Car Crashes

A bad night. A bad day. Another bad night. Another bad day.

After the first time, it’s not hard to see that more bad things followed. Obviously, experiences colour your mood and your mood colours your perceptions and reactions; the chain is justified.

I never saw myself the way saw myself yesterday.

A Saturday morning, I sat and worked on some left over work caused by Friday evening’s laziness. After all EoW is Saturday right! Spoke to some old school friends and decided to catch up with few. I read my book sitting beside the bright balcony in my room. I don’t remember when I moved my book and myself to my bed, and went to sleep. I woke up with a frown on my face. I guess bad things from the past few days must’ve done the rounds on my involuntary mind.

I woke up to a call when I was already half hour late. I picked up money from on top of the kitchen cabinet. I drove out. I had radio playing, my earphones tightly plugged.

I drove through my old home area, Banshankari. There were vehicles behind me, in front of me. Two wheelers especially… There were these specific two, which I had failed to notice had fart-heads sitting on them. They expected me to pay for driving a little too close to them while they landed in front of my car out-of-the-blue, taking a right turn from the wrong side of the divider. And this, I only found out later.

I ignored this as another close encounter, they happen too often anyway! I stopped at the signal that was at the end of the road. I had to turn left. I noticed one of the two bikes in front of me, and the other on my side. Upon green, the front guys went on ahead and the second bike turned left along with me. To my surprise, the first bike stopped, reversed and came my way.

This is where I knew I was in to face some road-ego. What I did not know was that the ego I was to face was not just theirs, but mine too. Two bikes in front of my car. A busy road, without a divider. Both of them rode in front of me at 10 kmph as if trying to cover the beam of my headlights on either side, if they were switched on. I wondered to myself if this was done purposely or were they genuinely lost. I honked and tried to overtake, fearing the vehicles from the other side. But I was almost shocked to notice that these guys had decided to go out of their way, if they had a destination at all, to trouble my drive. I overtook them once, just when they let me have an inch of space and there was a break in the vehicle flow on my right. My ears started to feel hot and I could feel a red flush on my face even though I never looked in the mirror. I knew they were going to get me again. They did, sooner than I thought. This time when I overtook them with great difficulty, I just ended up surrendering to my own road-ego. ‘What the fuck is you’re bloody problem?’ my hands raised in a high decibel question.

I soon took a right turn and hoped I’d lose them. While I reached the junction where I had to make another turn, my gut told me I’m going to find them again. They won’t let go so easily. I began to prepare myself for a reaction, but before I knew it I saw them waiting for me at the stop ahead, the side of their bike facing me.

My anger mixed with my ego and my pretence of machismo, my right foot hit the accelerator, I moved at 50, my course changed, off the main street and rammed straight into their bike. Thud! I could hear the sound of my car bumper hitting their calf muscles and the wheel of the bike. They fell on their sides. The first bike, reversed and they screamed and collected a crowd.

I was scared. I did not know what hit me. I was quite sure of what I had driven myself and the car into, although I was not sure why and whether it was right or not. I know my blood was gushing through my legs at a speed I’ve never known. It slowly turned to shiver when this ugly guy walked towards my car and before I could finish screaming my standard ‘What the fuck is your problem, you know whose fault this was’ his hand was inside my car, tugging at the car key. I was petrified. These were four ugly guys. I’d just handed them, gift wrapped, a beautiful reason to get me to pay in much bigger ways than with money.

I snatched the key chain over his hand. It was difficult to keep the key in my hand as he broke the chain and as I pulled the metal scratched my palm deep. I happened to glance down at the floor mat to check what had fallen. The sight I caught was of my leg, not shivering not numb, but vibrating almost bouncing with fear. My leg’s movement resembled a pedal in action. It moved up and down. I could not stop it. I’d never seen myself fall so weak. This probably is the scariest sight I have ever seen. It makes it even worse because at that very moment when I saw my legs shaking, I knew this sight would remind me of my fear for years to come. You know how you have these defining moments that you learn from or just remember for some reason, this sight was one of those.

I looked back up and saw there were a hundred faces all around my car. ‘horgade barey lei, kalage iliye…’ the asshole yelled ordering me to get down. I grasped the key tight and pulled at it one last time to make his hand leave it. ‘kai bido, kai bido firstu’ I screeched with as much authority I could jam into that line, ordering him to let go.

He let go. I could not take the pressure anymore because of the number of vehicles that had stopped on the road could not be taken lightly. Rolling up my window, I gestured to people around to move out of the way coz the bus drivers behind were almost getting pissed off. I moved the car to the side and got out. I could hardly stand or keep my mouth straight. I spoke, with an unintended squeak ‘yelli ouru? Yelli hodru?...’ while I looked around for the fuckers who caused this. 'ouru hotodru ma…’ The useless yet large crowd responded. The guys had left the scene. Very silently. Just absconded.

I was so damn surprised, shocked, scared, humiliated, worried, guilty and angry. I turned around to confirm nothing had happened to the car bumper as I was sure no damage was done. I had carefully bumped into the cheapos.

My legs still not steady, I looked at my bleeding palm. I pressed my hands together in hope to soothe the burning pain. I decided to go to the police and drove to the nearby police station.

Hoping to see them again, I drove slowly staring into every biker’s face. I dint find them. Some part of me hoped that I would not see them again, whereas the angry part of me just wanted to find them and run over them this time. It is a funny feeling when your fear mixes with anger; you never know what you might end up doing. You become unpredictable to yourself. I still was deciding whether I should tell my dad or not. I was still deciding whether to meet my friend or not. I took a u-turn communicating with my eyes with every vehicle around to let me pass. I tried the sorry look to gain permission from all of them. It worked, maybe coz I really did not have to fake the expression. In a way I was terribly shaken, literally.

From this experience, I would want to put down few things that you guys need to be prepared with when you end up in situations like these, most importantly, alone.

1. Right in the start when things begin to smell fishy, make a mental note of the vehicle numbers and things you can identify the people with, just in case
2. When things start to get bad, don’t try to encourage the anger, try taking a detour as early as you can
3. If you do end up finding the problem coming back again and again, try driving straight into the police station, they’ll have to follow you there or scoot
4. If you see things going out of hand, before having a dialogue, first make sure you roll up windows, check and make sure all doors are locked and your wallet / license are inside the dashboard
5. If all fails, and you do end up hitting them and the guy has come over to politely snatch your car keys from the ignition and you have left your window down, roll it up while his hand is inside the car and try jamming/ hurting his hand
6. He still doesn’t budge, just raise your accelerator to scare him off
7. Once you’re safe inside your car, talk and negotiate inside the car
8. If at all, you are sure you have not done any wrong, try and convince him that you wont speak until you both are in the police station
9. In the meanwhile, call someone up who stays nearby or you can get help from , in terms of money or influence over the police circle, you’ll surely know people, just recollect their names
10. If you do end up in the police station alone without anyone else, make sure while you file an FIR take a slip that acknowledges the complaint.
11. Do not forget to tip the guy some money [100 – 500] depending upon how serious the situation is. This motivated them to help you and details like your name/ address will be safe with them
12. Do not cry [girls] and try and not talk while you’re panting and shivering, take some rest before you begin explaining, its better that way
13. Always know that even the assholes on the road are scared

This surely has been the longest post on this blog. One that really has relevance to people who read my shit. But, hey maybe with this I wanna thank you guys for reading, so here you go… something you can use! and be safe.

What if God was one of us

It seems like a mystery thing to me. I have seen things which I feel only I have seen. These visions, that are mine and my own only. I feel no one else has seen them or even would be able to comprehend it's true. I dont know why. Feels like God shows them to me only so I could acknowledge how well he understands me. It's happened too many times to believe this is not ture. He exists and He seems to like me.

A front seat in a bus, swift and steady at 100, 2:30 am, from Sirsi to Bangalore. The AC has frozen my hands on my torso. The folds of my kurta impressioning cold lines on the bottom part of my hands, where hair never grows. My feet are white and I try to adjust myself by pressing myself against the window. The curtain moves and I am beckoned to split the cloth, to reveal this world. A world I never knew. Moonlight as bright as I ve never seen it. Touching every part of that vast land where small objects spotted the expanse with a mysterious white shine. Every little bush was visible. Sides of trees looked like reflections of silver barks with leaves of glass. All of it was right in front of me. I did not have to squint a bit. This vision made me freeze my eyes, the cold air from the overhead duct was nothing. I was paralysed with a sort of surprise. My hands slipped off from the cloth I clutched separating it away from the edge of the windwow. Broken away fromt that vision, I lifted the cloth hurriedly to peek again, out of the window, this time with a bit of expectation and fear. The scene had changed. It was like how you land up at the theatre on the last day of the show just to stare at the housefull board. The light was as dull as a normal day with default moonshine. The objects near the bus were feebly visible when I did squint my eyes. I lay there, before I fell asleep again, wondering what God must be like.

At the door of a train, swift and steady and noisy, 5:50 am, Jaipur to Bombay. Just feeling relieved after avoiding getting down from my favourite middle berth and then finally surrendering to the weak bladder. Im walking back to my cozy sleeping place, glancing over the view from the half open door of the drowsy coach. There it was. Another painting from God's gallery. I think He loves the blue-grey combination. The train was on a bridge like track, over a river. The clouds so fluffy and grey, touching the horizon so softly, like mom tenderly would pat cotton on my wound, trying as much not to make me realise she's anywhere near it. The water was so serene and still and calm, that the cold wind over its crystal surface became visible in smooth curves of grey. The river looked so close to me. I could easily believe the train was moving only inches above the surface. There were abandoned boats on either side of the river banks. Dark in colour, in fact i wonder if they even had a specific colour or was it wet wood that looked black to my unbelieving eyes. Every object above the surface was duplicated on it. I could see every cloud in its reflection, so vivid. I observed clouds chasing the horizons and I remember there was slight breeze blowing which even reached me, and i took it in. It felt fresh, like i was drinking water. Slowly the beautiful painting crawled away into the clouds and mist while the train moved ahead. It was like a painting on wheels. I just stood there, like i was waking up from an unconscious state. My body told me to walk back to my berth and lie down. So i did. I lay there, before I fell asleep again, wondering what God must be like.

Visions of Paradise

Great Gig in the Sky

and as I stopped
we were moving at the speed of one twenty
the air that I called my breath
was taken away
Every puff of cloud was different
were of different origins
had one father
water
And as I fixed my gaze
I saw the whites separating ways
to allow darker greys
more in number were the ivory creams
there was no sky
the night was chasing
and i waited for the heavens to open
my eyes were, already
i looked harder
and i searched my way through the frills of vapour
and i saw it
peeping at me
turquoise
as beautiful as the word itself
the day gone by climbed back to me
the sky from yesterday
smiled at me

Use your Illusions 2

An overdose of anything can be harmful.

I was on my way from Bombay (as I like to refer to it) to Bangalore (ditto) by train. I had just spent two whole weeks in Bombay making fun of my friends who thought traveling in second class non ac train coaches was almost inhuman to ask for. Some girl was even startled at the thought of going to sleep in the train! How can someone spend twenty fuckin three years of their life in the sub-urbs of Bombay city and not know what a sleeper class train bogie looks like from the inside? Turn on the all American Discovery Channel please, for God’s sakes. Ian Wright can probably sketch an Indian train coach with pencil.

It’s another story why I wished that I had not chosen to travel this way, this time. But they say, if an experience doesn’t kill you, it only leaves you stronger.

In the end, all I remember is reaching out to this water bottle which had more water condensing on its outside than it had inside. I gulped down all the ‘mineral’ water there was. Completely. When I looked up the sun was still there, beating down with I don’t know what vengeance. I knew I had seen it before.

3:45 PM.
I was somewhere in the bordering areas of Maharashtra and Karnataka. When I turned around and looked for that filthy monster, he was gone. I stopped to breathe. Somehow I do not remember too much about this part.

3:35 PM.
I tumbled and fell over. My legs were outcast; they were not allowed to get my own blood. All I could feel was fear. I wanted to just run faster. Was he chasing me still?

3:30 PM.
‘Are Maneaters real? Am I going to die here? Where am I? Will mom miss me?’

3:15 PM.
I looked down. I gauged it to be about 7 feet. I looked back and my reflexes froze. Petrifying! I could not even scream for a second. But my senses came back in a sudden rush and I jumped. I jumped off the upside down train. I did.

3:14 PM.
THE most disgusting sight for MANKIND. I saw it. I was there. It was in front of me... charging at me, like it had a mind and eyes. ‘A Monster’ my head said… it was a cloak of hay and algae, if I remember correct, that walked and ran… and was going to gobble me up and I would be lost in all that muck. My head rushed. My head spun. My eyes lost control.

3:00 PM.
‘Are these people dead?’

2:55 PM.
My neck had a catch. I strained myself into a standing position although I wasn’t convinced I was upright because I had my legs caught under the rusty old fan. I saw people just lying everywhere. The ceiling was below me. The sky was still above me. I lost track of reality.

2:30 PM.
Terible Jolt. Shook the whole train. Rearranged my anatomy I thought.
Can’t remember more.

2:00 PM. I was trying my best not to fall asleep. When I looked up the sun was still there, beating down with I don’t know what vengeance. The pessimist in me said drowsiness is unpardonable. I could feel my head slip down the seat every five minutes, as I dozed off. It was hard to stay awake in that heat and monotonous drone of steel wheel sounds and far away chatter and pure boredom.

4:00 PM.
The first thing I saw was this dirty fan grunting its way to a stop because of some power supply problem. This was probably the reason I awoke so suddenly. After that, all I remember is reaching out to this water bottle which had more water condensing on its outside than it had inside. I gulped down all the ‘mineral’ water there was. Completely.

4:15 PM.
Dumbfounded. Paralysed. I just sat there, looking at everyone around me. I stared at each one there. They stared back in variations of emotions – quizzical, surprise, mockery and disgust.

They were wondering why. I was wondering how.

How would they ever understand – how happy I was to see the train upright and running. I was two hours closer home, and had survived a monster.

I glared straight into the sun until it went down, shying away with guilt for playing such a prank on me.

Lost for words

You know how you have a dream and then all you can do is think about it… and think about chasing it. You start day dreaming about the dream coming true… it is the best stage of anything that happens in ones life. The chase. The chasing of the most amazing dream. All things look so different when they are a dream. They are so beautiful. So far away. It’s a dream. A dream is a dream is a dream. It’s almost an occupation. Chasing it, doing whatever it takes to get there.

Then comes a time when you know it’s near and it gives you an adrenalin rush and things appear to be moving so fast and it almost feels like you are in a race to reach somewhere… this has happened to me more than once so I know this is the exact way things happen. Sometimes it feels like you’re flying out of your own body and watching yourself race ahead. And that smile is so un-wipe-able. You’d have no clue where you’re headed but it’s this race that you know you’re enjoying.

When you can see the end of this, there are butterflies in your stomach. You try hard to not let that smile turn into a scream. The kill. There it is… and your hand rises up in joy of this illusionary victory that only you can understand and you stretch your legs and jump. And thud. Your feet planted on the ground, sometimes they hurt. And that’s it. That’s the kill. And that’s the end. All that exciting chase is over. Phew. You breathe as you and the one that played ‘you’ in the race become one again.

It’s all fun and I am content. But it’s the after thought that gets me to write shit like this. I have no words for the things God works out. Why the hell do the dreams look so glamorous? Especially when they’re far. Although you’re so passionate for every single task that getting there might need. But when it comes and lands in your hands, why doesn’t it look as beautiful? Does it take time for it to settle down? By then the achievement might hold only little meaning. It’s a play of time. I have no clue what happens. Or why.

Sometimes you unknowingly look for contrasting emotions within to realize how happy or sad you might or should be.

I was enjoying the most awaited rock concert of my life; I have no clue how happy I should have been feeling because this had never happened to me before. Getting to the concert, standing in the cold under the sunset waiting for the start. And then, it begins, and the whole place seems to be vibrating with one sound. I almost felt like the aliens might just come down to Earth because of the strange dreamlike power the loud music in the open space has with which moves people from inside the head. But when I was watching the concert I just stood there waiting for it to sweep me off my feet. Waiting for it to be just like my dream, my imagination. At some point, my imagination and reality did meet. I recognize those few moments distinctly by the kind of movement my head was doing; my eyes shut tight, just like my mouth would have been if I had to speak then. I would not have had words to express. None would suffice.

In two slow hours, something I’ve waited for so long was over. Something that I had dreamed of, had imagined in my dark room was over. And what was I supposed to feel then. Happy or sad. Sometimes it is all so confusing. Considering all that passion, I did know that, technically, I needed to be feeling happy. So I sub-concsiously picked this one emotion to dwell on. The one that I knew is exactly opposite of what I think I should have been feeling. This only woke me up and made me believe that I was, in reality and most certainly feeling Happy. And that I had gone for the Kill, finally. And that I am to put it behind me now. The moment had passed. The chase was over.


I want to, I choose to live in the dreams. In the future. Coz nothing is worth it when it comes your way. Trust me…

Shine on You Crazy Diamond

I can only hear the sound of the guitar playing smooth in the background of nothingness. and a pinch of sax transitions in... and the smoke that I just swallowed, only as I try and hold on to it because I want to remain in the emptiness, leaves me. I only want to live in this music. In this moment. The song doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just the sound of it. The groove that it carves only for me to comfortably sink in… I give in. The voice doesn’t mean a thing. It’s the sound of it. The pace, it makes me the docile follower… My cigarette moves to my lips and back by my side and it is almost mechanical. Am I even thinking as I write this… I am in doubt. Maybe I am just falling… and will continue to fall until I find a place to rest. Blankness is the ultimate feeling… time has no value. What was he thinking when he created it? What is it about this piece of sound. Is it as basic as just that… because it consumes me completely… my eyes don’t matter because I don’t see nothing anyway… maybe it is what he says… shine… I want to shine… like a diamond… like a crazy diamond… the taste of that cigarette only wakes me up to write on… I start watching the smoke taking free shape as it becomes one with space… its going nowhere… but I follow it… and as the song plays on… plays on my blank mind… it hypnotises me into a worse state of emptiness… and when I feel my fingers burn… with all the obstinate urge to foolishly follow rooted in me… I reach for another cigarette and push the play button one more time… I see the candle on my table dying out… the sound commands a crossfire in my mind to find meaning in nothing at all… and I’m looped in this deception song… it should never end… I beg for it rule my senses… foreve... be my escape... [cough]

Over the Hills and Far Away

This world can be divided into two kinds of people; Ones who live in this world and the ones who live. Both have lives. And have a choice of wanting to victimize their time to routines.

Don’t you think that life now is driven by what’s not today. Normal life is driven by what’s not there. City life is driven by what’s never going to be. People on the other side don’t understand these statements, and will never be able to.

It’s them I want to talk about here; the ones who live. Simply live. No matter what or where. That’s where I want to be. Nonetheless, I presume that I am almost there by admitting that I am not there yet.

My life is filled with everything that I could ever want to be exposed to. This and that and that and this as well. Only, it’s so much that I can’t do enough in one lifetime to fill all of that into one plate. Irony sets in when I begin to complain of monotony in life. I have so much happening in my life, I find that setting things right takes too much of my time. Sorting out problems. Planning of a hundred things that I can do tomorrow.

Exhaustion! Imagine getting tired of living life. That’s the only thing I came here, on this planet, to do!

It only brings a smile to my face when I think of what I would want to do to cut the monotony off. I want to do what Chris and Robert do in the book I’m reading right now. Now that according to me is living life. Just take your motorcycle and pick out a route on the map that leads from nowhere to nowhere and follow just that. Actually in this case follow or not will mean the same thing.

The long winding roads. Sunset and sunrises like never before. Warm air carrying the dry smell of mud and old trees. Lonely sounds of the motor as I make no change in the pace I ride at, finding no need think. Discovering undiscovered roads leading nowhere and riding off. Chasing horizons until I tire and submit to a reality that I chose to momentarily forget. Stopping at monotonous long stretches of empty, uninhabited lands and staring, this time with a purpose, a paradox…

I take a deep breath, feeling almost like I am consuming every particle of nature around me and begin to look... I search in these unending insipid spaces, something to spice my life up moving at the speed of a million decisions a minute.

Bulls on Parade

I have seen and lived in several cities over the 20 years of my life. And even now I travel. But since I live in Bangalore and mostly use the roads of this city I am going to ask my questions to my fellow Bangalore-road-users.

I dont exactly have questions to ask but I just wonder... I have been in Bangalore since 2002. The traffic here, all will agree, has been increasing by the minute. I have seen Bangalore in its earlier days as well, when I was a child and would come here only to watch cable TV in my Grandparents house, eat roasted corn in Lalbagh, visit the very hip and popular MG Road (I'm talking about those days when Urvashi used to play English movies) and wait for a goodbye gift from my uncle which almost always turned out to be a Barbie. When I started college in Bangalore it never surprised me when I noticed only few in my class actually belonged to Bangalore. In the sense, I never imagined the fact that I only had out-of-station friends can become a worry to the city as a whole. Now when I look back I realise.

The influx of so-called immigrants into Bangalore is only getting amplified. Ask anyone they'd point it towards the year 2000 that marked the IT boom that Bangalore was the epicentre for. And if you trace this back to the present day situation, you have the answers for the maddening traffic that makes you spend FOUR hours on the road everyday.

Let alone the fact that I inherited bad skin, but its just getting worse each day as I travel on these roads with so much pollution. Forget this, its not like I dreamt of becoming Miss India or something, what about the tension you undergo. It can have serious implications when one rides or drives in Bangalore... Blood pressure and tempers. One has to really be so careful because no matter what, there will be at least 10 vehicles in an hour you will see who are travelling on the wrong side of the road. Either they dont remember what's left and what's right or they just do not care, as is the case with most of the drivers in this city. I have my friends who just returned from a small UK stint and they tell me that in those roads one always lets the other pass first. This got me thinking and I just threw a question at myself, why doesnt this happen here??? But now that I have the answer I started writing this post today.

Here it is: The answer to why people drive rash, don't care about rules, cannot in their wildest dreams think of letting the other pass first and cannot have their emission checks done, and cannot drive on the right side of the road... It is simply because, today in Bangalore 9 out of 10 cars are driven by non-owners, but by paid drivers.

These vehicles include cars for personal use, rented cars, company pick-up vehicles, call taxis etc. The paid drivers do not really care at all about what happens to the car or to other people on the road, that because they are not driving, they are just doing their job for which they get paid. This is why they do not have common road manners. Autorickshaws and buses are the worst when it comes to even acknowledging the fact that other vehicles exist. This is say 70 percent of the vehicular population, the rest is still large in number. The reason they end up driving rash or acquiring behaviour or driving attitude identical to that of paid drivers is because of frustration. People lose control after the first 5 mins of driving because there are just too many people breaking rules. People tend to give up and go with the flow. In fact, at a signal most of the vehicles leave when its 20 secs to Green. And if you wanna be Mr. Goody-two-shoes and wait until the signal actually turns green, you would either be run over by buses behind, which are always in a hurry [wonder how they still manage to be late] or your ear drums would be torn apart by jarring honks from all the vehicles behind.

I have not really thought too much about an answer to this problem. This is because at the rate I am going I think I will end up hiring a driver for my two-wheeler as well, and add to the number of non-owners on the road. Seriously speaking, not much can be done about the paid driver community, but surely things can be done to stop all the breaking of rules. Trust me if I were the traffic police, I would haul up each vehicle which has smoke coming out of its exhaust and cofiscate it. The vehicle would not be returned unless he shows a valid emission test result or gets it done under police supervision.

It gotta stop. There needs to be line drawn to how much we can do this to the environment. It only disgusts me to even think about how people cannot be least bothered when there is jet black smoke that is coming out of the exhaust.

I dont get it, what are companies like Tata, Toyota and so many others doing? They sit every year to only come up with a better model of a petrol car. Which again is mostly an improvised version of a previous one. How long does a country need to take to understand that petrol cars are not the answer for a country which has a population, pollution, infrastructure and oil crisis. Countries that dont even have these issues are adopting electric vehicles as their mode of transport, whats India's problem. Its mostly the mindset, people here still believe that the bigger your car is, the bigger your penis is and the happier your life is.

I dont believe the Reva, the first indegenous Indian electric vehicle company, was laughed at. I mean, you'll see people passing wierd comments about how it looks as it passes by smoothly, without one bit of exhaust or noise. Why would any intelligent person do that? I respect people who have come up with its design, though I do agree that it could be a little better looking, but who cares? This is a start and it needs to be encouraged.

The problem is in a place like Bangalore most of the people who own cars belong to companies that pay for their petrol charges. This makes people believe it is alright to be spending so much on transport. So they do not really see a point in buying an electric vehicle just to save money. But non-petrol cars are beneficial in so many more ways.

India has a me-too attitude most of the times. When the whole world will take to electric vehicles, Indians will just about start doing the research trying to understand what it exactly is. And then the first company that succeeds in copying the designs and concept will proudly announce, actually successfully impressing us Indian consumers, that they are bringing to us the technology the world is popularly using. And then you'll have people deciding to buy it. Why? Because the whole world uses it... like DUH! By then I'm sure, the world would be moving even further, and we'll just be starting to realise.

Trust me, the next time you begin to think your sun-screen company needs to be sued, Sorry think again, its someone else who you need to be waking up.

Blues from an Airplane

Put the good news first, sandwich the bad news between good news in the end again.

This was taught in our very popular Toastmasters club. And I internalised that this is the best way to throw something negative at someone when you dont wanna handle a panic-stricken scene.

You've been on an airplane right? Doesn't it scare you when they do their "dono taraf chaar exit hain aur doh emergency exit hai. Pani mein utarne par, tairne ke liye blah blah ka prayog karen..." bull shit... It scares the living daylights out of me everytime the plane takes off. The first time I flew in a plane I remember ducking down during landing. Luckily I had my best friend sitting next to me to calm me down. Of course, he cant be there all the time. I am just not fine until I land and get out [completely out - on terra-firma] of the plane. You know what they should do... First, they should stop making movies like Final Destination or Executive Decision. And please turn off that mushy cry-y music for God's sake. Someone, please buy them a Robert Miles CD or something. And do NOT give me that seat on the wing - Pleasssseee.

And finally, and most importantly, why cant they talk about how many hours the pilot has flown and how experienced he is and how much he loves flying the plane and that he will get us to the destination safely... No... Not one mention. Their responsibility ends with telling us to save ourselves with some wierd floatation-device-under-the-chair. They need Toastmasters.

Phew!

It's another thing when the view from the top gets so beath-taking that you do tend to forget the bad things that could happen [God forbid]. Those clouds, so white, fluffy and large, make me wonder where they are headed. The sky looks so blue; makes me wonder which version of Adobe Photoshop God must be using! And that reminds me I can take some pictures, so I find my batteries , fix it up and click some.

What song's playing on my mind? 'I just called to say i love you' 'Another day in paradise' words' [Fault: you-know-whose] Are you kidding me??? No, I do NOT want to be thinking of these songs now. Now is not the time. I can almost see a whole state that I'm flying over and the beautiful clouds, beckoning me to just jump onto them. Will there be little people there to catch me when I fall? Will I reach another world? The view just triggers your imagination and leaves you wishing you could be part of a fairy tale, so that you could watch yourself have all the fun one day.

What songs I strain hard to remember? 'Wish you were here' 'Knockin on Heaven's door' ...They never come.

Stairway to Heaven

Yes there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on.

Three days ago I asked one of my good friends whether he has ever been to music concerts. He said he hadnt because he dint have company that was good enough. I then ask him flirtily [if there's a word like that] which concert he would want to go to and with whom. Returning the favour, and very obviously he wanted to go with me. But here's the best part: He wanted to go to Woodstock 1969 with me.

This was 3 days back and i havent stopped thinking about Woodstock since.
Rohan, I wish we could really go back in time. But Thanks for this imaginary journey and a natural high you've set me upon.

I know i may be sounding really narrow minded when i say the era 'rocked' coz its not only the musicians that existed on the face of the earth during 1960s. But, the decade was 'happenin' in the true sense. That's when Woodstock was conceptualised and actualised, to begin with. Neil Amstrong did what he did, in the 1960s. The hippie culture, which was a religion of its own. Who cared about anything but giving free love. It was all about communicating. Connecting. How the whole nation's youth came together to protest against innocent soldiers dying at Vietnam for no good reason.

Sometimes I wonder if it is the place or the time that affect people, events, thoughts, innovations. I ve never got a 100% answer. Its always a composite force; place, time and the history of the place play their roles.

Look i have not done any kind of research on what happened in India or any other part of the world during the 60s. So dont call me a nation traitor or some wierdo who is obssessed with everything 'phoren'. But, frankly Rock n Roll was the best gift to the world from the early UK and US bands. It can get you high. Really. And im not talking about the drugs and all the other taboos associated with this period, coz dont think thats cool anyway. But the music is all i care about.

Surekha, i wanna give you a big hug and a kiss for introducing me to this world of music. Especially, Led Zeppelin. I never understood how much music can affect someone. You made me realise. Thanks Pa for making Surekha inseparable from your collection of Rock n Roll. This feels amazing.

Coming back to Woodstock 1969... you just have to read this to know what went into creating a landmark in time. This is written by Elliot Tiber, a member of the organising team of this Mega event. http://www.woodstock69.com/wsrprnt1.htm. Make sure you're truly interested in reading this before you click this link (it's long and its 19, 000 words). Else pls just make do with my little blog. Thanks.

I have not worked even for a second without my earphones on, for the past 3 days. And trust me Live versions of the songs can make you go mad. It can get you to hallucinate. It can be any song you like. I have stuck with Stairway to Heaven (Live) for the past 24 hours. (thats 8*3) I have heard this song over and over again and cannot stop closing my eyes and nodding to the beats every single time. I hate my phone ringing now. [so if you've heard me say 'i have work, i'll call u back', sorry i was lying] Even when I go home, dinner is plain disturbance, when I sit down with my guitar. I have been fantasising a time machine that can take me back in time just to experience this hallmark of an event...

I only wonder what goes into making songs that sweep people off their feet, whacks them off their minds for decades and decades after. There's one thing i realy like about what they say about woodstock:

Thousands left the Woodstock event with a totally different outlook on life; and through it all, the Music flowed.

500,000 young citizens were virtually left on their own and discovered the words Sharing, Helping, Consideration, and Respect to be very powerful. It was 3 whole days of continuous music. It was eating and spending time in a misrocosmic society, all under the morning sky and the stars. Who would not want to have been there.

Altamont speedway, the Mick Jagger sponsored event, was another big one, but just a wannabe-woodstock sort of an event. He made some wrong choices [fine i wont laugh]. In anycase, I wish i could see something like this happen in my lifetime.

For those who are reading this and have never had the passion for music... I dont think you've ever heard music in your life. Coz its not about what kind of music it is, but how you look at it and let your mind absorb every note. That's when you'll see how it becomes like a drug. An addictive urge. And you'll have a different outlook on life.

And as for us sisters and brothers of the music crazy fraternity, Lets keep the music flowing.

ps: While I was reading this Rockumentary, all I could think of was about making a movie on 'how woodstock happened'. If anyone of you has some similar ideas, lets just get together and get rockin... Im very serious... I wanna film the-making and the concert itself - wonder who all will play!!!

The Rain Song

There's heat. There's anger. There's expectation. There's emotion. There's hatred. And you're in the middle. Don't deny there isn't music playing in the background; in your acoustic brain. Every moment of my life, i can associate with a song. Yesterday, I planned to say something to him so that it could evoke a response i had dreamed of. [strings. already.] I say it exactly how i had heard it in my rehearsals. [applause.] And i wait. Its not that the reaction does not match with my plan, but there isnt one at all. [off tune. shit. jazz is it?] I cannot figure even one remote reason how it could turn out that way. which is always the case. [warning sign.] Im ok. Im comfortable. I have been here before. Many many times. I turn around, slyly change the imaginary script. [there's always a back up.] I know i have to head home in the rain. Not feeling good about anything. [yesterday.] [stop.] I need to start my bike. And turn down that tear that has threatened to swell up. I put my head up and take off. [turn the page.] I feel strong. The rain's beating down. I thought it would be harder than this. I feel drops of fresh May rain trickle down my face in an orderly style; that's my rhythm. My video. My spar. Just all mine. Still going strong. Stronger now.

And suddenly, the rhythm breaks. [%*@#!] Did that drop break the rules? What was it? [The scientist.] [Rush of blood to the Head.] I cannot handle it. I did not plan this either. No... that alien droplet could not have been a tear. It should not have been. [Amsterdam.] I cannot stop it now. That's nine minutes already. Its still not gone. I want metallica back in my head. Its an order. Now. [Stuck in the moment.] The rhythm is a forgotten thing. The song is like radio; I am not listening. I am straining to keep my eyes open. There's water everywhere. Its freezing. There's rain on my helmet. There's rain on my spectacles. There's an ocean pouring out of me; my eyes. This was wrong. Wasnt it? I was taught to be strong. But, i thought about it now. I do not have to be strong, so strong all the time. Its ok to give in sometimes. What the heck? [Najaanay kyon.] I am drenched. I'm soaked. I'm cold. But, did i care at all? I was loving it so much. I did not even remember why i was singing these songs. [with arms wide open.] But they never fail to save the day for me. My shiver now was my rhythm. Boy, you should feel this to know heaven. [coming back to life.]

fade to end...

Ima get get get get you down

Just Push Play

So yesterday it rained after 200 days of scorching heat (told u i like to exaggerate) and that's what got me thinking. I had to create this blog before my head burst with so many teeny-weeny things throbbing my grey cells for attention, which im too lazy to give. And I'm so relieved now that i have created this Blog. I mean now freaks like me, who think too much, can read what i feel. And listen, dont blame me if i've written down what u were thinking yday, im not going to feel guilty for being the quicker one... will write my first actual story tonight. So come back here...