cry my beloved country

Open a newspaper or a mag. Chances are we'll come across a young face being heralded as the new-age entrepreneur or a young achiever. Entrepreneur - A person who organizes, operates, and assumes the risk for a business venture, basically someone who takes risk.

Now, if we go back to that article we'll find that this "entrepreneur" or "achiever" is also the son/daughter/nephew/niece/wife/..... of someone who had actually done something or someone who's RICH. That's when we all begin to wonder, what else has this young achiever done besides studying in the US/UK/Australia, donning some nice formal clothes and inheriting the family business?

Entrepreneurship?? When you've already got millions deposited (not earned) in your personal bank account since the time you were in diapers, you don't need much gray matter or the never-die-spirit to take risk. You don't need them to inherit wealth or take what's already been handed to you.

Amazing India, where the cow still rules even though we have the tiger as the national animal. Slow and heavy, with a "who cares" attitude (if you've been in a cow induced traffic jam, you'll know), no other animal comes close when it comes to representing our country. Respect this animal for cow politics can cause riots or decide which party's gonna rule our country next time.

Temples. We build the biggest, most-expensive goddamn temples almost every month, almost everywhere. And no government will ever have the courage to say "enough!!" No government or political party will ever say, let's spend the money on schools, hospitals, low-cost housing schemes or roads. Because to utter these words means you are signing your own death warrant.

We talk of the IT boom, we talk of Indians in INTEL and NASA, we talk of the sensex hitting 9000 but we continue to spit on the roads, we continue to urinate wherever there's a wall (doesn't matter if there's a single brick standing) or a tree, we continue to talk about women's rights and pray to female deities though we ogle at every other woman and jump to conclusions or form opinions when a woman does anything.

We talk of unity in diversity though we continue to think and feel Indians are Hindus, Indians are Hindi-speaking people, Indians are north Indians (or people of Aryan origin). Indians in the south are still 'Southies' or 'Madrasis.' Indians in the northeast are still 'Chinkies' or 'Chinese.' We talk of equality but we continue to have, and demand reservations based on caste, religion and gender. Most of us will spend a lifetime paying monthly installments on our homes and other things but our weddings, our sons' and daughters' weddings have to be extravagant, something to dazzle our neighbors.

Somewhere underneath all the colours and the costumes, somewhere far away from the fireworks and the loudspeakers lives the real India; my country, my beloved India.

for you sweety

I asked you once, if I play a song or write a poem for you, will you dance for me?

That Friday evening, I didn't play a song or write a poem but you danced. You moved like a dream in your pink corduroy pants and stole my heart. Maybe, I had given it all away, long before I knew.

They say there's something about a woman that makes a guy fall for her. So will you believe me if I say there wasn't something at all about you? Will you believe me if I say it was everything about you? From that small green mole on your cheek to that ATTITUDE, from the way you crinkled your nose to the way you curled up your toes when you read the paper...I fell for you.

I wanna look into those brown eyes when I wake up in the morning. I wanna kiss you goodnight every night, before I go to sleep, with you in my arms. I can't wait to hear you sneeze so that I can take care of you and spoil you. I wanna kiss the nape of your neck when you wear your hair in a bun. I wanna see you with a flower in your hair.

Thought I could write something for you but all I can think of, are these lines by William Butler Yeats...

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

restless

I changed my ring tone, from 'fade to black' to 'i can't get no satisfaction.' My world hasn’t exactly changed but a lot of things around me have changed, taken on a different hue. Like the clean wet green of the trees on a rainy day or the sulky red of the sky on a warm summer evening. You don't just see these colors; you actually feel them.

I'm getting restless, very very restless. Last week, I saw 4 movies, did some heavy stuff shopping, drank whiskey after ages and ate four kinds of meat. I'm also reading two books - a biography of Hitler and the motorcycle diaries. It's like I want everything to happen fast and all at the same time.

My kid bro will be coming from Pune this weekend and will be staying with me for about 2 weeks. I just can't wait to play the guitar with him or raid his rucksack for new novels. As a kid, he used to follow me all around though we became really close only after he entered his teens. I'm the silent moody one in the family and he's the only one with whom I can talk freely about books, music and all my eccentric ideas. We talk about girls and female orgasms too:-) We are that close though he's 9 years younger than me.

I will be traveling too, very soon. Have taken a 9-day vacation to go to Chennai, Pondicherry and Bangalore. Will be visiting another bro in Chennai and meeting my sis-in-law for the first time.

I'm on the edge. I wanna fly. Never ever come down. I think I'm falling. Falling in love too. Wanna sing a song. Wanna write a poem.

Maybe I'll just hold her tight, say nothing and feel each breath she takes.

ruby tuesday

Life has its strange twists and turns. Slept so late yesterday, images of my life flashed before me like a slideshow.

My first memory, when my mom called me and offered me the bottle of milk my little sister couldn't finish. That's the earliest I can go back and that's when life begun for me.

A little boy about 5, I was crying coz mom was washing and scrubbing my hands and feet in hot water, on that cold winter night. It was the same night I saw a wounded terrorist running for his life, and coming straight to our courtyard. Mom showed the opening through the hedges, and gave him directions. The army came shortly afterwards;tall big guys, all heavily armed. Everyone saw the blood but mom lied and we somehow managed to escape.

A shy teenager about 13, when I got my first love letter. I got scared and never talked to her. At that time, I hardly talked to girls anyway.

Just 16, when I came to delhi for the first time. Homesick, terribly lonely and with a few mispronounced and broken phrases in hindi, I carried on and fell in love with the city.

18, feeling ashamed and angry coz dad and my brothers were scolding me. They were shocked and hurt coz I had come in the first division for the first time in my life. The first time I passed an exam without a rank/position. My neighbours were celebrating coz their sons and daughters have managed to pass the same board exam.

A few more images and my mind turned to women. Marianne Faithful, a very beautiful and enigmatic singer, pursued my so many rock stars of her time. Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones, sang a song for her, when they were still the "biggest and baddest rock n' roll band" in the world. We'll never know what she really felt when she heard that song for the first time; all we know is that the famous "Ruby Tuesday" chain of restaurants came up everywhere.

I still wonder how the most intelligent and mature women are so similar with the most ordinary ones when it comes to making decisions...anyway, here's the song.

Don't question why she needs to be so free
She'll tell you it's the only way to be
She just can't be chained
To a life where nothing's gained
And nothing's lost
At such a cost

Goodbye, ruby tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

There's no time to lose, I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind
Ain't life unkind?

Goodbye, ruby tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

it's my life

In PG, there was an economics professor who really made the effort to know each and everyone of his students. He succeeded too.

Once he asked each one of us to stand in front of the class and speak about our dreams. There were many who wanted to be good husbands, good fathers, and good human beings. My turn came and I told them - I want to work hard, grow rich, see the world and die traveling. The smiles were forced and the applause wasn't as deafening as the one "a good husband/father" received.

He also took a personality test. There were four quadrants and depending on your attitude and beliefs, you will fall in one of the four quadrants. Out of 70 students, only two students came in one quadrant. Another test was done the following month, the results changed for a lot of people. But those two students came in the same quadrant again, and they were the only two.

The professor told those two students that people in that quadrant would never follow rules. They will be a problem to any organization, family or society. He told us that their parents don't understand them, and as such they don't get along with them too.

Those two students - one was me and another was a very close friend. We didn't talk for almost a year; we were both silent and moody. We got to know each other in the 2nd year only, but became the closest of friends very soon. The only two in the whole batch of about 200 students who could talk about Marilyn Manson, Guy de Maupasant, Edgar Allan Poe and Drugs.

Maybe we went too far, maybe we didn't. But we never knew that one night, he'll pick me up from the road, bloodied and lying unconscious. We never knew that I would stuff so many pills in those momos. I was riding my friend's kinetic all alone and he was riding his scooter behind me. I've never imagined how it would have ended if he had overtaken me or if we had taken different routes. It was quite late and the flyover at AIIMS was under construction.

I was in the hospital for a month, another month in my room, bedridden. Every night I used to wake up screaming in pain, the painkillers couldn't handle much of the pain in my head. The nurses would then increase my dose and I would fall asleep after that. I should have learnt my lesson right then and there. But I didn't and I took another chance and nearly overdosed.

Something happened after that, something snapped and I took a decision. I gave up everything - the pills, the syrups, the joints, and the works. I haven't touched anything after that; it's been almost 3 years. I drink only on weekends these days and I'm quite happy with that. And I'm content with my music, with my books and with the few women who have enriched my life. Those lovely women who have crossed paths with me and taught me a lot of things I have never ever come across in those hundreds and hundreds of books I've read.

I just smile these days when teenagers and college kids talk about sex, drugs and rock n' roll. Sometimes, I think we take "It's my life" too seriously. Sometimes, I want to tell them my story, the things I've done. Sometimes, I want them to know that it's not all about our own lives. Sometimes, I want to tell them, "Go on dreaming, be free, be wild but make sure you don't hurt the ones you love - your friends, lovers and family. Without them, there's no life."

Sometimes I feel I'm old, sometimes I feel I've just mellowed. But whatever it is, I'm at peace with myself. And one day, I'll tell you everything about my life and my dreams. I'll tell everything if you would look into my eyes and hold my hand.

friday fever

There's a chill in the air and getting up every morning has become a Herculean task. I'm not much of a late sleeper anyway, the urge to read the newspaper in the morning is too strong to ignore. On those rare occasions when I don't have the urge, the paper boy gives his best shot and makes sure that the thud of the newspaper falling on the balcony is extra loud.

My colleagues have always told me that I'm the most cheerful person on Fridays. And every Friday night, I would go to bed with a head buzzing with plans for the next two days. Inspite of all the ups and downs of life, I go to bed every Friday night, happy and excited. Call it innocence, call it an idiosyncrasy but I would rather call it the Friday night fever.

I always think of making something new for breakfast but when Saturday morning finally arrives, it's just tea or coffee with french toast, most of the times. And I would enjoy it slowly, with some 60's rock music playing in the background.

After that the planning starts. Should I play the guitar, should I catch up on my reading, should I go out for browsing in the book/music store? And depending on my status at that time, should I go out on a date? I leave out the mundane household stuff - cleaning the room and washing clothes - for Sunday.

And then these plans can be broken up into smaller ones too. Playing the guitar - should it be the acoustic or the electric? Should I play the lessons or some ol' rock n roll I already know? The possibilities are endless but there is so little time. I think you must have got the picture by now. I'm excited on Friday nights but I'm a very confused guy on Saturdays.

But I don't belong to that group of people who makes New Year resolutions just for the heck of it. So by saturday evening, I end up doing a bit of everything I've planned.

The evening brings in the few close friends I have. Friends you hardly find in these days of egos and status symbols. Friends so rare in these days of big talks and small deeds. They come for drinks, food, music, and movies. They come to just sit and talk.

As the night grows, a brainstorming session soon starts. What shall we eat? Should I cook or order? What shall we drink? Rum, vodka, whiskey? And what shall we drink with? Water, cola or fruit juice? I've always marveled at the difference between drinking and all the other things that give you a high. You can dope, you can pop, and you can sniff all alone. And people normally don't like to share these kinds of stuff; they do it alone and enjoy it alone too. But drinking? It's a social activity. I've never come across anyone who's that happy when he's drinking alone. Includes me too.

And when the lights are out; when everything's over, I'm in bed, a little tipsy, a bit warm and very happy. Life's worth living after all, as long as you can look forward to your weekends. Life's still beautiful with a few good friends, good food, music and drinks.

55 word story

I've been tagged by flame and have to write a 55 word story about anything. So here it is :-)

He was drunk, walking around the mall;nowhere to go. Suddenly he smelled something heavenly and saw a woman approaching. Without thinking, he opened the door and stood aside. She walked out, barely noticing him. But she stopped, turned around and smiled, "Thanks!" That's when he remembered, that's when he walked back home, happy and sober.

Arunima, you are next!!!