GOOD MOURNING

A new year dawned on me, so did the birthdays of family, friends and myself.

With every year, the number of parties to attend started falling.

Sadly the Birthday Parties were replaced with Funerals.

When everyone knew your Birth Date started planning a surprise party, which you almost always knew was gonna happen.. Every year..

On the other hand Funerals are the ones ruling the department of "shock n awe(ful)".

Here you make a birthday wish

There they wish your soul rest in peace.

Here you make sure to blow the candles in one blow.

There you lit some in remembrance of the deceased.

Here people post long write ups and pictures with you on your Wall.

There only one picture with a garland of flowers is posted on The wall.

Here you are gifted colourful wrapped presents by your family and friends.

There your family and friends wrap you and bid the final farewell.

One is the truth, while another is a delusion.

We are celebrating here, and mourning there.

It should be the other way round.

Killing the Monotony

"Saazishon ki mehfil mai

Dhokebaazi ka mukhda

Qatl k parde peeche

Inteqaam ka nanga naach hai.."

She pleaded. He promised. He plotted. She trusted. He backstabbed. She lost everything. He got everything. She had nothing to lose. She plotted. He still had everything. But he was eliminated. 

An obvious revenge. 

Is it that simple? 

Revenge is a dish best served cold. 

True. But its just the same cold dish served over and over again prepared by different chefs in their own peculiar styles. 

What is the difference between Haider, Maqbool, Merchant of Venice or The Revenant. 

The monotony of a routine has rusted into the taste of Revenge. The process is the same, only the treatment is different. So there's a 99% of the world population who relish the taste of the same old revenge.

Then there is an elite class of 1% called The Experimentors, making the whole 100. 

We have fears. They have an involuntary itch. We do things for a reason. They do things because they have to be done. 

"We are ready to die for the one". 

"They are ready to live for the ONE." 

We celebrate festivals. They feast on the ones who celebrate. 

We deceive. They decimate.

They are psychopaths. But we are worse. They are atleast honest to their principles of killing people according to their individual distinguished styles. 

We are cunningly evil without reason but still pretending to have one. 

She pleaded. He smiled. He stared . She trusted. He killed her. She had blood oozing out. He watched her. She had nothing that could save her. Lifeless. 

An obvious psychopath. 

His hands still smelled of her fresh blood. And he heard a laugh of a 10 year old girl. 

*2 hours later*

She pleaded. He smiled. He stared . She trusted. He killed her. She had blood oozin....(vicious circle)

“Ashfaq, Ijaaz, Zarina, Meghana, Rakesh, Chaitanya, Hemant, Amandeep, Harpreet, Ryan, Munni, Suzanne, Kayzad, Parinaz”

Do you know them? _____ Do I know them? _____ What are their last names?

Aren’t the first names obvious enough?

All of them have one thing in common, they are all around you. Either sitting next to you, talking to you, standing beside you, some with their headphones on, hauling a taxi, a rickshaw or standing at a car window with a bunch of colour books, who aren’t even aware of the spelling of the word “colour”

We find all of them at one place every day, someone sitting, someone standing, someone hanging. They know what they all are to each other, but none of them know who any of them are.

They are us and we are them and I am them. I, They and We is Mumbai. From the school buses and the “Drive Slow” yellow Omni Vans taking to school to A crowded local train with the daily mix match of aromas. Parachute Coconut Hair Oil, Ponds Powder, a whiff of a drunkard lying at the door of the compartment, contrasting with A pierre cardin cologne and a head and shoulder’s conditioner. This is Mumbai, where people aren’t classified by their faces, names and surnames but by the wide diversification of smells.

A late night open jeep night out with a group of friends alongside the Marine Lines on their right and on left an empty BEST bus with a fatigued driver and conductor on their way to the depot, its last stop.

An over speeding Mercedes coming down the road with a stack of hundreds in the glove compartment, and a patrol car waiting at the end of the road with an officer on duty standing with an empty wallet in his uniform’s back pocket. This is Mumbai.

A man with tears in his eyes, while receiving the keys to his new sea facing flat, for which he had been saving his entire lifetime. And a woman wipes the tears of a man with her tattered shawl who just lost his home where he stayed his entire lifetime to a high tide. This is Mumbai.

They say Mumbai is a city where your dreams come true, but even today the majority is of broken dreams. The Necklace gives you hope and the sea swallows your rejection, that’s why after the mandatory panorama pictures of the Marine Lines, you have a one on one conversation with the sea. This is Mumbai.

And the GVK barricades passed by, and finally came to a halt. I had my headphones in my bag this time. My phone on silent. It was our last time together before I left. She had promised not to cry. The moment I took my passport and ticket out, she couldn’t hold it back. It rained in December.

GENERATION GFRIENDP

20 years here and there. A lot has changed but it’s still the same. The priorities have changed, but the habits remain same. 

This one’s not about love..

Neither about darkness, rickshaw drivers, sexism or nostalgia.

This time it’s about gap. A gap that, we popularly call the generation gap. But from the bird’s eye view it’s a mirage. The ideologies and the things that were done in a particular way in THOSE TIMES were way better or are way old school. The ones deciding the either of the two with the amount of intensity is what defines the length of the gap.

But one thing never changes, no matter from what generation you belong to.

You both got introduced to each other. It was a good start. You grew fond of each other. Shared a lot of secrets. Later on lived up to being part of some of the most confidential ones. Almost met every day. Some jokes and some nuances have been signatures of your individual personalities, but exclusively for him.

Some instances, embarrassing or otherwise end up creating memories that you cherish some years later that our today’s generation popularly call “INSIDERS”

You come to a stage where you both have claimed and proven to be the Best Friend for each other. Even the other friends around you have a fair idea about your bond with him. But the real test of your friendship is when your regular rendezvous meets are not possible i.e Schools and Colleges decide to graduate you.

Now what! The promises that, you will always stay in touch kind of cliché bullshit. Even after school/college, if you both attempt to keep in touch, and actually do.

Then you have achieved a “Friend” which our current generation terms as “BFF”

A person who sat beside you for almost 3-4 years. Suddenly shifted to Pune, or wherever your best friend might be right now. When you are in deep shit and have no way out of it, but you make one call to Pune at 2 am and with his eyes half closed and GRE class the next day at 7.15 am talks to you for an hour and half just to make sure that you don’t lose your cool.

That’s when you have earned a “Friend” which our current generation calls “BAE” (which actually means Before Anything Else)

In a schedule, where you are so caught up and do not have time to even breathe, taking out an hour or two for a drive at Carter Road/ Worli Seaface/ Tekdi is the best way to bring peace to your mind. Those couple of hours, provides you fuel to handle two more months of hectic schedule and exhausting work.

That’s when “A friend in need, is THE friend indeed”

This is the beauty of having a friend like this, regardless of the generation you belong to.

20 years here and there. 

It doesn’t matter.

I Took a Pill in Ibiza

"Har samay dar sa laga rehta hai, 

Aur Darr ko humesha samay ka intezaar

Aahaton ki gunj mai

Kahi ek aawaz saath reh jaati hai"

Hallucinations Hallucinations Hallucinations, 

 

Now that I have attracted your attention to my post with a big fancy word, lets start a discussion on " Proton Decay, Spin Crisis and Magnetic Monopoles"

 

Just kidding.

Everytime it feels like Everytime is a word,,, everytime used in incidents to clarify their fault generalising with some mysterious everytime.(this is a copyrighted reference from the commonly known as "Voh Chaar Log Kya Kahenge)

Anyways.. Today's topic to blog on is "Something I am not sure about" because nothings left to talk about

Social Network, Done!

Rape and Molestation, Done!

Women Discrimination, Child Labour, Farmer's Suicide *no offense*, Racial Discrimination

DONE!

Everytime it happens to me. (see I did that "Everytime" again)

2.13 am

35.. what would you possibly think about..? 

42.. College's done so now what? 

45.. There have been no Good Mornings since your Vacations start, just because you woke up in the afternoons?

56.. Your friends are busy giving their 3rd or 4th IPCC attempts and you are attempting to watch FRIENDS entire seasons for the 3rd or 4th time?

2.14 am

03.. Meeting your friends from the Ex Mithibai Drama Team just to force yourself to not feel lonely?

12.. Playing on your PS4 for the 768th time the only two games that you got free with the console?

27.. Waiting for "The" trip you have been waiting for but the excitement still not syncing in?

Maybe this is the sleep talking, or maybe its a desperate attempt to pen down every procrastinating thought, trying to make the random vague stuff sound very mysteriously connected.

There is no agenda, there is no proper topic to talk on, there is no motivation to write this post. Still I am typing, still people will read is what I hope. 

This entire post is as senseless as the title. Because its been taken from a song which actually has no connection with the title of it.

Or maybe, the entire post is a brilliant piece which has an amazing connection interlinked in each alphabet of the write up. (Parrellel Universe)

#NationalTheatreExchange

Aangikam Bhuvanam *trrrrrrrrr* "guys second bell" Vyassya

Vaachikam sarva Vaangmayam

Aahaaryam chandra taaraadhi

Tvamnamah saatvikam shivam

The clenched fingers into one anothers  were slowly released, we encored Ganapati Bappa in the city of Durga.

The warmth of the prayer slowly replaced with anxious sweating of palms in that freezing AC.

*Trrrrrrrrrrrr* Third Bell had rung. 

The upper stage lit up, and the awaited performers cued into their particular roles weaving the story of the play ahead.

 

It was our 29th show, mine 1st.

I was sharing the stage with one of the finest actors of our team, I was overwhelmed to perform with him but also anxious of getting at par with his performance. The scenes flew by, but the time paused. 

When you take efforts to not let a particular thing happen, the probability of it happening increases against all the odds. 

That explains my fumble on stage. I was so disappointed with myself because I had let down the actor in me. My eyes were going blurry due to the inability of mine to perform some 5-10 lines on stage. I still watched my partner on stage, delivering his best for the 29th time. 

At that point, in the right wing, as I sat crying, I suddenly realised that Acting no longer was my hobby, it was promoted to passion. 

A disappointment in yourself for not being able to complete a task is the signal from the universe that the hobby has turned into a passion. 

When the show got over the entire crew went on stage to bow and address the audience. I was reluctant as I was ashamed of the applause which I did not even deserve in the first place. 

Of all the trips I have been to, this will always be a special one, 

as Calcutta made a Bombay boy differentiate his passion from his hobbies.