Missing

I am missing something...
I will know what it is when I find it...

The Face on the Waters

The kayak skimmed the crest of the wave, chopping its way through. There was not another human in sight.

Black flowers blossom
Fearless on my breath 1

Large boats shimmered on the horizon. The ocean carried me towards them on the swell of its deep breath.

Water is my eye
Most faithful mirror 1

I was at peace floating on the reflection of the clear blue sky. But this phantasmagoria was missing the dragons on the Other Wind. I turned a page...

1 Teardrop - Liz Fraser

cool baldman

An ex- close friend of an ex-boyfriend of mine was passing through my new town. So we went out to dinner. He likes sushi so I researched and found the best sushi place I was told about. We eventually reached sushi ko at around 10. It is a small restaurant. The waitress was friendly but sleepy and when we asked her if the person sitting at one end of the sushi bar near the bathroom was Andre Agassi. She said yes, he comes here all the time.

He was soft spoken. Waved good bye politely and told the others at the bar that it was nice meeting them, thanked the staff.

my friend was mad that he didnt bring his tennis racket so he could get it autographed.

He looks much smaller live

the sushi was delicious

Martinis at the Keswick

I had bought tickets for the Pink Martini concert many moons ago. I was waiting for some strange person to show up who could be dragged there for company. Low and behold, Ms. Flipflopsinwinter appeared. She seemed strange enough and off we went...

The lead singer of band, China Forbes is hot, gorgeous with a voice that can hypnotise you. To top it off she sings in five different languages and moves with such beauteous grace. Yes, I am in love and black is the color of my true love's hair... But enough about my true love. The rest of the band was amazing too. The cello was indeed the sound of a soul crying. The trumpets made you want to leap out and LIVE. The drums made your heart thump. The songs were funny, soulful, full of joy and melancholic all at the same time. The night all in all was a wonderful cocktail indeed...

Sharing a cigarette

I dont often lend cigarettes, just the same way as I dont lend optimisim. Not out of choice, but somehow I very rarely come across people asking for one. These days, nobody cares. Everyone seems to have their pack or nobody seems to want to ask a stranger. The days of sharing cigarettes are long gone I realise; the days of university.

I often look forward to offering a cigarette to some one wishing to bum one. And I would gladly hand one; helps networking, I figured.

But this other day, I was on the other side of the story. The pack was over and I didnt have the time to pick a new one. I was in a rush to catch the flight. I got through immigration and realised that I did have about 15 minutes before boarding began.

I decided to try my luck at the smoked filled cigarette lounge. There were a few people scattered around the room. I took a seat, carefully surveying as to whom to approach. Who would be the one who would hand me one without any reluctance. I am very careful when it comes to an opportunity to get rejected. So I always measure my steps, read body language and then come to an informed decision on whom to approach. As a result, I have missed out many a promotion, autograph and introductions.

As I finished a 2-minute survey of the far right corner of the room, I heard,

"Would you like a cigarette?"

I knew it was her, I knew it was a Davidhoff but I couldnt believe my eyes.

She was there, in her dark blue suit, with the hair starched & wavy, make-up solidly splayed on and the smile, as knowing as ever.

- Yes, I would like one -

As I wasnt carrying my lighter either, a gold plated lighter gun immediately sprung up and lit the ciggy.

- Its a pleasure to have met you -

"Really. Why is that?"

- Its not often one comes across... someone who has managed to captivate me -

"I have?"

- Yes ma'm, you indeed did -

"Thats strange, I dont think I have ever met you. Am sorry, my memory fails me often".

Not sure if she was taking the piss or it was just her modesty, I smiled.

I assured her that its not her fault.

"Ok, where did you meet me?"

- It was a long time ago ma'm -

"I am waiting.."

I couldnt believe my eyes, really. I normally would pounce upon such surreal moments with full gusto. Today there was nothing.

Through the smoky lounge and beyond the full length windows, I could only hear:

.. Rainsbows and waterfalls run..
In the garden I see
West purple shower bells and tea..
Pretty music I hear
So happy and loud..
Feel sunshine sparkle pink and blue.. *

"You are a strange little fella you know", she said as she stubbed hers out.

"Have a good day" she said and the heels clicked by.











* Shuggie Otis on Strawberry Letter 23

Lost in time

No time for depression
No time for melancholy
Can't sell your soul for peace of mind 1
I wish for happier days

1. Square One by Tom Petty

The Apple, the Pod and I.

Prologue:

Things have been disappearing. And, they disappear, while I am in transit, mysteriously. Oooooooooh.

Take for example my father's glasses, he wore them at my aunt's place which is a block from the sugarcane-juicewalla who is on the end of our block. On his way back home, down the street to the juicewalla and then right turn to go up the slope into the elevator into his 9th floor fancy abode, his glasses disappeared. Kaput.

Ch I

Similarly lost, was my wifey's podie. (Notice that the previous sentence was not in active voice) It destroyed the much needed recent balance my life and I had acquired. A balance that I had dropped when puberty hit me, ten years ago. Finally at 22, not only did I graduate college, I was also comfortable in my politics and my decision to be a liberal in-the-business- of-saving-the-world realist and I had found my balance somewhere in the khaki laptop bag I carried around. I carried it around because, I had many homes in the east coastal united states.

And it was in one of the bright orange pockets of the khaki bag that the podie was placed. And then it disappeared along with my balance. Just like my father's second pair of eyes, the soundtrack to wifey's life was lost. And all I had done, I'd like to clarify, while the balance and podie were busy losing themselves, was go from one home to another and to another in search of a bed and some company.

(What I had done too, however, was left the wifey's company, she didn't want to join, it was my other home not hers. We are separated you see - I sleep on the couch.)

So. My khaki bag left couch, lost black apple and found imbalance and a bed.

Ch II

Following this, I made the mistake of sitting, drunk, in an arena with approximately three thousand nine hundred and ninety nine other mostly-white liberals to indulge in political humor. I sat up high in the arena, problematically, with two pro-israeli, libertarian, nationalistic, american jew friends of mine, with 27 bald heads twinkling on the floor section directly below me.

The situation begs three questions:

1. Why did I count the heads? But Why? The question begs itself, especially because I had just paid two thousand three hundred and thirty one rupees to see a very funny man, be very funny.

2. Why is the national political religious identity of my fellow spectators mentioned and generalized so?

Important digression: Stand up comedians are important cultural commentators in our modern/postmodern world. They assess our reality and point out that it is very funny. It is their job to analyze the world and a very funny man, has superior analytical skills.

Ch III

Answer to question 1: much needed distraction.

This very funny man analyzed his world and made enough money to flee the country once he had a breakdown. He recovered and came back and stood before us to point out to this audience, once again, that weapons of mass destruction were built into our imaginations (or in Saddam's house) to support a singular unaffordable life style.

Its an old joke. WMDs are a joke. As they should be. (WEAPONS of MASS DESTRUCTION. Like the crystals of Krypton to build a continent that will wipe out most of North America!˚)

Three thousand nine hundred and ninety nine people laughed, my two friends included. As they should have. I however, however sadly, sat in passive rage and then, noticed many shiny heads. To distract myself I counted them.

My rage was stupid enough, storming out in rage would have made me look like an idiot who couldn't take a joke. Instead, I pondered my generation's hair loss epidemic.


Answer to question 2: my opinion, my bias (Weapon of mass destructions)

Things were said by my friends: "Israel might bomb Lebanon back to the 70s (ha. ha.) and I'd be more than glad if it did"; "everyone has a right to choose, people should be able to decide whether they want to drink coca-cola, pesticides or no pesticides;"

"America should and has the right to protect its interests."



How could i laugh WITH them about nonexistent Weapons of mass destruction ?

And we laugh. And those who run this country today, signed a Statement of Principles nine years ago:

'Our aim is to remind Americans of these lessons and to draw their consequences for today. Here are four consequences:

• we need to increase defense spending significantly if we are to carry out our global
responsibilities today and modernize our armed forces for the future;

• we need to strengthen our ties to democratic allies and to challenge regimes hostile to our interests and values;

• we need to promote the cause of political and economic freedom abroad;

• we need to accept responsibility for America's unique role in preserving and extending an international order friendly to our security, our prosperity, and our principles.

Such a Reaganite policy of military strength and moral clarity may not be fashionable today. But it is necessary if the United States is to build on the successes of this past century and to ensure our security and our greatness in the next.'*



We need laughter. I need laughter. Reader's digest has proved that laughter is the best medicine. Medicine for?

Imbalance.

So, imbalance is where the personal met the political.

"The difference between the sprout and the bean...It is a twisted string"**

The apple, the pod and I.

And I was done for. This meeting of personal and political imbalance, led me to believe that nothing could ever make me feel better. Not true. But for two days I had a horrible empty sinking feeling and the twisted string in my chest got pulled lower and lower pulling down my vitalorgans.

Epilogue:

If one closes one of their nostrils with their thumb and inhales with the other and then closes the just-inhaled-from nostril with their pinky and exhales with the just-closed-by-thumb nostril one breathes equally.

Equal breathing, my mother just told me, if done 20-30 times a day, brings balance in thought and mind.

I vow to breathe equally. Speaking of which, if you want to be cool you must use nonsensical adverbs. Proof: Scanner Darkly, Gnarls Barkley (not up for argument).

I am moving to the capital of the United States, where personal is unavoidably political. I will be social, entrepreneurially.

Deep breathly.



˚From Superman Returns

*See: http://www.newamericancentury.org/statementofprinciples.htm

** lyrics from Joanna Newsom's The Sprout and the Bean

teamwork

Some of you may have heard of Tenacious D? Among their many great compositions is a song called **** her gently. Me thinks you should all listen to it.

Here is a lyrical fragment:
"And then you say hey I bought you flowers
And then you say wait a minute sally
I think I got somethin in my teeth
Could you get it out for me
That's fuckin teamwork "

You know what I think is Fuckin Teamwork?

BUNTY --> BUNTI --> I-BUNT

hahahaha

did you know

that,

o minha maconha
minha torcida
minha querida
minha galera

o minha cachoeira
minha menina
minha flamenga
minha capoeira

o minha mi nina
minha querida
minha Valeria...

o minha maloca
minha larica
minha cachaça
minha cadeia

minha vagabunda
ominha vida
minha membembe
minha ladeira

o minha menina
minha querida
minha Valeria

o minha torcida
minha flamenga
minha cadeia

o minha maconha
minha torcida
minha querida
minha galera

minha vagabunda
minha mambembe
minha beleza
minha capoeira
o minha menina
minha querida
minha Valeria...

minha torcida
minha flamenga
minha cadeia
o minha maconha
minha torcida
minha querida
minha galera...









actually meant,

oh my marijuana
my fellow football fans
my darling
my people

my waterfall
my girl
my flamenga
my capoeira
my girl
my darling
my Valeria...

oh my shack
my hunger
my rum
my jail

my tramp
oh my life
my mambembe
oh my steep path
oh my girl
my darling
my Valeria

my football fans
my flamenga
my jail
my grass
my fellow football fans

my darling
my tramp
my mambembe
my beauty
my capoeira...

oh my girl
my darling
my Valeria...
my fellow football friends
my flamenga
my jail

oh my grass
my fellow football friends
my darling
my people








----------------------------

Well i dint

What does Rama Rama look like?

Courtesy of Websites as graphs. I wonder if it means anything...

I am free falling...

I always thought that Tom Petty and the Heartbreaker's "Pack up the plantation" was one of the best live albums ever. I think that now needs to be replaced with the concert that took place last night at the Tweeter center in Camden, NJ. It can be released under the title, "Unpack the plantation".

The band played to a packed record breaking crowd. Never before have so many people been fit into the center and never before has so much noise been made. You could hardly hear Tom sing in many of the songs because the crowd took over.

The opening band was the Allman Brothers and they did a brilliant job too. They belted out "Layla" which in my opinion sounded better than Clapton's version :-) They also played "Highway 61" with the Heartbreakers and the jam with Mike Campbell sure did take my breath away.

Tom Petty finally showed up around 9pm. It was quite eerie that they opened the concert with "Listen to your heart", which has been my shower song for the last few days. It got even stranger. I usually go to a concert hoping that the band will play one of their obscure numbers which happen to be a favorite of mine. It usually never happens. So when Tom said he was going to play a number from his "Echos" album, I still did not think they would play "Good to be king". But low and behold they did and sweetened it with an extended lead in the end.

Tom also played "Not Alone Anymore" from his Traveling Wilbury days followed by "Learning to Fly". It sure made me think of wenerd who introduced me to Petty. So thank you, my dear friend, it is indeed good to be king even if only for a couple of hours... I just wished I had met those two gunslingers too on King's Highway.

Am afraid she is not the best actoress around

nevertheless, ..

Poorilum budhi undo?

I woke up and shook the dreams from my hair and then jumped out of my skin. There was something moving underneath my blanket and it was not my hand. Soon a head with red hair emerged out and then it all came flooding back. Last night at a bar called OCD, I had drunk myself to death and hooked up with this red haired woman. Her name I know not. I have no idea why she decided to drive me back to my apartment and then proceed to sleep with me. But the universe should not be asked such questions or else God will strike down upon one's good fortune.

She looked at me bleary eyed, smiled and asked, "So is there a change in perception"? I had no idea what she was talking about. "Of course", I replied. She magically had a cigarette in her mouth now. I never allowed anyone to smoke in my house. "Could you put that out please?” I requested. "You did not have such issues last night.", she countered. I shrugged, smiled and watched her walk out of the apartment.

She soon returned and crept under the sheets and started to jabber, "How was it in prison? You said you would tell me the story in the morning last night while we were... you know." Prison!!! WTF was she talking about. Listening to some of her chatter, I realised that I had given her some story about spending six months in jail last year. I hoped to see some more action so I raked my brains about Aromal's day in prison. All I could recollect in my hung-over state was something about a masturbating black giant. I figured that would not make for a macho story so I then spun a story about how I was stabbed three times when the Paki gang came for me. "So where are the scars?", she asked. "Plastic surgery", I replied. She went silent for while by which time I was already dozing off again. ""KK" she said, "but isn’t that expensive? You told me that you were poor and were about to be kicked out of your apartment." "I became a software engineer while I was in prison.", I replied. She again went silent for a while during which time I tried to clear the cobwebs from my mind. I could see that if I said the right lies I would get more action. So I tried to remember all the lies I had told her last night.

By this point she had leapt out of bed and was walking up and down my bedroom like a lawyer. "I think you are a liar", she declared. "I did not go out for a smoke. I was checking out your apartment. Last night you told me that you had a propensity to pick up fights in bar, was in prison for robbing a bank, was living on dole and dealing kaya to rich kids..." I felt like telling her one of Chandu's famous dialogues...Koodudhal samsarichal vaanam viite vaaye theykum. But shit, I had already done that.

She continued yelling. My head had started to throb and I had had enough by this point. So I came clean with my whole not-so-sob story. She stopped screaming. "I hate liars", she said in a calm and collected tone and proceeded to walk out of my apartment. I followed her to ensure that no property was destroyed on the way out. As she was grabbing her stuff, I asked, "So you decided to sleep with me last night thinking that I was some low life scum who had a jail record and a weakness for beating up people. But now that you know that I am decent bloke, I have become persona non-grata?" "I don't care about minor character flaws", she replied, "but lying is one flaw I cannot deal with!!!"

As I watched her get into her car and drive away, I wondered where my car was and how it would feel to smoke some kaya before breakfast...

Author's note: The following story is based on a dream. Any resembelence to people, living or dead is purely coincidental.

The coolest Manager in the World

_____________________________________________
From: Kogi Kaishakunin
Sent: Monday, June 26, 2006 6:48 PM
To: Manager
Subject: Status meeting

I won’t be there for the status meeting tomorrow. I am staying home to watch Brazil vs Ghana quarter-final (11am – 1pm) :-) I will of course be in for the rest of the day/night.

Kogi Kaishakunin

_____________________________________________
From: Manager
Sent: Tuesday, June 27, 2006 8:54 AM
To: Kogi Kaishakunin
Subject: RE: Status meeting

Glad to see that you have your priorities straight. :-)

_____________________________________________
From: Manager
Sent: Tuesday, June 27, 2006 9:40 AM
To: Kogi Kaishakunin
Cc: Sambar
Subject: Meeting

I'm toying with rescheduling the meeting to tomorrow -- so we can all have a discussion about we need to do with stuff. Any critical games tomorrow that I need to schedule around?

Down to the Knopfler stageline

I always wondered when I was sitting at Knopfler's 2005 concert about those guys near the stage and how did they get those tickets. This year, the future President of America, Zen and I were one of those guys. I don't have any words to describe this concert. The picture says it all. We had 5th row seats and towards the end, Zen and I went right up to the stage. Technically his 2005 concert blew this one out of the water but seeing the sensei of the chill so close that we could observe his unique guitar technique and hear off the mike conversations was faboulous. I only wished I had a real camera, like this guy and that Wenerd was there.

Vot am I doing?

Sitting in the cool,
conditioned booksellers cafe,
when I hear, "I'm really offended
you suggested that. Sir,"
cross little rosy-cheeked white waitress,
rosier,
flustered at not-so-white accusation,


While I searched for my voice,
words which
may well be vords,
vich vell may, BE words.
I am a hindi-spiced English
speaker you see,


Distracted by the dispute
and rosy cheeks, pretending
aspiring to be rosy, rhythmic
poetic
like the girl in the bookseller's cafe
caught-up writing,
by the vindow
contemplating her voice.

Twisted Democracy

This is one of the scariest videos I have seen in a long time. It is scary to see how something like democracy can be twisted into a system resembling fascism. Lee Kuan Yew radiates evil across the screen. You can see that he has a personality and aura which instills fear in people around him. So hats off to my dear friend KK, the man in blue, who stood his ground and exchanged barbs with Yew without backing down. Go forth and watch this video...

Overheard on the Tube

I told you olredi..

awbon see iyn hya loee wang seea

kekekekek....

Are, tek a teksi laah

i told him olredi dat i huv pain in stomach oso

Mee tho chan ee aaw

to chan, to chan

kekekeke.....

ennada, elam soukiyama?

why dont u buy sos oso?

kekekeke.....

vatta, ommale yechu kudhi

i told him oredi that i am feeling nauseous. he flew away nxt day oredi

if not teksi, tek a donkey laah

teri ma ki

tell MM laah, he will get him

kekekeke....

i will i will fuck him...

aala me miy sept tre soo ee aa

waat? you found donkey but no teksi.. aaaaa

aaa mee lum tep se

no no no, you beeen fucked olredi.. and you have more problems..

kekekeke.... i want chicken rice

vatta, kaiy adikarai da.. konju vannama?

{i experience visual problems in the T, so i listen}

Brothers in Arms

I recently saw the video of Dire Straits's "Brothers in Arms" on TV after eons. It brought back memories... I first saw it when I was in high school thanks to Wenerd who would record MTV videos on VHS and pass them on to me since I did not have cable :-)

It remains one of the coolest videos ever made...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xeh6hSzlVRk

Aslan and Gandalf are dead

They were my fish. Cichlids. I need someone or something to constantly look after- Aslan died first - I decided he was greedy. Then I guess Gandalf got lonely.

Or maybe its just me.

Hyderabad- Hyderabetter-Hyderabest

So that's the slogan for 'Citizens for a better Hyderabad'- but what to do- this city has no patience- Traffic is a beatch. As is everything else here... NOTHING changes- just faces and the buildings. It's a lot more trendy and hip and all that- but you can't go from A to B (even if its just 2 km) without wanting to kill atleast two people.
So that was what I was thinking about. Tolerance. What wenerd said was right- tolerance of yesterday becomes intolerance today. We just aren't. But the haleem and biriyani is still the best here...

I'm reading Shantaram finally and so here goes->It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realized, somehow, through the screaming in my mind, that even in the shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free, free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But in the flinch and bite of the chain, when its all you’ve go, that freedom is a universe of possibility. And the choice you make, between hating and forgiving, can become the story of your life.

Like an 87 year old grand aunt of mine said(what an amazing woman she is)- this too will be forgotten- so is it all really worth it? ... cos in the long run we're all dead!

Dreams

With dreams come responsibilities

What if you have no dreams?
Then you are left with your past and future.
The past eating away into the future with every breath you take.

The past is just your memories.
And memories can lie...

My booby obsession

still revolves around this woman. for a long time now.. sigh

trendy

One of the greatest fuckups in this evolving civilization is the belief that "trendiness is good".

Trendy - Of or in accord with the latest fad or fashion..

To jump on the latest bandwagon. To be proud of the fact that I have a 'flavour of the week', which I will denounce next week when it is replaced by something new. If I'm not the one creating the trends, I'm only the one following the trend. Which is pretty much saying "I have very little of my own convictions and will be informed of what I shall like or admire this week".

And that.. is really really pathetic.

And of course, the way to tap into everyone's insecurities is to find new ways that people would be 'untrendy'. Do this or become a social paraiah!!

I saw an article in a magazine a little while ago which was about "what drinks are trendy this year".. what drinks!! Are people such cows that not only do they have to dress the same way when they go to clubs but also have to be told what they should be drinking in order to appear cool?

Who comes up with this crap? And more importantly, who follows this and finds comfort in it?

Tough

Always: one set of people troubled at the rest of the world – its got the ‘anti’s and the ‘anti-anti’s - covering a range of topics – islam, white supremacy, criminal blacks, terrorism, abuse, homosexuality, caste, religion, passports, intelligence, wealth, profession, existence, race. Everything. its all about rights and freedom and wars and protection. all division. Tolerance of yesterday becomes intolerance today. man needs intolerance to survive. Volatility. Balance.

Something to think about (no. 1): My booby obssession

BOOBIES are large birds with long pointed wings and long bills.
Boobies hunt fish by diving from a height into the sea and pursuing their prey underwater. They have facial air sacs under their skin which cushion the impact with the water. Boobies normally lay one or more chalky blue eggs on the ground or sometimes in a tree nest. Their name is based on the Spanish slang term bubi, meaning "dunce".

retro and around

At the Bandra-Kurla complex grounds. more details at www.onetreefestival.com

I now set off metal detectors

All roads lead to the NJTP

Zeminky was driving and as usual he was lost. He had missed his exit long ago because he could not change lanes in time (in Zeminky's world "in time" meant around 7 miles). But it did not worry him at all. He knew that if he stayed on any road long he would end up in the beautiful New Jersey Turnpike. He could not understand why people like Zen and KK refused to believe that.

He was tired of being lost, trying to get to some suburb. He had decided to move to NYC and live right off an exit. He hoped he could convince his bastardly friends to do the same. That way he would never get lost. He knew that KK would never leave the bastardisation of Phoenix and Zen was too lazy to do anything. The salamander lived in a maze deep within Alston, MA. He shuddered to think of going there again. And Khemcho...

He suddenly saw a sign saying Khemcho 385 miles. Wow, the US is indeed a strange place, he thought. They even have a town called Khemcho. He was thinking of driving there on general principles.

Zeminky was now happy driving towards Khemcho. He was listening to "Hung up" by Madonna and all of a sudden it struck him that the words could be twisted to say...

All roads lead to the NJTP, the NJTP
Time passes slowly on the NJTP, the NJTP

Zeminky was now sure that he would one day emulate his idol, the great Bappi Lahiri.

His mind drifted back to Khemcho again. The girl was really confusing him. She all of a sudden started referring to herself as burningyellowcandle and blogging on two sites. He wanted to leave loving comments on her blog but due to her control issues she screened all the comments. Why do all this other that to muddle Zeminky's poor brain. He wondered if he was obsessed with her. He suddenly saw another sign which said Khemcho 350 miles. But he realized that his obsessed mind was seeing things. The sign really said Canada 350 miles.

Zeminky decided to make a u-turn...

Goodbye Chennai (for now)

This is my last day in the land where the koovam flows...

My heart is telling me, I love you still.

I change SIM cards, I change continents.

Where in hell can you go
Far from the things that you know

I don't want to leave but I don't want to stay either...