Monday, April 23, 2007

Audioslave - Exploder lyrics

If you’re free you’ll never see the walls
If you’re head is clear you’ll never freefall
If you’re right you never fear the wrong
If you’re head is high you never fear at all

Easier said than done

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Bhayankar Erratas

Mahatma Gandhi once said something to the tune of "Freedom counts for nothing if you don't have the freedom to make mistakes" (I wish I could quote such quotes verbatim but I always end up using terms like 'something to the tune of' ). It's good that he said something of that sort because it allows me to use it as an excuse for playing down all or at least most of my fauxs pas (or whatever the correct term is). So yesterday, a dull football match got me thinking about a lot of instances that I would like to go back in time and change the approach or action that I opted for then. Thanks to my dwindling attention span and ebbing long-term memory, I could come up with really few instances which I'm going to talk about here. Names will be withheld here for diplomacy issues in some places and in others, only because it will be a little too easy to know who I'm talking about.

- The game was lost and we had barely seven more minutes till the final whistle could relieve us of our misery. He hobbled up to me and bleakly asked me if he could sit out the last few minutes because his ankle was swelling up badly. He was not one to ask out with little bruises and wounds. I knew that yet I failed to realise the intensity of this injury. And I asked him to carry on and see out those last seven minutes. For a lost cause. Astonishingly, he silently turned and went back to what he was out on the field for. He could have argued. He could have made the decision for himself because he was the skipper and not I. But he just went back and saw out those seven horribly painful minutes. Maybe because it was in his nature to fight with no regard for pain. Maybe because he had been let down by the one person he deemed capable enough of making the right call. I'll probably never know. But thanks to my decision, he missed the next match which of course, we lost so that this incident could be left as an indelible mark in my memory. He did watch us play the last match from the sidelines. If I can claim to know him at all, watching our defeat that day from the sidelines would have hurt him as much as, if not more than, his bandaged ankle.
- The same game. Trailing 0-2 with very few intrusions from us into their box, a loose ball fell close to my feet. With two opposition defenders on either side of me, my mind raced for a decision. I could take the shot with not the best chance of seeing it cross the goal-line because I was well outside their box. Or I could take a touch which could let me get away from the sandwiching defenders so that I could follow it up with a shot with some 5 yards lesser to cover. I opted for the former and saw the ball loop safely into the keeper's hands. It didn't take me more than an instant to know I had opted for the wrong option. That one goal could have changed the face of the game. I had blown my team's best chance to regain hope and to make it worse, it all went only downwards from there.
- Friday night. A lounge. 80's pop sounds getting people to sway in their seats, a little conscious of being the first ones on the floor. She passed a slightly intoxicated (note, different from intoxicating) look at me and put it into innocent words, "Will you dance with me?". Slightly stunned, paranoid of implications and remote complications, and defintely aware of my lack of dancing skills, I mouthed a stupid excuse to back out. The disappointment on her face was momentary but it hit me hard. I could have let faith override paranoia and intoxication override missing skills. I could have made a different decision instead of the seemingly indifferent one. I lost out on a warm smile.
- Over the phone, which was how we had spent much of our time together, I kept things straight and let her know how things would be henceforth. I wasn't surprised when she broke into tears then. But then the weeping went on for a few minutes. No questions asked of me, no words spoken. Just her soft cry in my ears. I should have said something comforting. I could have just held on to the phone in the hope that she could at least find some support in my silence which was pretty much the only thing I could now spare for her. Instead, I chose to hang up thinking she needed time alone like I did. And in that action, I forced upon her my therapy for grieving with no thought for hers. I didn't think much then at the age of 16.

Damn, this has gone long. And as I scroll downward, I realise my weblog has slowly become more of a criblog. I gotta get Dave Barry to ghost-write stuff for me here.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007


Hello darling
Do you hear me calling
Rising and falling

An untimely death
Abrupt last breath
The demise of faith

It's what seems best
Selfish vested interest
In all earnest
The nice guy is now laid to rest

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Forthcoming Attraction

Another Saturday night, another party.
Who's complaining? :)

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Letting Go

Where, I ask, is the trust
It is all, he opines, just ashes and dust
Where, I ask, is the faith
Look over your shoulder, he sayeth
Where, I ask, is the hope
In darkness, he warns, you must fruitlessly grope
When, I ask, will you learn
Not, he replies, ere you crash and burn
How, I ask, do you justify your lies so lame
We're all, he snaps back, playing the same game

Nought more have I to ask
For I still stand by my truth
In his ill-gotten pity he can bask
With his dreams of fighting nail and tooth
As before, I wish him godspeed
As he walks down his own line
Hoping, one day he'll be freed
To find his peace and with it, mine

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Looking Ahead

Long weekend, here I come...

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Poor Start

I was out for some fresh morning air
Lady on a cycle dropped her bag on the middle of the road
The kindness and compassion inside of me (never knew they existed) arose
A clanging sound as I picked up the bag to hand it over to the lady
Turned back to see a tiffin box with its contents strewn all over the road
Out of breath and out of words, a silent apology escaped me
The remains of an erstwhile lunch were handed back to the lady
The smile did not get wiped off her face
"How can I thank you?", she asked.
Sarcasm, I wondered. But the smile stayed and seemed genuine
"At least your intentions were noble", the smile dimmed but was still put up bravely
Lunch box rendered empty, she set off bearing only my apologies
I set off in the other direction with a thought or two
For the lady who would have to forego the comforts of a packed lunch from home
Wallowing in the remorse, I continued to walk homeward as another possibility fell on my ears
"Perhaps her kid will go hungry at school today"
I walked away faster

Monday, April 02, 2007

The Wonder Weekend

This weekend sped by. Friday night started with a visit to The Den - a lounge which has its interiors designed to look like a hunting lodge. Good place, decent booze, good food and good music. Anyways, had good company so no question of having a bad time.

Saturday was spent lazily until I got home and decided to clean up my act and the house too in the process. So my only non-Mumbai roomie and I got into action and a few hours later, we were resting our bones in much, much cleaner surroundings with no dust bunnies left to inhale. Note the 'few hours later'. Cleaning up is the only time I despise living in such a big house. Anyways, evening was spent with TJ and Shachi over to watch Liverpool whack Arsenal and as they lazed around later (they'd spent their day at work... afsos), ManU satisfied me with a resurgent victory over Blackburn (Woohoo!!). TJ wanted to watch 300 and I think, he must be the only guy left in Pune yet to watch it. My thoughts were only reaffirmed by the House Full board which left us with our backup option. Movies on the laptop at TJ's pad. Sat nite was spent watching Apocalypto (quite impressive) and the Illusionist (didn't do much to keep us awake).

But the cherry-on-top here was finding some 15-odd episodes of The Wonder Years on the laptop. The Wonder Years!! One of the first TV shows I was addicted to. And since they don't even beam the reruns of the reruns of that show anymore, it's been eons since I last saw the musings and muses of Kevin Arnold. Those were some good days when I used to watch the show after school everyday on the then new channel called 'Star Plus'. Over the years, the episodes were almost rote, yet the reruns watched as eagerly. It was a show all kids could relate to. Almost everyone had a geeky Paul Pfeiffer-like friend or a Wayne-like irritating sibling. But each and every one of us boys had (or at least dreamt of due to lack thereof) a Winnie Cooper. The innocence of it all was too good to be true. Wondering how to hold each others' hands away from the glare of the others in the building, cribbing about each others' days at school in the evenings, sharing wada pavs and icecreams. Life was a lot simpler then but of course, there was no way we could have known how tough being grownup is. Life was a TV show back then...

Sunday passed by lazily with the help of six back-to-back episodes of the Wonder Years first thing upon waking up. Things picked up in the evening and a combination of a bike ride, cold coffee @ Durga, dvd of Babel and some vodka for the movie's intensity to set in turned out to be heaven.

To sum it all up, a Wonder Weekend.

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