lucky Ali's voice . And not just the voice , his songs are so reflective on life too . With whatever I have seen , his music videos usually show him travelling through the countryside and meeting people . Which I think is just like life . In the 24 years of my life , after having experienced whatever I have , from the pain of having cut my finger on a razor to the high of making it to my first job, from the excitement of having given someone a blank call to the terror of her dad finding out my number and calling me back , I have realised a thing . That I am just a traveller , who started this journey with nothing , and one day , will end it with nothing . As I travel , I will come across varied things . Thunderous applause , venomous comments , beautiful faces , luxurious objects , broken promises . But the echo of every applause will die down eventually , every hateful comment will lose its sting after a while , a beautiful face may reveal an ugly soul with time , no object of pleasure can lead to prolonged satisfaction , and it was only my own expectation which hurt me in the guise of a broken promise . So I need to realise the truth that without attaching myself to these mirages , I have to enjoy the journey . Life is not about clinging to these ever changing stations on the way . It's about understanding that it's all just a journey , to end in nothingness one day .

Dil Chahta hai!!!!!!

As life progresses , im beginning to gain the "ability" to NOT take it too seriously and grimly.Ive been through MCA( ok , the rank looked like an extension number).Ive stayed at flats and hostels and been through whatever they do at boy's hostels..Ive been termed a decently intelligent scholar by some people (were they drunk ?)and been labelled a total waste of flesh and blood by many (now this is some sensible stuff ).ive been through crashing my bike into a wall.ive cried like a kid watching rajesh khanna die in "anand" and cowered like a old woman watching the "omen".

Im just 26 and have quite some years before i crash into hell (heaven for me ? i dont know).But even now if i look back at my life ,its just like a story with its share of laughs , ,triumphs , dissapointments , pain and joy.I see that even though I tend to look at the world as if i am the central pin of the world with all this stuff happening around me, im not.i am just one of billions of people ,each one living his or her story.Everybody thinks his/her is "THE" story.but if i step back a little and see at my life from the outside ,like another person would , i find i am just a little peg in this big thing we call the world.and my story would see its last too one day.So i just want to have a good time. Life is not an exam to be cracked for me.just live life.just have a good laugh , love and be loved.take it easy.

I don't want my blogs to look like a research project.I don't want it to have many complications.I dont want it to have too many intense and soul searching moments. I don't need to win the world.I dont want my statues to be erected all over the place with pigeons dropping their digested breakfasts over my stony head.I dont want to be applauded with the world falling at my feet.I just want my story to look like a little and light romantic comedy.A few tears and more laughs.Hugs and smiles.A little simple sweet story with no villains.I wud just be content to have a house full of laughs, stumbling kids, satisfied parents and a wife who thinks i am tolerable(am i tolerable , silly ? ;) ).I wud love just to sit with my family on a chirpy sunday afternoon.having a good time teasing and laughing.eating a yummy (and cheap) lunch and a cool vanilla icecream.

I dont say I won't work hard or that I don't have any goals.For heavens sake , I am really working with a reputated organization,i worked HARD for it and am happy to be here and have more plans in store.You can have doubts on my abilities if you want. Its a source of satisfaction for me and my parents belief that i would achieve more things too , I know.But I won't let myself be sucked into any mean and fast rat race , if that's the concept of life for anybody.I want my life to sound like a little , sweet n love -filled symphony.may not be noticed by the world , but sweet nevertheless.Thats cool.

koi lauta de mere beete hue din.........

When I was a little kid ,I thought adults lead the most cool life.I never saw my dad learning multiplication tables of 2 to 16.I never saw mom have to learn about the Maurya empire.Parents could watch TV whenever they want.They could be awake till late night.

But there is something very cool about being a kid.When you are a kid , life is like an unopened box.You dont know what will come out of it.Maybe chocolates , maybe spiders , maybe rabbits , maybe a little doll ,maybe toilet paper.And that gives a very beautiful sense to a kid - a sense of wonder.It is not the same as worry.The kid is still not old enough to worry about if his future son would smoke marijuana or about his future wife's beauty parlour expenses.So he does not view any situation and runs a little mental calculator and think -"hmm.A kid is just a kid.He has no forlorn memories and no worries of the future.He just views the fun going around him with awe and amazement.A ride on daddy's shaky red scooter amazes him.A fly on the table amazes him. Cigarette butts lying on the street attracts him.Atleast I was attracted by them when I was a kid.

And he aint an mba or doctor or engineer or fashion designer or a gangster or a barber yet.A kid can imagine he would grow up and be anyone.He can imagine becoming a firefighter and rescuing young girls from a girls hostel on fire and then walking off into the sunset will all of them.He can imagine becoming a cricketer and hitting 147 off 93 balls and then grab 5 wickets for 11 runs to help India win the world cup.He can imagine becoming a Bill Gates and wipe his running nose with dollar notes.All that I can imagine now is working my smooth ass off at some airconditioned office , and come home to watch some late night movie on HBO and crashing to the bed.

Im living like im watching a jim carrey movie for the 21st time.Im enjoying it , but I know whats coming next.Or maybe I am not interested in whats coming next.The life box has been opened and I know life is nothing more than an alternation of sweet chocolates and awful medicines.I have had heartbreakingly difficult times.Like the time that itchy brown stray dog on my street chased me along the length of six houses and finally bit me.Ive seen amazingly good times.Its like a sagacious attitude has descended upon me like - I know what life can do to me.Its like I feel every victory or defeat is trivial.Because life is just a prime time slot given between birth and death.whatever we achieve here aint so important , is it ?

All the boyish things which seemed fun to me some time ago seem ...well...boyish to me now.All this pretension and jealousy and ego around is making me turn away from some people.I am turning more and more of a private person.I spend hours in my room with music.I was never after material things.I never had any dreams of flat plasma televisions with surround sound or those long black cars which have six doors.All i used to dream was of a happy and close family life.But lately I am starting to see all relations as a source of attatchment and misery in the long run , and thats a scary and empty feeling to have.I love my parents,brthr and sister and a few other people.But I feel too much attachment causes pain to all.I care a lot for them but I dont want to possess anyone now.I would give my life for them , I dont want to own their lives.I just want to let go.I just dont want to cling to anything.Maybe I fear losing it.Sometimes I feel I have forgotten to love.Sometimes it seems I have found what true love is only now.People say I am turning away from them.I feel I am turning in to myself.


Some people spend their lives searching for what they want.Some people spend their lives searching that what it is that they want.I just live each day and dont even want to search because I feel I just do not want anything.

Life is peacefully empty.I do not know if I want it to change.Something needs to be different maybe.I am not sure,Maybe I need to shake up the kid in me.The life box needs to throw up something i dont know.I need to redisover the sense of wonder .I think ill start by redeveloping an interest in cigarette butts lying on the street.

An idea can change ur life !!!!!

During the fourth semester one of my fast frend bought a new mobile, that has been gifted by his father.It was as big as a extra juicy bumper sized hotdog. The antennae on its top could have been used for pole vaulting over the college gate. When he sat down in the classroom ,with the cellphone in his trouser's pocket , the antennae found its way towards the front part and stuck out. When i noticed that , i whispered "idiot. Put that Police type walkie talkie on the table. The thing is sticking out ".

When the girls saw that , they turned red and started turning the pages of their books in disgust . I hated that cellphone.Since what a wrong imagination its going to create . But the damage had already been done by the previous one . Some of the girls in our class still believe it was not the antennae.Since from that day I had decided no to get the phone with an antennae. In the final year,I was gifted a new cellphone, this was the first one to me. This was much smaller and had no antennae. Thank god…….

Bhaag basanti teri dhannoki ijjat …….!!!!!

I remembered one of the day during my PG days, one day walking down a street after getting off a bus . A 40 something man , riding a green scooter passed me , slowed down and asked if I wanted a lift . Feeling glad that such people still exist in the northern hemisphere , I happily nodded and jumped onto the pillion. I had heard about hitchhikers being robbed or molested , but that stuff happened in cars with tinted glasses . I dint really see him robbing a college bag with a battered notebook and a leaking pen inside , and dint really see that happening on a green old scooter which had no windows , tinted or otherwise .

He started off with some sweet talk , asking me about my college and engineering , which made me a little uncomfortable as I feared he may ask about my marks next , which were so low that I needed a submarine too find them . But my measurement device blew up when he actually took a hand off the handle and placed it on my thigh in such a way , I knew this was "When Harry met Harry" happening with me . I immediately asked him to stop and got off . The freak threw a 'please come again' smirk at me as I hurried away.

If you think I am making it up for some reason, it's fine , I don't think a certificate saying anything like "It is hereby certified that Mr.Naveen has been molested according to prescribed techniques by Mr.Freak on a green scooter" , will add much value to my CV.

Crazy Kiya Reeee...................

The day when I went to see the “Rang De Basanti”.Roomie asked howz the movie and what I said-“ Even if you have no paisa in teri pocket . Girlfriend se maang , Dad ke fake sign karr , dost ki bike dhokar kamaa , kidney bhech de , intestines bhech de , pancreas bhech de , saale eyes ke alaawa sab kuch bhech de .Eyes matt bhech diyo. Nahi to saari movie mein yehi poochta rahega saath wale se - "Bhai saab , Aamir ki entry ho gayi kya movie mein ?"
This was the extreme passion possess by me for mooooovies…..

Log kya kahenge.....

ppl say that bachelor life is fun.but thats it all is-fun.and this life is not just a fun trip.i want happiness,not thrill.and home is where happiness is.but since im staying for my own,so fr the next coming years,im gonna try to make it as useful as possible.hopfully, the responsibilities will make me a better person and the independence will not serve to spoil me .ill be very busy and occupied there,but i really feel for mom and dad.and this seperation will make me all the more aware of the reason fr im doing this.i always pray to god to keep me on the right track and give me the strength to do what is right.

The first one

Some things i can see ive to do are upgrading the comp,finding out something to study/read and basically doing something constructive.n yea,i also hope that a new project is going to get assigned as soon as posssible and everything turns out fine.
ok.this is the start of a momentous new phase in my life as a blogger.

Flashback

how did this start? is this it?is this the start of what i imagine is going to be a momentous journey,a journey thru which i intend to put down my life in type ? my project delivery has got over last wednedsday(25th April) and since then ive just tried to find something to do.but ive landed up just preparing fr an interviews and watching our newly got tv with cable onnection.but about an hour back i decided that im not right in wasting away time when a hugely challenging time awaits me .
so i put off the TV n guess what..im planning to start a blog.