Better with Time

You jibe and you snicker
You punish those who dont bother,
You fake concern and You fake pity
You patronize all those (un)witting.

We pretend, We make believe.
We overlook, We make ourselves believe
What is acceptable and what is not
Are we that respectable or are we not?

To throw in the towel, or stick out your chin
Most people forget, even the strong have feelings

But,
We age
We wisen up
We learn what to say
We learn how to play
We dust ourselves off
and We hope,
It gets better with time

Forsaken....

Its 0045hrs over 48 hours later and the ordeal is not over. That sickness in my stomach still remains, the little lump in my throat still persists and I feel like its almost not right to smile.

Images of the floor at Leopold's covered in blood, bullet holes in the walls at Cama hospital, speeding hijacked cop cars firing indiscriminately at people at the Metro Junction... make me feel like i got punched in the gut... still.

And wat makes it worse is the morbid reality that this will indeed happen again coz noone will do enough to ever stop it. We have to all condition ourselves to get used to these feelings in our stomachs and throats. We all have to live with the fact that when we go out for a drink tomorrow, it might just be our last. Or a nice evening walk by Gateway, admiring the sunset will also include the now unsurprising sight of the 'occasional' jihaadi docking right in front of you. Everytime you walk from Xaviers towards Metro, or everytime ur crossing that junction you keep looking over your shoulder for the crazed gunman, so you can duck, or so you can move out of his way coz he's speeding. We'll have to wear bullet proof vest when we go to railway stations. We'll also have 2 get use 2 the factthat the vests will protect us the same way it protected Hemant Kakare, Vijay Salaskar and Ashok Kamte. We'd have to check for traces of RDX in our Chicken Tikka Roll the next time we eat at Bade Miyan's. Check the toilets, for terrorists or explosives or terrorists with grenades, at the Taj and the Oberoi's whenever we go there to pee...

Coz at the end of the day, that is wat the so called Spirit of Mumbai is goin to turn into.Coz nobody gives a fuck about anything until the Parliament is attacked, coz all those fuckers were garunteed a seat for 5 yrs, and by God they will have it for 5 Yrs. They wud give a fuck if elections were close and they wanted to tell the public what a shoddy job of national security the present govt is doing n that one shud vote for them coz they are better and have the decency to show up at the site of the chaos while the rescue operations are still going on. Their concern for maiking an example of bad governance by the opposition will obviously be very benificial to the otherwise ignorant people.

I salute the UPA government and its opposition for caring to be with us in this time of strife. What would we all do without them?

I hope...that Governments everywhere will take example from ours. The world would most definately be a better place.

HAPPINESS

Have direction and something to do for atleast the next 5 yrs.

Am a Xavierite again.

Out of the house for a major part of the day.

Orange chappals, nice ass Levi's jeans.

Bright yellow t-shirt, Red windsheater.

Pouring rain.

Long empty road,dimly lit by yellow street lights.

Splashing in puddles.

Bob Sinclair's World hold on blaring in my ears.

The loss of a loved one

There's a girl I know,

Who's mama's no more

Wasn't a good friend of her's

But I still shed some tears.

The loss of a loved one,An anchor for your heart

It kept u afloat as long as remember

And when this anchor's broken, or crumbling in the dark

You drift away and your alone at sea

Where Time's a measure of our memories.

Only these we have when its time to leave.

For every memory; we shed a tear,

Brave a smile, We've faced our fear.

With every tear; we try to fight,

To tame the lump with all our might.

Throat all blocked and unable to breathe

We choke back on our memories.

And so i pray, selfishly and cowardly;

Please let me be the first to die,

Before all the people that matter to me,

So I wont have to mourn them, so I wont have to cry.

PEER PRESSURE.... (i jus had to write one..jus Had to)

And so I've come to realise,
Life will never be the same.
That 3 yr chunk of paradise
Only in memories, will it remain.

I guess I was in denial
Coz these thoughts ar far too late..
With my mind now directionless and idle
It comes as a slap on my face.

My cheek stings from the impact
As emboldened images flicker in the dark
Their bodies, none of it ever coming back,
But their souls, forever leave their mark.

No more royally challenged physics theories,
Tho' its spirit still levitates with us.
No more Robinson in the arches,
The Onion Rings we called us?!!

Art was dark in the Manson Phase
With pinkies swept up in waves of black
N goths were sighted at some place
While in epic floods, they laughed their way back.

New twists in old monks
And breakin UVs while jiving on stage
Kalbadevi PGs, haven for the drunks
Curly hair was quite the rage!

Flings that flung with a blink of an eye
With fantasies fuelled along the way
To hold up fans, how hard we tried....
And shreik when "HGC's" passed by our way.

Hearing lost and earing found,
Vada Paos in tomato soup,
LP refreshers all year round,
Oh, that beautiful...beautiful potato soup.

I lived a lifetime in those years
And struck gold, six times over
Enough to last my worldy years
With plenty left over for forever.

Now the daydream's cut short
As flickers grow to light
My cheek's red as i recover from the shock
While Reality switches to overdrive.

Excerpts from the Audible Ramblings of a 9 - 5er

Does 100bpms, distortion and screaming men scare you; Does my calm as death composure scare you? bitch u think you can push me; Touch me again and ill have my mp3s and bpms kill you!!!

I told you not to do that, but noooo... You wouldn't listen to me, why would anyone listen to me. Im jus the voice in ur head!

lunch in 5 min..yey! wonder wats for desert?...fuck! papaya fruit salad... lunch in 4 mins.. yey! wait, you took a whole minute to think?!

As a matter of fact, i am hairy and im gonna find me a hairy man and we'll have ourselves werewolf babies and our family activity will be fortnightly where we run thru the streets howling at the moon!!! AaooOOOoooo..

Ahh.. Mrs. Nomita; She spoke such beautiful effortless hindi. You'd love to jus sit n listen to her speak. I was awful wid hindi but still..she spoke so beautifully; like she'd open her mouth and the words would flow out beautifully... and... effortlessly much like drunken binge vomit.

Autumn Rush

Waiting, waiting

Endless moments crowd

Expecting, expecting

The silent shouts to drown

Walking, walking

Thru gyri and sulci

Running, running

Away from spectral sounds

Jumping, jumping

In restless memories loud

Slipping, slipping

Thru leapholes in the ground

Falling, fallen

On clouds of vacuous doubt

HUSH...........(stentorian steps out)

Earthly music betrays my languished spirit,
But your song has the courage to lift it.
Sweet nothings whispered into my ears,
So softly; we could hear our tears..
Your unspoken words caress my soul,
Redeems me from chaos, calms me whole
And when you sing, You make me drift,
A juvenile feather exploring the summer breeze's lift
Your words my ride,
Their song my stride
Your voice forever, sweet honey on a sore
Silence;   Can I have an encore

Crawl.Reach.Fuck

External beauty's what you jerk off
Inside secrets she'd never be part of

The rebound girl's your best fuck yet
Your broken heart's safe among her fish nets'

Sex they say is the beaten (wo)man's crutch
But if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't be much

Yuor tears wiped dry by the drunken whore
Your name screamed out in climatic throes

You'll rock each other to pure insanity
Ever reassured by pleasure's carnality

She'll love you like no woman would
Still, this masochistic love does her no good

The mascara accidentally she lets slip
But unknowingly, she's already gotten grip

Feelings of (be)longing forever untold
She has your vulnerability, but you have her soul

Commies!!?

How does work get done in government offices? I happened to start working in a place like it... and the plush exterior and sunmica-ed interiors tends to fool you.
Women in mismatched clothes, mangalsutras et al, ambling around talking in hindi actually marathi to each other about home, children, holidays, threatening co-workers...pretty much anything other than work. oh yes, theres the phone calls, for hours. All this, while other willing, serious people are waiting for their snack coupons, since 2 days. Only its a lot of trouble to fill in the blanks of an already formatted letter and print it out. They'd rather not give the waif them, lest she dicides to take advantege of the free food, and eats everything.
Eventually, you wonder what happens?!
The middle class gets jobs in government offices, because of oh so important reservations, so all they have to do is sit and gossip, once in a while type something out one letter at a time so that it takes 3 hrs to finish one page. Remember, some of these people dont have computers at home, so u give them the benefit of the doubt.
After your well spent 3 hours of serious work, you have to run to the loo; thus completing abt one of the 20 trips you make there as the AC is too cold. This writer thinks its part of the reservation conspiracy...making sure you have time well spent in the office.
To further pass the 8 hrs, you have to conspire about people supposedly conspiring against you coz your not a graduate and the new girl is one, and you might just lose your job to the replacement who's been hired for 180 days temporarily. Then you have to hatch up plans on how to avoid her, so she gets the message and leaves....lilte do they know, she's got her own plans.
All this is happening while people sitting in cabins are yelling over the phone to people to buck up, send them invoices, stats etc. If you look closely, the cabins house various managers of several depts,GMs, DGMs etc...
You wonder why the commie-ners bad mouth the managers, stage strikes, huddle together in corners doing God knows what. Thats coz they can afford to do it, coz the government pays them to do it while the managers are getting the work done.
How can someone support a socialist cause when people who supposedly embrace it, are abusing the very essence of the idea.