The Fool’s Farewell

“Do you want to listen to some music while we sleep”, I asked her.
“Sure, that will be sweet”, she replied.
“We will have to share my ear phones. Do you mind?” I queried.
“We have shared much more so why not ear phones too”, she said with that mischievous smile that I knew I was going to miss.

I silently handed her an ear piece and turned on the soundtrack of the Quiet American on my MP3 player. I lay down beside her on the bed and popped the other ear piece in. The slow sensuous voice of that unknown Vietnamese singer filled my world. If a soul could cry, this is how it would sound.

We did not touch. The only thing that connected us was the music. We looked at each other. Her eyes had more streaks of yellow. We said nothing to each other. All that needed to be spoken was already part of the sound waves of the past. Soon sleep overtook us and I dozed off. I woke to the stars shining on her ceiling as the last song in the album was playing. I looked at her sleeping peacefully. I eased the ear piece from her. The silence did not wake her. Easing out of the bed, I made my way to living area of the studio. The Fool’s poem nudged its way into my head and I sat down to write it down.

In that last dance of chances
I shall partner you no more.
I shall watch another turn you
As you move across the floor.

In that last dance of chances
When I bid your life goodbye
I hope she treats you kindly.
I will hope you learn to fly.1

I looked up to see if the scratching of my pen woke her. She was sleeping blissfully without a care in the world. I finished jotting down the poem from memory and slipped it into an envelope. I then quietly packed my stuff thinking longingly of the happy few days spent in the tiny studio. I then snuck into the bedroom and looked at her. She did not wake. The envelope with the poem I left on the bed next to her and stealthily made my way out, hoping the closing of the door would wake her.

In that dance of chances
When I know you'll not be mine
I will let you go with longing
And the hope that you'll be fine.1

The elevator brought me down to Earth and I then had to rake my head to figure out where I parked my car. After walking a few streets I realized I had parked it right inside the apartment complex. I turned the car on allowing it to warm up. A cancer stick seemed inviting, so I hopped out and sucked on one. I hoped she would have realized that I had left by now. She did not come.

In that last dance of chances
We shall know each other's minds,
We shall part with our regrets
When the tie no longer binds.1

As the light of cigarette dimmed so did my hope. I looked up at the night sky. There were no stars. I got into the car and moved on…

1. "The Fool's Poem" by Robin Hobb from The Tawny Man trilogy.

Days of being wild - Part III

Part I
Part II

The Singaporean’s name was Nek and he seemed quite happy to see us. We were bewildered. “Boys, you should have waited for me before venturing into the Tower”, he quipped excitedly gesturing towards the building behind us. We had no idea what he was talking about. Wenerd and I glanced back and the Tower stood there looking ominously back at us. Nek had his arms around our shoulders and was trying to drag us back into the building. I tried telling him that it was a farcaster but he would not listen. Wenerd too seemed a little worried about going back in but I soon realized it was for different reasons. “Bugger, what are you going to do about the people inside”, he asked Nek. We were promptly given a packet each which he asked to put into our pockets. “Use it only when there is no other hope”, he warned. My mind was still reeling from dealing with the Shoes, missing matrimony, being farcasted and I did not quite comprehend this exchange.

Walking into the Tower somehow did not farcast us back to the Khemer Empire. The inside turned out to be a mall with bars and night clubs lining the sides. I followed the Singaporean and Wenerd into one of them. It was called The Ipanema Club and my first glance assuaged my rising fear. We plopped our tired asses at a table and soon we were plied with alcohol. As we softly waded into the booze I realized I was in fact happy to be here and it was good to see Nek after eons.

The conversation soon got lively the way it should among good friends. Nek regaled us with stories of Zen smelling his underwear to stay alive in a sauna. Wenerd had us in splits about his “dancing days” story. Soon a band started to play, lead by this very hot Malay singer. Nek was ogling her the moment she touched the staged.

As the beer started doing a number in my head, I noticed that there were uncommonly huge numbers of hot looking Asian women wandering around us. I was about to ask Nek about them when one of the hotties practically seated herself in my lap. I swallowed very slowly. She said nothing and proceeded to kiss my neck. Then I felt a pin sink itself into my jugular and I did a fade away, throwing the girl off my lap. I ended up awkwardly on my ass clutching my neck. The girl was standing over me smiling. “Don’t want to part with some of your life blood, sweetheart?” she asked and started to walk away. I was completely confused when she turned and snarled at me revealing it was not pins that were playing with my jugular. She seemed to be a vampire.

Nek helped me to feet and asked with a dumb expression on his face, “Fucker, what made you ask her to come over?” “I did not ask her over and what is the place?” I explained. He started to grin and I could hear that bastard Wenerd guffaw behind me. “Hot Asian girls make your blood flow brother. But in here they happen to be nocturnal creatures too. So it makes it more exciting. Wenerd and I planned to bring you here all along”, he revealed. My friends were conspiring to get me killed. With that thought in my head I lurched, weaving my way through vampires to the bar.

I ordered a double Jack on the rocks and was soon joined by the two fuckers who seemed very amused. “Boss, we can leave if you want”, said Wenerd in between his mirth. I downed the double and waited for it to work its magic on me. “Fuck it boys, lets put a few drinks and chill the motherfucker down.” I said, suddenly filled with some misplaced bravado. Almost in answer we were accosted by the two most beautiful vampires. But they made a beeline for my fine friends. With much amusement I watched them feint and hold off the attack and magically they did. One of them detached herself and grabbed me all in one fast blur. She was breath taking. Her name was Nimnam and she wanted my blood and only mine. I did not know if I had the power to resist this one.

She had her arms around my neck and was looking longingly at my jugular. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in her aura. “Your friends have left you”, she whispered in my ear. My eyes almost popped out of my sockets as I watched the two of them slink off towards the stage to ogle at the Malay. “Let’s go and drink some of your blood”, Nimnam continued to whisper. I could not answer because the band came on with a really loud number for which I am sure I had my friends to thank for. I somehow detached myself from her and tried to make my way out of the bar. But I could not shake her. She had me back in her grasp again near the door. “Just a little blood”, she crooned. I gave in. Only a pint I hoped. Her sharp molars made punctures in my neck and I could feel my life blood seep away. Two minutes which to me seemed like an eternity passed and she let go off me. “Jack Daniels. Yummy”, she said smiling that deadly smile of hers, “Go back to your friends now. They are waiting for you. And don’t worry. No one will bother you tonight. I have left my mark on you. BTW, give me my packet.” I handed her the packet that Nek gave me and then she disappeared.

I shakily walked back into the Ipanema. Wenerd and Nek were leaning against the bar looking at me with a dazed expression on their faces. I joined them in their leaning. “Good show bugger”, says Wenerd handing me another Jack.

(Chris slowly pans the camera out. You know how these scenes are. There is a blur of motion around the three of us but we are the only things in focus.)

Reality slowly kicks in. Nek and Wenerd realize that they have to work tomorrow. I have to contemplate my trek back home. The three of us slowly make our way out of the Tower onto the road. Wenerd hails a taxi. I glance back one final time at the Tower. I don’t think I will ever forget the vampire from Ipanema.

(“That’s a take folks”, says Pen-ek and everything goes dark)

Duhh

All the way from down under jadeeyez showed me :
The Singhs

Neela Vacuum

A neela vacuum cleaner magically appeared at my doorstep a few weeks ago. I first spied it sitting outside my apartment one evening after a days work. I have no idea how it got there. There was much speculation about it between me and Aaromal. I was afraid it was a booby trapped apparatus left outside by a certain ex-girlfriend. I was afraid to even test it out. Aaromal wanted to plug it and then run away while I turned it on.

All the while it continued to sit outside my apartment come rain, snow or shine until this weekend. I was sitting outside reading and drinking beer when my cute upstairs neighbor walked by. I stopped and asked her if she knew anything about this magic vacuum. She said she thought it was mine. I confessed my fears about it being booby trapped. She calmly picked it up and said, "Don't worry, I will throw in the bin for you" and walked away with it. I now really know how Michael Yossarian felt when the new recruits walked away with "The Dead Man in the Tent".

PS: Aaromal must be saying, "Avande uru neela vacuum. Olake de moode."

Ms. Flipflopsinwinter and FabIndia

Ms. Flipflopsinwinter was always full of fun, humor and laughter. I tried in vain to make her feel blue and melancholic. I then prayed to the lower level demon Azazel for a boon to help me in this endeavor. So after 120 straight days of being melancholic, he appeared before and thundered, "Buy her a blue shirt from FabIndia and you will have your wish". He then disappeared in a "puff" of smoke.

On my trip to India last December I purchased this weapon and presented it to Ms. Flipflops with great ceremony. I hoped she would wear it soon and she did. I received an email from her saying the shirt made her blue. I was going to jump in joy when I read something about the dye not washing off. I then realized it had just messed up the rest of her laundry. As I was thinking that I might have to end up buying the evil girl a fresh new wardrobe, she explained that she wore the shirt in the rain and it turned HER blue. Damn you Azazel. I should have listened to my mother who still maintains that FabIndia is overpriced shit meant only for NRIs.

And so it ends...

This is not how he would have wished to leave his mark on the World Cup 2007. But unfortunately this is the image that will be stuck in minds of billions of viewers. Bowled through bat and pad by an young fiery upstart. Hunched down as if the ball had kept low, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar leaves his World Cup career bereft of any magic. Memorable magic on the sport field can happen when the chips are down and the stage is big. SRT consistently failed in such scenarios. Our lives have seen good performances from the little master but they all have been empty of the final victory.

And hence the World Cup 2007 has come to a crashing halt for the Indian cricket team. Hopes of billions have been dashed. And the big three of my generation will leave this game without a WC to their name. I don't know why but it saddens and depresses me. But it does. It really really hurts to see this team bow out of the tournament without even a whimper. At least it did not end with violence and death like it did for the Pakistanis.

The only bright spot in this cup has been the voice of one lone gentleman. With Bangladesh well placed in the chase, his voice softly intoned, "If we can get half the side out for 150, we still have a chance". With Dravid fighting valiantly at the end he prayed, "Dravid must do something to see us home". He did not lose hope until the final ball. And notice the use of the words we and us cause the speaker was not Indian. He was John Geoffrey Wright. Hats off to you my friend. If it is was left to me I would honor you with an Indian citizenship, little as it is worth for I know not how to thank you.

Days of being wild - Part II

Part I

We found ourselves in a large room with rows of tables and chairs. There was a stage at the far end. On the whole it looked like a cross between a restaurant and a hospital dorm. A few people were eating in a corner. There a bunch of beautiful Asian women in identical pink dresses walking around. One of them came towards us and led us to a table. We followed without asking any questions. We were just happy to be away from the Shoes. A menu was placed in front of us. Wenerd instinctively asked for beer and karaoke. Our waitress stared, smiled at us and walked away. This is when I noticed her. She swayed her hips gently when she walked. She was breath taking. “Boss, she is HOT. I think we should just fuck it and eat here. I want to be waited up on by her.”, I told Wenerd. He murmured his agreement. I opened the menu to find it completely in Korean. The only thing in English was the name of the restaurant, Pyongyang Friendship Restaurant. So we were in North Korea!!!

Wenerd hoped that my babe would help us order food. I soon spied her floating towards us with Angkor beer. She placed the glasses in front of us and poured the beer in the strangest fashion. Her arm was ramrod straight and the beer bottle was parallel to the table. The beer gushed into the glass and she stopped pouring when the glass was full. There was right amount of head and not a drop of it overflowed. I then realized that we were in a magical place.

My babe was waiting for us to order. I was thinking about how to propose matrimony to her. Wenerd still wanted karaoke. So there was stillness. After few sips of beer we asked for help with ordering. She had no idea what we were saying. She spoke not our language. At that instant I was completely sure that I was going to marry this goddess.

Thankfully the menu had pictures so we randomly pointed at two tasty looking dishes and ordered them. We then struggled to order rice. To this day we have no idea what we ate. After placing our order I watched those wonderful hips swaying away. I then told Wenerd that I am going to marry this girl. He said, “Put macha put.” But I don’t think he realized how serious I was.

The food soon showed up but my babe did not. She was replaced by another. In their pink outfits they all looked the same. But I could tell the difference. I was outraged. I tried telling her that I won’t eat if I am not served by my babe. She too spoke not our language. Wenerd calmed me down and said we will look for her after eating. I was hungry too so we ate like pigs. The unnamed dishes were very very good.

In the middle of our meal we heard a commotion and soon found the pink waitresses were on the stage. Few were playing instruments and the others were doing this strange dance. We called it the Communist Propaganda Dance. By the time the dancing and singing was over we were done with the food. I got up to look for Her and Wenerd settled the check. I tried talking to the other pink ladies about the One. But not a single one could speak English. I was starting to get pissed. Wenerd came and grabbed me when I was trying to force my way “back stage”. “Boss, I did not think you were this serious”, he said. “I want you to be my best man”, I replied. This is when he started to drag me out. People were looking at us and then those damn Shoes showed up. Wenerd just pulled me towards a door which we hoped was the exit. It was.

We ran out into a real busy well lit street. Wenerd stopped in his tracks.

“Bugger, we are on Tower Road”, he whispered.
“So what”, I said, still pissed off over my near miss matrimony.
“Tower Road is in fucking Singapore”, he moaned.
And then we saw the Singaporean walking towards us…

To be continued…

Days of being wild - Part I

The lights of the TopTown Karaoke shimmered and beckoned. "Let’s put one bugger, before we go", whispered Wenerd. I obeyed him. We allowed the carcinogens infused with wonderful kaya to seep into our conscious. I know not if we were conscious from that point on. We walked towards the building with the blinding lights like knights before a conquest.

We were accosted by a lower level demon outside the place who welcomed us in. We said all we want is Angkor beer and karaoke. "No problem", he said and ushered us in. The first thing I saw was shoes. Lots of them. And they were moving and whispering in Khemer. All of a sudden there was this big fat shoe in front of us leading us up some stairs and right into a room. While climbing the stairs I noticed some terrace farming happening at the end of the hall. They were cultivating shoes. Fucking live ones at that. I was slowly starting to shit bricks.

We kept chanting, "Beer and karaoke", as if that mantra would keep us from harm. We saw a door looming up in front of us. Big Shoe flipped the sign hanging on the door and led us into a room. We continued chanting our mantra. But no one was listening to us. Another shoe trotted in holding a Sudarshana Chakra in her hand. “Bugger, we won’t be able to afford this. The room, the shoes and that damn chakra looks expensive”, whispered Wenerd. He immediately turned to Big Shoe and announced, “We want to piss. Show us the bathroom.” She glared us and led us across the room into a hallway and pointed towards the end. We spied an exit sign right opposite the bathrooms and we made directly for it. But exit it was not. We found ourselves in this maze of rooms with VIP signs. I saw one with VIP No 6 written on it. “Dey, 6 is my lucky number. Let’s go.” I cried. And we went…

To be continued…

Do someone you really love?

Best song lyrics of the month:

Girls who are boys
Who like boys to be girls
Who do boys like theyre girls
Who do girls like theyre boys
Always should be someone you really love

-Blur

Learning English in Smalltown, ndia

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon?

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon!

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon.

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?