Somebody was right. Birth, marriage and death cannot be predicted. Read this tell-tail love story! Courtesy: BBC
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Straight from an insane's diary
(I have four blogs. Two public and two private. One of my private blogs has got enough evidence to burn me at stake by the people who think I love them. The other one is where I write insane things like this. Daily ramblings. When I didn’t have the internet connection, I used to update it every week with seven write-ups going to the internet café. But I can update it regularly now. Since you will never get the link of the explosive blogs ever in this life, and I am pretty sure, you don’t want that too…for a change, I decided to post one of my ramblings in this blog. It was longer and full of names, needless to say I have deleted all of them. Today I strained my left heel when my bike landed on a pothole. I had written and posted this just before the accident. I was going to a bakery. I took that as a sign that this post would offend somebody. I decided to delete it. And I deleted it before going to sleep. But after waking up I realized there is a hidden Kaushik in me who would not allow me to rest peacefully as long as I don’t post it again. So, here it is again. Heavily edited. Enjoy, but don’t blame.)
Finally, I have decided to take charge of my life. Though I don’t have any specific idea as how to do that. No roadmap. But I guess, I will start from the very basic. I know it would not be that easy to take control of a life that is led astray by amazing heights of tomfoolery and happy-go-lucky attitude.
But I know myself. The amazing power that God has bestowed me with, to control my emotions and desires and focus on a particular point, is second to none. I have a pretty strong character. And once I decide to do something, not even my inner voice would convince me to stop from doing that.
I know I will change myself completely…completely.
From childhood I have this feeling that I will be pretty short-lived. I don’t know why, but I know, my sixth sense tells me, I will not live to see my forties. Earlier I used to panic, but these days it’s comforting for me.
I am getting pretty early signs too. Three packets of cigarettes a day has almost done me in. I cannot have a hearty laugh with my friends. When they joke and laugh loudly, I cannot join them with a loud blast because my chest pains. I know, I have almost destroyed my systems. It’s just a matter of time before I will be recalled. My role in this world is almost done. But before that, I have some job to do.
I got to finish my book. Fast, very fast. Nope, I will not wait for muse to whisper in my ears. Like a disciplined student, who, with his sincerity and dedication, if not intellect, impresses the Guru and gets his blessings, I will sit regularly in front of my computer and tear out the ideas that taking roots in my mind. I just want to get rid of these weeds. Ideas are like germs. They make you sick. For the past six months I am suffering from a sickness. And it is increasingly getting difficult for me to get free. To concentrate on things I love. To pay attention to the tit bits of life. Whenever I am trying to do something which demands some attention, I get reminded of the fact that I have an unfinished business. The book that mistakenly I started, need to be finished soon, very soon. It’s disturbing me a lot. I just want to get rid of it. I have given myself a time frame of six months. I have to finish the business within six months man! It’s so tiring, it’s so frustrating. I was waiting for the muse to give me ideas and force me to sit and type those and shrug it off from my entrails…but the muse, it seems, is busy. I am not writing anything for weeks at ends. In the process, my other works are getting hampered. Neither I am concentrating here, nor could I concentrate on my other businesses. It’s fucking frustrating.
But I have always believed in signals and hints. I don’t know who sends them…God or Devil. But I have always believed you get signals and hints for anything you undertake in life. My dear friend has decided to start his book (God bless his pen…if I get even ten percent of his power). Though I have started mine a long time back…I take it as a signal. I have decided to finish mine.
But it needs some discipline to tame my wild habits. I need to be more serene and domestic. I have cut down on my drinking habit. Now I have to cut down smoking. Possibly I will try to stop it altogether. At least, I should try not to smoke before I finish my project. Instead of playing computer games all the time and getting a headache, I should concentrate on doing more productive things like forcefully sitting to write, playing with an idea and giving it all the possible outcomes it deserves and finally zeroing in one and developing the trunk.
I don’t have a fascination for women anymore. I have had a fair share of them. All kinds of them. All secrets unveiled. I had to take the antacid of spirituality to digest my women-mania. One fine sunny day, waking up, I decided that I will not think about sexy women and porn anymore. That was the end of significant contacts with the opposite sex. But yes, I pined for true love. I pine for it still now. But nobody’s eyes reflected what I sought. I found a glimpse in one. But may be, she didn’t find that in me. End of story. A major problem solved. There is absolutely nothing which can take me away from my writing and I have plenty of time to concentrate on my job at hand.
How I want to get rid of this project man! It’s such a messy job. I have told my editor about that. And surprisingly he also says he also wants to get rid of it. We both want to shrug it off from our system.
Sometime I think of my editor. Funny guy with an Indian flute-like voice. Full of enthusiasm and life. He thinks as an eighteen year old and fucking I behave like eighty. Man....where from these westerners get all these energies? What do they eat? Beef? Shit. I would prefer to die before I even taste one. Indian cows have the most beautiful eyes among all animals. How can one kill such an animal just for the sake of eating? Thank God I am a conservative Hindu. I respect and maintain my Hindu food habits (Muslims and Christian friends and those Hindus who eat beef…no issues please. Don’t misunderstand me. You are all my dearest friends minus the food habit.)
Holy cow…I was saying about my editor. He is a Pentium dual core processor, meant for multi-tasking. One day when we meet, I will definitely challenge this man for a boxing round, just to see his stamina and lust for life. I am sure I will be knocked off at the first round.
At this age also he is learning new things everyday and implementing them in his daily life. He proudly proclaims in the non-existence of God because it makes Him like a master and the rest slaves. He despises the idea. Oldie, don’t you fear the Judgment day? See the other oldies in my country. I have seen a brave man…who once kicked an idol and defiled it by urinating in it, has become so God fearing these days! He knows his days are ending. He knows now he has to move to the new house. Better please the new house owner from the old house itself. Bastards!!!
We in India owe British much. True they ruled us for two hundred years (is that a significant time for history?) and prosper their bloody rain-drenched country, but the idea of India, in the truest sense have come from them. Bloody, if they would not have been here, Karnataka and Bengal would have been separate countries. I would have to apply for Visa and Passport to work in Bangalore. We have twenty six states now. It could have been easily, at least, 15 countries…had they not been here. If they would have been here for fifty more years, I am sure; they would have made us all Indians. And not just Bengalis and Kannadas and Tamils and Kashmiris and Malayalis…we would have been Indians. One Nation. One thundering voice! We are effectively now twenty six nations. That day somebody challenged me in Basavanagar to speak in Kannada, or else he would smash my bike. Since I am in Karnataka, it’s my solemn duty to know Kannada. I didn’t have the balls to protest. I could not say on his face that Hindi is the national language and that I can speak in Hindi anywhere in India. Knowing Hindi should be enough to survive anywhere in India. I simply didn’t have the balls man. Because I knew, Hindi is the national language just in the Hindi-speaking belt. In Bengal, we frown to hear Hindi and get all gleeful if a non-bong speaks in Bengali. The entire India is full of tribal. We are all well-educated tribal. We are simply not Indian. The British should have stayed more with us. I am sure; they would have made us all Indians.
Ooops…who’s saying that? Am I not from a family of revolutionaries? Didn’t two of my ancestors get hanged and one went missing forever for plotting against British Raj?
Shame…shame you scum…you shamed our blood. Tut tut…go die!
So where were I? who cares? It’s 8 AM now. You came from the office at 6. Now you are feeling sleepy. Go, have some tea and refreshment from the bakery and shut your fucking insomniac eyes. When you wake up you change your dirty habits and concentrate on your work. But I need a laptop man. I need it I need it I need it. Curse me if I can’t land a Compaq or HP soon.
Finally, I have decided to take charge of my life. Though I don’t have any specific idea as how to do that. No roadmap. But I guess, I will start from the very basic. I know it would not be that easy to take control of a life that is led astray by amazing heights of tomfoolery and happy-go-lucky attitude.
But I know myself. The amazing power that God has bestowed me with, to control my emotions and desires and focus on a particular point, is second to none. I have a pretty strong character. And once I decide to do something, not even my inner voice would convince me to stop from doing that.
I know I will change myself completely…completely.
From childhood I have this feeling that I will be pretty short-lived. I don’t know why, but I know, my sixth sense tells me, I will not live to see my forties. Earlier I used to panic, but these days it’s comforting for me.
I am getting pretty early signs too. Three packets of cigarettes a day has almost done me in. I cannot have a hearty laugh with my friends. When they joke and laugh loudly, I cannot join them with a loud blast because my chest pains. I know, I have almost destroyed my systems. It’s just a matter of time before I will be recalled. My role in this world is almost done. But before that, I have some job to do.
I got to finish my book. Fast, very fast. Nope, I will not wait for muse to whisper in my ears. Like a disciplined student, who, with his sincerity and dedication, if not intellect, impresses the Guru and gets his blessings, I will sit regularly in front of my computer and tear out the ideas that taking roots in my mind. I just want to get rid of these weeds. Ideas are like germs. They make you sick. For the past six months I am suffering from a sickness. And it is increasingly getting difficult for me to get free. To concentrate on things I love. To pay attention to the tit bits of life. Whenever I am trying to do something which demands some attention, I get reminded of the fact that I have an unfinished business. The book that mistakenly I started, need to be finished soon, very soon. It’s disturbing me a lot. I just want to get rid of it. I have given myself a time frame of six months. I have to finish the business within six months man! It’s so tiring, it’s so frustrating. I was waiting for the muse to give me ideas and force me to sit and type those and shrug it off from my entrails…but the muse, it seems, is busy. I am not writing anything for weeks at ends. In the process, my other works are getting hampered. Neither I am concentrating here, nor could I concentrate on my other businesses. It’s fucking frustrating.
But I have always believed in signals and hints. I don’t know who sends them…God or Devil. But I have always believed you get signals and hints for anything you undertake in life. My dear friend has decided to start his book (God bless his pen…if I get even ten percent of his power). Though I have started mine a long time back…I take it as a signal. I have decided to finish mine.
But it needs some discipline to tame my wild habits. I need to be more serene and domestic. I have cut down on my drinking habit. Now I have to cut down smoking. Possibly I will try to stop it altogether. At least, I should try not to smoke before I finish my project. Instead of playing computer games all the time and getting a headache, I should concentrate on doing more productive things like forcefully sitting to write, playing with an idea and giving it all the possible outcomes it deserves and finally zeroing in one and developing the trunk.
I don’t have a fascination for women anymore. I have had a fair share of them. All kinds of them. All secrets unveiled. I had to take the antacid of spirituality to digest my women-mania. One fine sunny day, waking up, I decided that I will not think about sexy women and porn anymore. That was the end of significant contacts with the opposite sex. But yes, I pined for true love. I pine for it still now. But nobody’s eyes reflected what I sought. I found a glimpse in one. But may be, she didn’t find that in me. End of story. A major problem solved. There is absolutely nothing which can take me away from my writing and I have plenty of time to concentrate on my job at hand.
How I want to get rid of this project man! It’s such a messy job. I have told my editor about that. And surprisingly he also says he also wants to get rid of it. We both want to shrug it off from our system.
Sometime I think of my editor. Funny guy with an Indian flute-like voice. Full of enthusiasm and life. He thinks as an eighteen year old and fucking I behave like eighty. Man....where from these westerners get all these energies? What do they eat? Beef? Shit. I would prefer to die before I even taste one. Indian cows have the most beautiful eyes among all animals. How can one kill such an animal just for the sake of eating? Thank God I am a conservative Hindu. I respect and maintain my Hindu food habits (Muslims and Christian friends and those Hindus who eat beef…no issues please. Don’t misunderstand me. You are all my dearest friends minus the food habit.)
Holy cow…I was saying about my editor. He is a Pentium dual core processor, meant for multi-tasking. One day when we meet, I will definitely challenge this man for a boxing round, just to see his stamina and lust for life. I am sure I will be knocked off at the first round.
At this age also he is learning new things everyday and implementing them in his daily life. He proudly proclaims in the non-existence of God because it makes Him like a master and the rest slaves. He despises the idea. Oldie, don’t you fear the Judgment day? See the other oldies in my country. I have seen a brave man…who once kicked an idol and defiled it by urinating in it, has become so God fearing these days! He knows his days are ending. He knows now he has to move to the new house. Better please the new house owner from the old house itself. Bastards!!!
We in India owe British much. True they ruled us for two hundred years (is that a significant time for history?) and prosper their bloody rain-drenched country, but the idea of India, in the truest sense have come from them. Bloody, if they would not have been here, Karnataka and Bengal would have been separate countries. I would have to apply for Visa and Passport to work in Bangalore. We have twenty six states now. It could have been easily, at least, 15 countries…had they not been here. If they would have been here for fifty more years, I am sure; they would have made us all Indians. And not just Bengalis and Kannadas and Tamils and Kashmiris and Malayalis…we would have been Indians. One Nation. One thundering voice! We are effectively now twenty six nations. That day somebody challenged me in Basavanagar to speak in Kannada, or else he would smash my bike. Since I am in Karnataka, it’s my solemn duty to know Kannada. I didn’t have the balls to protest. I could not say on his face that Hindi is the national language and that I can speak in Hindi anywhere in India. Knowing Hindi should be enough to survive anywhere in India. I simply didn’t have the balls man. Because I knew, Hindi is the national language just in the Hindi-speaking belt. In Bengal, we frown to hear Hindi and get all gleeful if a non-bong speaks in Bengali. The entire India is full of tribal. We are all well-educated tribal. We are simply not Indian. The British should have stayed more with us. I am sure; they would have made us all Indians.
Ooops…who’s saying that? Am I not from a family of revolutionaries? Didn’t two of my ancestors get hanged and one went missing forever for plotting against British Raj?
Shame…shame you scum…you shamed our blood. Tut tut…go die!
So where were I? who cares? It’s 8 AM now. You came from the office at 6. Now you are feeling sleepy. Go, have some tea and refreshment from the bakery and shut your fucking insomniac eyes. When you wake up you change your dirty habits and concentrate on your work. But I need a laptop man. I need it I need it I need it. Curse me if I can’t land a Compaq or HP soon.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
overexposed profile photo
pentax 50 mm fixed
universal magnifier
f 2.8
1/500
film fuji 100
vivitar body
12.30 pm
my first rose in shillong.
universal magnifier
f 2.8
1/500
film fuji 100
vivitar body
12.30 pm
my first rose in shillong.
Friday, April 06, 2007
finally got an internet connection at home. bsnl was dilly-dallying to give me the connection because there was no room for a new connection. the local cable guy was charging me rs. 5,500 for laying a fibre-optics cable. no way, i am not going to give those bastards money they don't deserve.
thanks to my house owner's son fahad khan, who was courteous enough to share his internet connection through an ethernet cable, i am writing this post. my first post from my pc. he is an engineer and knows a hell lot of stuff. i cannot even imagine what he did. what complications man! life is not simple.
three cheers for faddu.
thanks to my house owner's son fahad khan, who was courteous enough to share his internet connection through an ethernet cable, i am writing this post. my first post from my pc. he is an engineer and knows a hell lot of stuff. i cannot even imagine what he did. what complications man! life is not simple.
three cheers for faddu.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
life on a choppy sea
My relationship with Snigdha was a choppy one. We were not happy. We used to insult each other everyday, every moment. But still we didn’t want the relationship to end. Though we were not married our relationship was a sacred bond.
We were bound by some promises. Though foolish and lofty it might sound today, but we were hell-bent to respect the sanctum sanctorum of the promises.
It’s seven years now we met. How wise were we? How mature? We were two arseholes desperate to love and be loved.
And we loved each other, madly...
But then…
It’s quite strange that we agreed to come closer without knowing anything about each other. We were complete strangers.
I wonder what made her come to me? She was beautiful. I was ugly. She said she found in me a person whom she can depend with her life. I don't believe her. I was not the kind of person she was looking for.
I don’t remember what were my demands that time. What criterions a girl should pass before she becomes my girlfriend. But I vaguely remember, she passed none.
For the first six months we struggled to love each other. And then, when we realized we actually LOVE each other…the relationship become violent. Both of us were not ready to accept the truth.
When I say violent, I mean it. We both were violent. It was a strange relationship. A bloody one. At the alter of love, we bleed ourselves and got sick. Belittling each other in front of others, especially strangers, was our favourite game. But everytime we repent it.
And then one day we were tired of all of this. We were tired…tired…tired. We decided to call it quits. By then we knew we can’t live without each other. But we also knew we can’t live together.
We cried under the banyan tree, hugging each other…for long. We were crying like babies. We knew life is never going to be same again. We tried, but could not agree to carry on the relationship.
We knew we both were sick psychos. Of an extreme nature. Which explains the attraction and the hatred.
We parted…
I left Calcutta…
Given an option, I am still ready to face the chin music from my tormentor. Oh lord…what a time. What a time…what an adventure. She is the only true woman I have ever seen. I can’t help compare others with my lady of substance. All fall flat on face.
I don’t care for security…I don’t care for love…I don’t care for a steady life. Life in choppy sea is what a true man desires. It made me tired, exhausted…but craving for more. Snigdha, you are on my eternal hate list. But you are the only lady I have loved so far…and I will remember you fondly all my life.
We were bound by some promises. Though foolish and lofty it might sound today, but we were hell-bent to respect the sanctum sanctorum of the promises.
It’s seven years now we met. How wise were we? How mature? We were two arseholes desperate to love and be loved.
And we loved each other, madly...
But then…
It’s quite strange that we agreed to come closer without knowing anything about each other. We were complete strangers.
I wonder what made her come to me? She was beautiful. I was ugly. She said she found in me a person whom she can depend with her life. I don't believe her. I was not the kind of person she was looking for.
I don’t remember what were my demands that time. What criterions a girl should pass before she becomes my girlfriend. But I vaguely remember, she passed none.
It was a fatal mistake (and I am thankful to God for that).
So nobody met the other's criterions. But we ended up in a relationship. Two completely strangers…inhabitants of two poles.For the first six months we struggled to love each other. And then, when we realized we actually LOVE each other…the relationship become violent. Both of us were not ready to accept the truth.
When I say violent, I mean it. We both were violent. It was a strange relationship. A bloody one. At the alter of love, we bleed ourselves and got sick. Belittling each other in front of others, especially strangers, was our favourite game. But everytime we repent it.
And then one day we were tired of all of this. We were tired…tired…tired. We decided to call it quits. By then we knew we can’t live without each other. But we also knew we can’t live together.
We cried under the banyan tree, hugging each other…for long. We were crying like babies. We knew life is never going to be same again. We tried, but could not agree to carry on the relationship.
We knew we both were sick psychos. Of an extreme nature. Which explains the attraction and the hatred.
We parted…
I left Calcutta…
Given an option, I am still ready to face the chin music from my tormentor. Oh lord…what a time. What a time…what an adventure. She is the only true woman I have ever seen. I can’t help compare others with my lady of substance. All fall flat on face.
I don’t care for security…I don’t care for love…I don’t care for a steady life. Life in choppy sea is what a true man desires. It made me tired, exhausted…but craving for more. Snigdha, you are on my eternal hate list. But you are the only lady I have loved so far…and I will remember you fondly all my life.
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