Its almost dusk and my eyes wanders on in the evergreen wilderness looking for nothing in particular. I absently run my fingers down my almost bare scalp with one hand and hold on to the metallic cold of the balcony railings with the other as I watch the evening sky illuminated by the last embers of the brilliant red sun progressively devoured by the ample horizon. In the background, Kurt Cobain croons about a love gone wrong. Like sour milk whose unpleasant taste lingers on your tongue long after it has been spit out. Like the residues of human emotion that might have cunningly managed to find a secret crevice in the soul to hide in and surrender itself only when copious amounts of alcohol has flooded your heart completely and forced them out of their hiding place.
And as random and abstract thoughts manifest themselves in my mind, I realize that I have grown tired of a lot of things. I am tired of long drawn out semesters. I am tired of the demanding exams, the bland lifestyle and the mundane routine. I am tired to being confined by chains of obligation and duty to everyone and everything around me. My misplaced sense of generosity coupled with the quest for a secure future has led me to give up everything that defines the very essence of life. I am tired.
Clichéd as it may sound, I just want my life back. I want the boring drone of continual routine to go away to be replaced forever by the voice of Ronnie James Dio. Man ! Listening to his voice gets me high and I haven’t felt that sort of high for quite sometime. I sometimes wonder if I could just summon up the courage to leave everything and go traveling. And every time out of the sometime, a voice in my head tells me to do the sensible thing. That is why the voice of reason is like a nagging wife. And Alcohol is divorce.
And there I was three hours later, deep into my divorce with reason when everything came together in one very clear moment. And it was this moment of clarity where it all played out in front of me and in my state of gross intoxication I understood that all I wanted at this point of time was to go on a journey. The Rum was strong but the desire stronger still. I don’t want my life to go as it was supposed to go. In some ways I wanted to be the like the young Ernesto Guevara who kept his graduation on hold, to traverse along the length of South America on his La Poderosa. I want to have that courage and that belief to go all the way through with it. I want to script my own Motorcycle Diaries and I don’t want my life to come to a point when i have just about run out of emotions and desperate to feel something, anything that i keep falling into someone and fucking our way to the end of days. I dont know what happened to the grand plans which consisted of phrases like 'wind in my hair' ,'adrenalin rush' and 'nomadic life'. I guess they are dead and buried deep under the colossal weight of everyday life. Like it never existed.
Maybe its just the Rum talking. Maybe its the voices in my head. Maybe its Kurt Cobain.
Maybe another drink will make it clear.
"Bhaiyya, Glass Refill Karo."
.
Tuesday 8 June 2010
Tuesday 1 June 2010
The Creaky Staircase
BEFORE IT BEGAN
My name is Rohit Saha. I am 18 years old, with no clear idea of my future, or indeed much of anything else. After 2 idle and slightly bookish years in a modern and well developed part of suberbian Bombay, I had developed an aversion to the world of careers and jobs which, I was destined to join. As I left my carefree high school days behind me, a plethora of endless questions stared me in the face .Each one more unsettling than the other.
My high school days were not the greatest. Particularly due to the fact that it overflowed with bespectacled nerds and unlike what the insane number of mediocre, predictable and mind numbing chick flicks would tell you, it’s the ‘Cool’ people who were among the minority. I personally found it to be a strange strange place. The liberty given in the same place a year ago was cruelly snatched away and probably remained chained in some dusty old dungeon for the whole of the two years that we were there. I always hoped that it would do an ‘Edmond Dantes’ but that never happened. The playful chatter of the corridor was replaced forever by an eerie stillness broken only by the dull grumbling drone of overworked students. They told us that it was time to get serious and do something with your life. I never listened. My delusions had me convinced that life always unfolds like a Tarantino movie, chapter by chapter and at the end when everything goes to shit, things miraculously fall into place. I would later realize that life is not as primitive as seen through the eyes of an overindulgent, pop culture obsessed and twisted American filmmaker .Far from it actually.
My personal expectations of high school had been of freedom, merriment and living life on the edge. Clichéd as they may seem, it seemed a natural progression into the forbidden world which I had been long since denied entry by means of an impassive voice in my head telling me that ‘ you are not old enough, wait till you are in high school.’ After you enter high school , the impassive voice continued to haunt me but the words had changed to ‘Time to build a future.’.
Maybe these well meaning voices did not resonate too loudly in my head as it did with most others but not unlike millions of other slightly better than average Indian students, who go out through revolving door of uncertainty each year, I was unknowingly dragged into the mindless rat race of Engineering Entrance Exams . It was one of those things my febrile mind was always unable to comprehend .All around me people were one by one giving up everything that made living worthwhile, for a BTech degree on their future resumes, which would apparently pull their families out of their relatively meaningless lives of middle class obscurity and have their future mother-in-laws and her bitchy gossip mongering mates in bouts of multiple orgasms. The whole dynamic mechanism of thinking made me really curious but I guess all ‘their’ curiousity was duly exercised in seemingly pointless things which had something to do with stuff like Schrödinger’s Equation and Planck’s constant. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that , those days in my class, a Second Order Differential Equation could give more guys a hard-on than Pamela Anderson bouncing along the beach in her customary red swimsuit.
As far as Engineering was concerned, I couldn’t give two shits.
My life as an eighteen year old did not revolve around Study Time Tables, Early morning revision, or making furious mechanical notes in classrooms to the extent that a sneeze from the Teacher would duly be jotted down as ‘Acchoo’ in those well manicured notebooks. Life back then was all about being the quintessential teenager. It was about doing things your own way. It was about being different and standing out from the crowd. It was about being your own master. It was about showing the finger to anyone who disagreed to that. It was about wearing ripped jeans, having outrageous hair and getting at people’s faces. It was about wanting to smoke pot and quoting Bob Dylan’s lyrics in every other sentence. It was about talking like Jules Winnfield and dancing like John Travolta. It was about playing Children of Bodom in full volume and watching the neighbours freak out. It was about thinking that the sun shined out of your arsehole and how every creature in this planet were the functions of a single variable called ‘my whims and fancies’.
Then all of a sudden you grow up and all the little myths that your naïve and deluded teenage mind had created vanish faster than blow in a Kurt Cobain concert. This growing up, is also called ‘point of realization’ in several cultures and this symbolic rock hit me with the force of a fusion bomb knocking me unconscious into the grimy and slippery world of repentance and all I could tell myself was , “Fuck ! I should have started studying a couple of months ago.” It was January, and the immense course of ISC was staring at me like a Spider stares at its entangled prey, though my Biology teacher would love to point out that the above expression is not entirely correct on the account of Spiders having ‘compound’ eyes hence its viewing power is limited only to looking at mosaics and then using its highly evil brain to figure out the rest. But that again is a totally different matter.
So there I was, a month from the Board exams, blissfully clueless of everything. One day later, I was quite literally shitting bricks. I did not think it was humanely possible to finish the course of an academic year in a month. The impossibility of it all reminded me of the plot in Tom Cruise’s highly mediocre and mind numbing popcorn flick which had become a raging success all over the world. All that the fucker had to do aside from looking pretty, was to kill these highly dangerous evil agents and in the process, save the world. I had a harder task at hand. It was called Organic Chemistry.
A man in his life sometimes encounters certain things which seemingly possess a curious power of making his balls shrivel up and die. Obviously this much fabled ‘thing’ depends on a lot of variables ranging from his age to his mental state of mind and this generally changes from person to person. I believe that in Organic Chemistry, I had met my maker. Already a couple of months behind schedule, the various permutation and combinations of bonded carbon and hydrogen had well and truly made me their bitch. Add a bit of nitrogen to all that and you have the human brain going tits up and human heart wanting nothing but sweet release.
I now began to look upto all these people who I had secretly laughed at for so long. I laughed at them for spending the best years of their life amidst books. I had laughed at them for not knowing what it was to get high to Jim Morrison’s voice. I sneered at their bad luck for not having chanced upon the intoxicating combination of Vodka and Pink Floyd. I pitied them for not having the balls to experience the wonderful tricks that Marijuana could play with the nervous system. I grinned to myself as I spotted their school pants pulled up almost to their nipples and wondered if these dudes would one day go on to make it big and then buy out some big fashion house and then proceed to finance a whole new geekosexual ‘low chest’ revolution.
A Great Bengali Philosopher had once spoken of the equal proportions of laughter and tears in life. The Buddhists essentially say the same thing but have renamed it ‘Karma’. Whatever it was, it was behaving like an epic bitch with me. It now became clear to as why the geeks never retaliated. Oppressed for centuries it would seem rather odd that they have not yet given up their pens and taken up pick-axes. I was always of the belief that the Apocalypse that they spoke of, was nothing but the time when the normal population would suander past the elastic limit of the geek community, causing a great power struggle and finally resulting in a epic Mordor-like battle leading to the end of the world as we know it.
Two weeks later as I sat wriggling in my seat, writing the paper in the hot sultry afternoon air, my condition worsened with every passing question and I was no longer able to dodge the volley of never ending bullets shooting out from the Chemistry exam paper. I now started to realize why the geeks would never retaliate. I now began to understand as to why my half baked theory of Apocalypse was nothing but an epic failure. It was in these unsuspecting places like examination halls that they have their revenge. As I stumbled out, physically injured and mentally mortified at the cruel torture that was so remorselessly bestowed upon me, I doubted if I would last the night.
I hit the bed, closed my eyes and the last sounds that resonated in my ears were slow and measured chanting in my head.
“His name was Robert Paulson.”
My name is Rohit Saha. I am 18 years old, with no clear idea of my future, or indeed much of anything else. After 2 idle and slightly bookish years in a modern and well developed part of suberbian Bombay, I had developed an aversion to the world of careers and jobs which, I was destined to join. As I left my carefree high school days behind me, a plethora of endless questions stared me in the face .Each one more unsettling than the other.
My high school days were not the greatest. Particularly due to the fact that it overflowed with bespectacled nerds and unlike what the insane number of mediocre, predictable and mind numbing chick flicks would tell you, it’s the ‘Cool’ people who were among the minority. I personally found it to be a strange strange place. The liberty given in the same place a year ago was cruelly snatched away and probably remained chained in some dusty old dungeon for the whole of the two years that we were there. I always hoped that it would do an ‘Edmond Dantes’ but that never happened. The playful chatter of the corridor was replaced forever by an eerie stillness broken only by the dull grumbling drone of overworked students. They told us that it was time to get serious and do something with your life. I never listened. My delusions had me convinced that life always unfolds like a Tarantino movie, chapter by chapter and at the end when everything goes to shit, things miraculously fall into place. I would later realize that life is not as primitive as seen through the eyes of an overindulgent, pop culture obsessed and twisted American filmmaker .Far from it actually.
My personal expectations of high school had been of freedom, merriment and living life on the edge. Clichéd as they may seem, it seemed a natural progression into the forbidden world which I had been long since denied entry by means of an impassive voice in my head telling me that ‘ you are not old enough, wait till you are in high school.’ After you enter high school , the impassive voice continued to haunt me but the words had changed to ‘Time to build a future.’.
Maybe these well meaning voices did not resonate too loudly in my head as it did with most others but not unlike millions of other slightly better than average Indian students, who go out through revolving door of uncertainty each year, I was unknowingly dragged into the mindless rat race of Engineering Entrance Exams . It was one of those things my febrile mind was always unable to comprehend .All around me people were one by one giving up everything that made living worthwhile, for a BTech degree on their future resumes, which would apparently pull their families out of their relatively meaningless lives of middle class obscurity and have their future mother-in-laws and her bitchy gossip mongering mates in bouts of multiple orgasms. The whole dynamic mechanism of thinking made me really curious but I guess all ‘their’ curiousity was duly exercised in seemingly pointless things which had something to do with stuff like Schrödinger’s Equation and Planck’s constant. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that , those days in my class, a Second Order Differential Equation could give more guys a hard-on than Pamela Anderson bouncing along the beach in her customary red swimsuit.
As far as Engineering was concerned, I couldn’t give two shits.
My life as an eighteen year old did not revolve around Study Time Tables, Early morning revision, or making furious mechanical notes in classrooms to the extent that a sneeze from the Teacher would duly be jotted down as ‘Acchoo’ in those well manicured notebooks. Life back then was all about being the quintessential teenager. It was about doing things your own way. It was about being different and standing out from the crowd. It was about being your own master. It was about showing the finger to anyone who disagreed to that. It was about wearing ripped jeans, having outrageous hair and getting at people’s faces. It was about wanting to smoke pot and quoting Bob Dylan’s lyrics in every other sentence. It was about talking like Jules Winnfield and dancing like John Travolta. It was about playing Children of Bodom in full volume and watching the neighbours freak out. It was about thinking that the sun shined out of your arsehole and how every creature in this planet were the functions of a single variable called ‘my whims and fancies’.
Then all of a sudden you grow up and all the little myths that your naïve and deluded teenage mind had created vanish faster than blow in a Kurt Cobain concert. This growing up, is also called ‘point of realization’ in several cultures and this symbolic rock hit me with the force of a fusion bomb knocking me unconscious into the grimy and slippery world of repentance and all I could tell myself was , “Fuck ! I should have started studying a couple of months ago.” It was January, and the immense course of ISC was staring at me like a Spider stares at its entangled prey, though my Biology teacher would love to point out that the above expression is not entirely correct on the account of Spiders having ‘compound’ eyes hence its viewing power is limited only to looking at mosaics and then using its highly evil brain to figure out the rest. But that again is a totally different matter.
So there I was, a month from the Board exams, blissfully clueless of everything. One day later, I was quite literally shitting bricks. I did not think it was humanely possible to finish the course of an academic year in a month. The impossibility of it all reminded me of the plot in Tom Cruise’s highly mediocre and mind numbing popcorn flick which had become a raging success all over the world. All that the fucker had to do aside from looking pretty, was to kill these highly dangerous evil agents and in the process, save the world. I had a harder task at hand. It was called Organic Chemistry.
A man in his life sometimes encounters certain things which seemingly possess a curious power of making his balls shrivel up and die. Obviously this much fabled ‘thing’ depends on a lot of variables ranging from his age to his mental state of mind and this generally changes from person to person. I believe that in Organic Chemistry, I had met my maker. Already a couple of months behind schedule, the various permutation and combinations of bonded carbon and hydrogen had well and truly made me their bitch. Add a bit of nitrogen to all that and you have the human brain going tits up and human heart wanting nothing but sweet release.
I now began to look upto all these people who I had secretly laughed at for so long. I laughed at them for spending the best years of their life amidst books. I had laughed at them for not knowing what it was to get high to Jim Morrison’s voice. I sneered at their bad luck for not having chanced upon the intoxicating combination of Vodka and Pink Floyd. I pitied them for not having the balls to experience the wonderful tricks that Marijuana could play with the nervous system. I grinned to myself as I spotted their school pants pulled up almost to their nipples and wondered if these dudes would one day go on to make it big and then buy out some big fashion house and then proceed to finance a whole new geekosexual ‘low chest’ revolution.
A Great Bengali Philosopher had once spoken of the equal proportions of laughter and tears in life. The Buddhists essentially say the same thing but have renamed it ‘Karma’. Whatever it was, it was behaving like an epic bitch with me. It now became clear to as why the geeks never retaliated. Oppressed for centuries it would seem rather odd that they have not yet given up their pens and taken up pick-axes. I was always of the belief that the Apocalypse that they spoke of, was nothing but the time when the normal population would suander past the elastic limit of the geek community, causing a great power struggle and finally resulting in a epic Mordor-like battle leading to the end of the world as we know it.
Two weeks later as I sat wriggling in my seat, writing the paper in the hot sultry afternoon air, my condition worsened with every passing question and I was no longer able to dodge the volley of never ending bullets shooting out from the Chemistry exam paper. I now started to realize why the geeks would never retaliate. I now began to understand as to why my half baked theory of Apocalypse was nothing but an epic failure. It was in these unsuspecting places like examination halls that they have their revenge. As I stumbled out, physically injured and mentally mortified at the cruel torture that was so remorselessly bestowed upon me, I doubted if I would last the night.
I hit the bed, closed my eyes and the last sounds that resonated in my ears were slow and measured chanting in my head.
“His name was Robert Paulson.”
Sunday 11 April 2010
Current Affairs
Okay, i am not much of a current affairs guy.I do not enjoy writing about them and I have figured that there are enough morons in blogsphere to do that anyway. Most of them are stupid, droll and take themselves too seriously. They go on and on about some self righteous issue based garbage that no one reads except like minded thickos . They are football's equivalent to Liverpool. As much fun as watching shit dry on a stick.
Over the past week or so, the rags and the idiot box have been incessantly informing the world that an exceedingly dumb cricketer and an exceedingly busty tennis player from neighbouring 'enemy' countries are getting married. I called the man 'dumb' because he wanted to get married to some random chick in a photograph and that too at the ripe old age of 21. Dude, seriously ? 1950s got over a long time ago. Times have changed. Most people of the generation who believed that they were marrying a human being solely on the base of photographic evidence have long since left for their heavenly abode.
Anyway, After the initial announcement was made, the skeletons in the closet had something of a huge drinking session in broad daylight. Accusation and counter accusations flew around like a Tennis ball in a Wimbledon final of Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi and it all culminated with the 'Ex' (who weighs approximately 2 Tonnes) grabbing the bowler by his balls and with a grip so strong that it had the former Pakistan Skipper squealing like a little girl. The Tennis player with her ample bosom, fake accent and ever-growing love handles could only watch as her man conceded advantage and match point to who can best be described as the Queen Latifah of celebrity scandals. As Rio Ferdinand would say, He well and truly got Merk'd"
The press had a field day and maybe it was kinda fun to follow the whole case in the newspapers but In the words of a man much more 'awesome' than me,
"It was toilet bound paper."
P.S- Marry me Fatima Bhutto!
.
Over the past week or so, the rags and the idiot box have been incessantly informing the world that an exceedingly dumb cricketer and an exceedingly busty tennis player from neighbouring 'enemy' countries are getting married. I called the man 'dumb' because he wanted to get married to some random chick in a photograph and that too at the ripe old age of 21. Dude, seriously ? 1950s got over a long time ago. Times have changed. Most people of the generation who believed that they were marrying a human being solely on the base of photographic evidence have long since left for their heavenly abode.
Anyway, After the initial announcement was made, the skeletons in the closet had something of a huge drinking session in broad daylight. Accusation and counter accusations flew around like a Tennis ball in a Wimbledon final of Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi and it all culminated with the 'Ex' (who weighs approximately 2 Tonnes) grabbing the bowler by his balls and with a grip so strong that it had the former Pakistan Skipper squealing like a little girl. The Tennis player with her ample bosom, fake accent and ever-growing love handles could only watch as her man conceded advantage and match point to who can best be described as the Queen Latifah of celebrity scandals. As Rio Ferdinand would say, He well and truly got Merk'd"
The press had a field day and maybe it was kinda fun to follow the whole case in the newspapers but In the words of a man much more 'awesome' than me,
"It was toilet bound paper."
P.S- Marry me Fatima Bhutto!
.
Tuesday 9 March 2010
Things You Will Never Say When You Are Drunk
1. No thanks, I'm already seeing someone.
2. Nope, no more alcohol for me.
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. I am a horrible horrible singer.
5. We can't have sex now because i forgot the condoms at home.
6. Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee on the road.
7. Sir, I'm not looking to pick a fight with you.
8. When it comes to women, i have standards.
9. You drive. I am drunk.
10. I must be getting home now, I have college tomorrow.
.
2. Nope, no more alcohol for me.
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. I am a horrible horrible singer.
5. We can't have sex now because i forgot the condoms at home.
6. Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee on the road.
7. Sir, I'm not looking to pick a fight with you.
8. When it comes to women, i have standards.
9. You drive. I am drunk.
10. I must be getting home now, I have college tomorrow.
.
Sunday 28 February 2010
Just My Thoughts.
I have recently found myself in company with loads of free time. Aside from gawking at hot females on the street and solving intergalactic space crime, life has been pretty uneventful. I have hence retreated back to the shadowy unknown where i chanced upon the scantily clad Cohen sisters dancing around the eight armed Albino Goddess. They sensed my eyes all over their gyrating bodies and invited me over by means of a slow and periodic curling motion of their index fingers. I was startled and offered to show them my book collection and thats when the cruel laughter began. Everything started to dissolve and I woke up drenched in my own sweat.
Its a great day. Sunny and everything. Birds are happy and doing it furiously against the A/C. I am sure you are here for your customary pearls of wisdom and with great difficulty i resist the temptation of free early morning feather porn , and talk to about you issues that are currently going on in this head of mine.
- I have just discovered that i am a bit shite at posing for photographs .Can never get the balance right between cheesy grin and comical expression of faked astonishment. End up looking borderline retarded and it happens every fucking time.
- I think Porn gives us men lots of unrealistic expectations. For starters you cannot be ugly as pig shit and have women as hot as that sleep with you in every position imaginable ! I really had no idea knew that a Pizza delivery uniform can evoke that much feminine passion. Also, women have to lower their expectations and come around to the fact that not every naked man has dragon tattoos on his back and an organ the size of Chile.
- The Earth is millions of years old and it seems rather silly to celebrate one year. Bit like having a countdown every time i go to for a piss. And making resolutions is just plain retarded. "I will get a girlfriend, i will get laid , i will get a job and i will cut my nails regularly." Fuck off ! You are the same person and nothing has changed except a digit on the date. If you were incompetent, lazy, fat, stupid or ugly, chances are that the changing digit on the date wont change any of that. Either get a brain or a personality transplant or simply quit it.
- People who continuously and compulsively apologize for trivial mistakes piss me off. You are sorry , he gets it. For God's sake you spilled a glass of water, not fucked his mother.
- If I were gay, I would ask out Al Pacino. If i were gay and retarded, i would cheat on Cheryl Tweedy.
Its a great day. Sunny and everything. Birds are happy and doing it furiously against the A/C. I am sure you are here for your customary pearls of wisdom and with great difficulty i resist the temptation of free early morning feather porn , and talk to about you issues that are currently going on in this head of mine.
- I have just discovered that i am a bit shite at posing for photographs .Can never get the balance right between cheesy grin and comical expression of faked astonishment. End up looking borderline retarded and it happens every fucking time.
- I think Porn gives us men lots of unrealistic expectations. For starters you cannot be ugly as pig shit and have women as hot as that sleep with you in every position imaginable ! I really had no idea knew that a Pizza delivery uniform can evoke that much feminine passion. Also, women have to lower their expectations and come around to the fact that not every naked man has dragon tattoos on his back and an organ the size of Chile.
- The Earth is millions of years old and it seems rather silly to celebrate one year. Bit like having a countdown every time i go to for a piss. And making resolutions is just plain retarded. "I will get a girlfriend, i will get laid , i will get a job and i will cut my nails regularly." Fuck off ! You are the same person and nothing has changed except a digit on the date. If you were incompetent, lazy, fat, stupid or ugly, chances are that the changing digit on the date wont change any of that. Either get a brain or a personality transplant or simply quit it.
- People who continuously and compulsively apologize for trivial mistakes piss me off. You are sorry , he gets it. For God's sake you spilled a glass of water, not fucked his mother.
- If I were gay, I would ask out Al Pacino. If i were gay and retarded, i would cheat on Cheryl Tweedy.
Thursday 11 February 2010
Coming Out Of The Closet
'Geek' is not a word people would generally associate me with. I am highly certain if people i went to high school with, were questioned , they would probably raise their eyebrows, give you an incredulous look and between loud snorts of derision, tell you that you are a 'fucking idiot' and point out to you the error of your ways . Most would prefer remembering me by adjectives like 'rebel' or 'wierdo' but a few lowlives who still bear a misplaced sense of animosity would label me with various uncomplimentary names like a 'Hairy Assbandit'. I kindly request you to ignore them and push them off a mountain cliff. Or better, Set their Irodov textbooks on fire. That would anyways have them jumping off the cliffs voluntarily, Hee hee .
So after much thought and much less action, i have decided to let this be the day that i come out of the closet . I am tempted to deliver a Bill Pullman's Independence Day like speech but i shall refrain for the sake of your sanity and in an attempt to banish your growing sense of disbelief, i shall list to you, things that you barely know about me thus establishing without a shadow of doubt, the extreme levels of geekosterone in my being.
- I read the first 4 Harry Potter books, like 20 times each. I used to steal broomsticks from the house and take them to a secret place. I would then sit on one of them , constantly kicking the ground like an stupid retard . Mom was confused when she saw ' Firebolt' engraved in one of the brooms.
- Wanted to enact the part of 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in some shitty play in class, when a female ( now a very good friend) looked at me with disdain and said , "Excuse me ? But wasnt Tom Riddle supposed to be good looking ?" ( Still hurts btw)
- Used to trade Pokemon cards with like minded people and i remember telling people off from stealing other people's cards because its not a good thing to do morally and how cards were exactly like Pokemon and you cannot engineer a healty level of mutual trust, admiration and love with stolen cards. Apparently.
- Once, my anger caused me to curse one of my fellow classmates. I lost control as i picked up my pen, shouting at the top of my lungs " You will pay for this, you bastard." and then pointed the pen at his chest and cried, ' Petrificus Totalus'. Nothing happened and i felt like an idiot . Cried myself to sleep that night because this incident had well and try proved that i was nothing but a fucking Muggle.
- I once weighed myself before and after taking a dump. The only conclusion i came to was that i needed an instrument with a much lesser 'least count'.
- Whenever alone, used to borrow the leg of some broken chair, strutting around like Gandalf the Grey complete with his staff . Scared the shit out of my brother once , when i duplicated the epic ' You shall not pass ! ' with the leg of a wooden chair.
- Thought i was as cool as Samuel L Jackson, when i scratched out the ' DO NOT' in the 'Please Do Not Scratch, Scribble Or By Any Other Means, Spoil The Lift.' Got caught the next day trying to add some finishing touches to my 'work' and my dad had to pay the fine.
- Half created a Marauder's map of Singhania and spent more than a month searching for a Chamber Of Secrets in the school. Went to every basin in the school and made hissing noises. People thought i was retarded.
- Wanted to do a Gollum and address my first love letter as ' My Preciousssss.' Thought better of it. Fortunately.
- Choke Slammed a very good friend ( who was an bellend back then) on the teacher's table because he described 'Chris Jericho's entry music as 'tripe'. " Take that you prick !" I remember screaming after i slammed the poor motherfucker, "And you dont say shit about Jericho. Like Ever !"
- Some snake obsessed black magic practising classmate made voodoos of me ( No kidding) because i had apparently pissed him off in some way . One day, i felt his highly evil gaze on me and my stomach started paining real bad. I was convinced that i was completely under his 'spell' and so i tore a paper and wrote my will, donating my books to the charity and making my brother the rightful heir to my epic collection of Pokemon Cards, Tazos and Video games . The pain increased with every passing moment till i got home and took a dump.
My brother was not best pleased.
- I once celebrated scoring a decent goal by doing a Jack Sparrow impersonation of 'Where is all the Rum gone ?' . My team mates asked me if i was on my period.
- Threatened to actually skin a person alive and eat his liver with pineapple jam, when he mentioned something along the lines of Samwise Gamgee and Frodo harbouring sexual feelings for each other.
- Duplicated Ruud Van Nistelrooy's hairdo but couldnt score a penalty to save my life . Duplicated David Beckham's hairdo and couldnt score, no matter how 'Loos' the girls were. Duplicated Jimi Hendrix and got called a rapist.
- Once saw a used condom fallen on the ground and I thought it was a balloon. I was going to blow it up before one of my friends told me exactly what it was used for and the places the rubbery fucker may have visted.
- The first time I was contemplating asking a girl out, I was the confident Marlon Brando in front of the guy friends telling them stuff like ' I shall make her an offer she cannnot refuse' and other similar things. But when it was time to walk the walk,
Rohit- Hi
Girl - Hey Rohit, you wanted to see me ?
Rohit - Er yeah.
Girl - Yeah, what happened ?
Rohit - I was just wondering...
Girl - Yeah..
Rohit - Well, i was just..
Girl - Yeah..
Rohit - Er, i was..
Girl - * Beautiful Smile*
Rohit - What toothpaste you use ?
Girl - Huh ?
Rohit - Yeah, er ! Toothpaste ?
Girl - Er Pepsodent , why ?
Rohit - No, nothing. That was exactly what i was wondering.
Girl - Huh ?
Rohit - Never mind. I was just kinda curious.
Girl - Huh ? Why ?
Rohit - Its er..nothing, really. I am doing like a er...a survey.
Girl - Erm okay. * Fucking wierdo*
That night, Rohit Saha slept with the fishes.
- Was a Self Appointed Sex councillor back in std 6th. Explained to a guy (Code name - Dixcy) that you cannot get pregnant by kissing. To which he said, "Arre Baba , i heard that some glands in the mouth produce semen as well and if this semen gets transferred from my mouth to hers and through her entire digestive tract and into her ovaries , phir to waat hai na ? ". I narrowed my eyes, put a hand on my chin and with a sombre expression said. " Man ! That is something i have never thought about."
- Have seen Fight Club so many times that i rattled out Tyler Durden's entire 'Middle Children Of History' speech, sloshed.
There are many such incidents but i cannot remember them all. So, i think its time to conclude the in depth 'Cribbs' like tour of my closet. The shower of skeletons falling from all directions just goes to show that behind the visage of a Rebellious Metalhead, lies a true Geek . I dont let him come out too often, for this world is not a safe place for him. He will stay locked up in the closet and bide his time. One day, the Earth will become a better place , and he will be free to go.
Blah, i am getting sentimental now, so signing off seems the only logical thing to do . Cheers.
P. S - Watch Francis Ford Copolla's Vietnam War Epic 'Apocalypse Now' whilst stoned. Takes it to a whole new level. :-D
So after much thought and much less action, i have decided to let this be the day that i come out of the closet . I am tempted to deliver a Bill Pullman's Independence Day like speech but i shall refrain for the sake of your sanity and in an attempt to banish your growing sense of disbelief, i shall list to you, things that you barely know about me thus establishing without a shadow of doubt, the extreme levels of geekosterone in my being.
- I read the first 4 Harry Potter books, like 20 times each. I used to steal broomsticks from the house and take them to a secret place. I would then sit on one of them , constantly kicking the ground like an stupid retard . Mom was confused when she saw ' Firebolt' engraved in one of the brooms.
- Wanted to enact the part of 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in some shitty play in class, when a female ( now a very good friend) looked at me with disdain and said , "Excuse me ? But wasnt Tom Riddle supposed to be good looking ?" ( Still hurts btw)
- Used to trade Pokemon cards with like minded people and i remember telling people off from stealing other people's cards because its not a good thing to do morally and how cards were exactly like Pokemon and you cannot engineer a healty level of mutual trust, admiration and love with stolen cards. Apparently.
- Once, my anger caused me to curse one of my fellow classmates. I lost control as i picked up my pen, shouting at the top of my lungs " You will pay for this, you bastard." and then pointed the pen at his chest and cried, ' Petrificus Totalus'. Nothing happened and i felt like an idiot . Cried myself to sleep that night because this incident had well and try proved that i was nothing but a fucking Muggle.
- I once weighed myself before and after taking a dump. The only conclusion i came to was that i needed an instrument with a much lesser 'least count'.
- Whenever alone, used to borrow the leg of some broken chair, strutting around like Gandalf the Grey complete with his staff . Scared the shit out of my brother once , when i duplicated the epic ' You shall not pass ! ' with the leg of a wooden chair.
- Thought i was as cool as Samuel L Jackson, when i scratched out the ' DO NOT' in the 'Please Do Not Scratch, Scribble Or By Any Other Means, Spoil The Lift.' Got caught the next day trying to add some finishing touches to my 'work' and my dad had to pay the fine.
- Half created a Marauder's map of Singhania and spent more than a month searching for a Chamber Of Secrets in the school. Went to every basin in the school and made hissing noises. People thought i was retarded.
- Wanted to do a Gollum and address my first love letter as ' My Preciousssss.' Thought better of it. Fortunately.
- Choke Slammed a very good friend ( who was an bellend back then) on the teacher's table because he described 'Chris Jericho's entry music as 'tripe'. " Take that you prick !" I remember screaming after i slammed the poor motherfucker, "And you dont say shit about Jericho. Like Ever !"
- Some snake obsessed black magic practising classmate made voodoos of me ( No kidding) because i had apparently pissed him off in some way . One day, i felt his highly evil gaze on me and my stomach started paining real bad. I was convinced that i was completely under his 'spell' and so i tore a paper and wrote my will, donating my books to the charity and making my brother the rightful heir to my epic collection of Pokemon Cards, Tazos and Video games . The pain increased with every passing moment till i got home and took a dump.
My brother was not best pleased.
- I once celebrated scoring a decent goal by doing a Jack Sparrow impersonation of 'Where is all the Rum gone ?' . My team mates asked me if i was on my period.
- Threatened to actually skin a person alive and eat his liver with pineapple jam, when he mentioned something along the lines of Samwise Gamgee and Frodo harbouring sexual feelings for each other.
- Duplicated Ruud Van Nistelrooy's hairdo but couldnt score a penalty to save my life . Duplicated David Beckham's hairdo and couldnt score, no matter how 'Loos' the girls were. Duplicated Jimi Hendrix and got called a rapist.
- Once saw a used condom fallen on the ground and I thought it was a balloon. I was going to blow it up before one of my friends told me exactly what it was used for and the places the rubbery fucker may have visted.
- The first time I was contemplating asking a girl out, I was the confident Marlon Brando in front of the guy friends telling them stuff like ' I shall make her an offer she cannnot refuse' and other similar things. But when it was time to walk the walk,
Rohit- Hi
Girl - Hey Rohit, you wanted to see me ?
Rohit - Er yeah.
Girl - Yeah, what happened ?
Rohit - I was just wondering...
Girl - Yeah..
Rohit - Well, i was just..
Girl - Yeah..
Rohit - Er, i was..
Girl - * Beautiful Smile*
Rohit - What toothpaste you use ?
Girl - Huh ?
Rohit - Yeah, er ! Toothpaste ?
Girl - Er Pepsodent , why ?
Rohit - No, nothing. That was exactly what i was wondering.
Girl - Huh ?
Rohit - Never mind. I was just kinda curious.
Girl - Huh ? Why ?
Rohit - Its er..nothing, really. I am doing like a er...a survey.
Girl - Erm okay. * Fucking wierdo*
That night, Rohit Saha slept with the fishes.
- Was a Self Appointed Sex councillor back in std 6th. Explained to a guy (Code name - Dixcy) that you cannot get pregnant by kissing. To which he said, "Arre Baba , i heard that some glands in the mouth produce semen as well and if this semen gets transferred from my mouth to hers and through her entire digestive tract and into her ovaries , phir to waat hai na ? ". I narrowed my eyes, put a hand on my chin and with a sombre expression said. " Man ! That is something i have never thought about."
- Have seen Fight Club so many times that i rattled out Tyler Durden's entire 'Middle Children Of History' speech, sloshed.
There are many such incidents but i cannot remember them all. So, i think its time to conclude the in depth 'Cribbs' like tour of my closet. The shower of skeletons falling from all directions just goes to show that behind the visage of a Rebellious Metalhead, lies a true Geek . I dont let him come out too often, for this world is not a safe place for him. He will stay locked up in the closet and bide his time. One day, the Earth will become a better place , and he will be free to go.
Blah, i am getting sentimental now, so signing off seems the only logical thing to do . Cheers.
P. S - Watch Francis Ford Copolla's Vietnam War Epic 'Apocalypse Now' whilst stoned. Takes it to a whole new level. :-D
Sunday 7 February 2010
Toilet Chronicles
We are in Goa, standing outside a car hiring station where I recall having this wierd conversation.
Elden - Dude, nature calls. Anyone want to come with me ?
Jaideep - To watch you pee ?
Elden - No, no. We can go ask the car guy if there is any place nearby.
Rohit - Where the fuck do you think we are ? Fucking Singapore ?
Saagar - Ha ha, place to pee for fuck's sake ! This is India, man. Unzip, Hold and Shoot.
Elden - Whatever happened to good old Hygiene ?!?
Rohit - I will go with you. I need to deballast myself. Lets ask this guy.
Elden - Dude, is there a toilet nearby ?
Car Dude - Yeah mate, go right ahead.
Rohit and Elden - Thanks man.
*Goes straight in*
Rohit - Man this place smells like Satan took an epic dump. And there is just one shitpot.
Elden - Dude, some perspective okay. A minute ago we were contemplating relieving ourselves on Bipasha Basu's poster, on the wall.
Rohit - Dude, She is the best thing to come out my motherland after Sushmita Sen and Egg Roll. I wouldnt pee on her poster even if they held me at gunpoint. Voluntarily atleast.
Elden - Okay okay. Give me some space man. I really need to go in.
Rohit - Okay. Remember the keywords. Latch and Flush.
*Elden goes in and closes the door while I wait outside*
Elden- Motherfucker ! This shit door wont latch. Just dont come inside !
Rohit - Oh absolutely ! Watching you pee wasnt really on my list of things to do before I die.
Elden - Dude, dont you love the feeling of relief after holding back for so long ?
Rohit - Er, be specific man. That sounded like one of those sweet nothings you tell a chick after sex.
Elden - I am talking about peeing, okay.
Rohit - Okay, whatever. Yeah, maybe.
Elden - Motherfucker !!!
Rohit - Now what ?
Elden - The fucking flush does not work.
Rohit - Motherfucker !!! Thats another thing i will have to strike out from the things to do before you die list. 'Pee on another man's pee.' Thats just fucking sweet.
Elden - Dude, i am done.
Rohit - This place fills me with as much confidence as recovering sexaholic Russell Brand telling poor, unsuspecting Katy Perry: "You’re the only one for me, luv"
* Elden comes out, I go in. I close the door, he waits for me outside while i go in*
Rohit - Fuuuuuckkkk. Ooooh, Aaaaah....... I have waited soo long for this.
Elden - Dude, please stop having an oral orgasm in there.
Rohit - Fuck off man ! Not every moan has to symbolize sexual liberation. Do yourself a favour and cut down the 'Naughty America' for a few days. Maybe then, you can distinguish a 'relief' moan from a 'BJ' moan.
Elden - Now, some perspective here. An All-Guys hostel and No Naughty America is like Metallica without Cliff Burton.
Rohit - True that. Metallica turned a bit shite after he died.Bless the great man's soul ! FYI , My Reynold's number now above 4000.
Elden - If i remember Juggy D's ramblings correctly in Fluid Mech class, you are clearly experiencing Turbulent Fluid Flow. Ha ha, they should put a miniature airhostess inside your tract. "Ladies and Gentlemen, fasten your seatbelts, we are expecting turbulence."
Ha ha ha Ha ha.
Rohit -You Sir, are a disgusting little motherfucker. But tell me, why on earth do you call him Juggy D ?
Elden - Well, if i had a name like Jagdeeshwaran, i would have sued my parents for every freaking penny they got.
Rohit - Not that you have a great name anyway. When i first heard your name i thought you were Elton and Gay.
Elden - I would rather be Gay, than have the name of the hairy protagonist in every second pseudo-homo bollywood flick .
Rohit - Whatever rocks your boat, man ! By the way, there is some graffiti written here above the flush. You read ?
Elden - I saw it but i dont really like to multitask.
Rohit - Its in Hindi, it says - "नन्हे मुन्ने बच्चे तेरे मुट्ठी में क्या है ? "
Elden - Ha ha ha ha.
Rohit - Some imagination to come up with that ! Jesus Christ !!
Elden - Dont take the Lord's name with the Weener in your hand.
Rohit - Sorry.
*I finish with my thing and go out*
Elden - This conversation never happened and no one needs to know.
Rohit - Seriously dude.
.
.
.
.
In seemingly happier times.
.
.
Elden - Dude, nature calls. Anyone want to come with me ?
Jaideep - To watch you pee ?
Elden - No, no. We can go ask the car guy if there is any place nearby.
Rohit - Where the fuck do you think we are ? Fucking Singapore ?
Saagar - Ha ha, place to pee for fuck's sake ! This is India, man. Unzip, Hold and Shoot.
Elden - Whatever happened to good old Hygiene ?!?
Rohit - I will go with you. I need to deballast myself. Lets ask this guy.
Elden - Dude, is there a toilet nearby ?
Car Dude - Yeah mate, go right ahead.
Rohit and Elden - Thanks man.
*Goes straight in*
Rohit - Man this place smells like Satan took an epic dump. And there is just one shitpot.
Elden - Dude, some perspective okay. A minute ago we were contemplating relieving ourselves on Bipasha Basu's poster, on the wall.
Rohit - Dude, She is the best thing to come out my motherland after Sushmita Sen and Egg Roll. I wouldnt pee on her poster even if they held me at gunpoint. Voluntarily atleast.
Elden - Okay okay. Give me some space man. I really need to go in.
Rohit - Okay. Remember the keywords. Latch and Flush.
*Elden goes in and closes the door while I wait outside*
Elden- Motherfucker ! This shit door wont latch. Just dont come inside !
Rohit - Oh absolutely ! Watching you pee wasnt really on my list of things to do before I die.
Elden - Dude, dont you love the feeling of relief after holding back for so long ?
Rohit - Er, be specific man. That sounded like one of those sweet nothings you tell a chick after sex.
Elden - I am talking about peeing, okay.
Rohit - Okay, whatever. Yeah, maybe.
Elden - Motherfucker !!!
Rohit - Now what ?
Elden - The fucking flush does not work.
Rohit - Motherfucker !!! Thats another thing i will have to strike out from the things to do before you die list. 'Pee on another man's pee.' Thats just fucking sweet.
Elden - Dude, i am done.
Rohit - This place fills me with as much confidence as recovering sexaholic Russell Brand telling poor, unsuspecting Katy Perry: "You’re the only one for me, luv"
* Elden comes out, I go in. I close the door, he waits for me outside while i go in*
Rohit - Fuuuuuckkkk. Ooooh, Aaaaah....... I have waited soo long for this.
Elden - Dude, please stop having an oral orgasm in there.
Rohit - Fuck off man ! Not every moan has to symbolize sexual liberation. Do yourself a favour and cut down the 'Naughty America' for a few days. Maybe then, you can distinguish a 'relief' moan from a 'BJ' moan.
Elden - Now, some perspective here. An All-Guys hostel and No Naughty America is like Metallica without Cliff Burton.
Rohit - True that. Metallica turned a bit shite after he died.Bless the great man's soul ! FYI , My Reynold's number now above 4000.
Elden - If i remember Juggy D's ramblings correctly in Fluid Mech class, you are clearly experiencing Turbulent Fluid Flow. Ha ha, they should put a miniature airhostess inside your tract. "Ladies and Gentlemen, fasten your seatbelts, we are expecting turbulence."
Ha ha ha Ha ha.
Rohit -You Sir, are a disgusting little motherfucker. But tell me, why on earth do you call him Juggy D ?
Elden - Well, if i had a name like Jagdeeshwaran, i would have sued my parents for every freaking penny they got.
Rohit - Not that you have a great name anyway. When i first heard your name i thought you were Elton and Gay.
Elden - I would rather be Gay, than have the name of the hairy protagonist in every second pseudo-homo bollywood flick .
Rohit - Whatever rocks your boat, man ! By the way, there is some graffiti written here above the flush. You read ?
Elden - I saw it but i dont really like to multitask.
Rohit - Its in Hindi, it says - "नन्हे मुन्ने बच्चे तेरे मुट्ठी में क्या है ? "
Elden - Ha ha ha ha.
Rohit - Some imagination to come up with that ! Jesus Christ !!
Elden - Dont take the Lord's name with the Weener in your hand.
Rohit - Sorry.
*I finish with my thing and go out*
Elden - This conversation never happened and no one needs to know.
Rohit - Seriously dude.
.
.
.
.
In seemingly happier times.
.
.
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