Some Advertising.

Ooo.. You know what you SHOULD read?

1) THIS

Also, there is this super cool E-magazine that goes by the name of Whackk, where yours truly is a regular contributor.
Hence, you should check out this and this, which were up for the month of June.

Some publicity never hurt anyone, now did it?
Even though I feel leetle cheap for the advertising, I have my reasons.

That'd be all :)

That friend.

We all have that friend. Well, most of us do.

That friend you'd meet when you are way into the prime of your adventurous streak.
That friend whose ass you had to cover each time they screwed up.
That friend who'd get suspended with you back in school for two weeks;
and then some more.
That friend who'd be a proud member of your back bench-er association.
That friend who'd go pick up a fight with the girl who called you names.
That friend who'd run away from home and live with you.
That friend whose mother trusts you to be the one to put some sense into them.
That friend who'd be an excited little blob when you make them bunk school for the first time.
That friend who'd write you love chits for no reason.
That friend who'd always make you want to go out of your way to protect them.
That friend who'd take a million pictures with you, without occasion.
That friend who'd be part of the 'people-you-can-never-speak-to' clan before they became That Friend.
That friend who'd spend all their summer evenings talking to you.
That friend who'd always pretend to be equally concerned when you'd fret over your potential balding.
That friend who'd often seem like an extension of yourself;
an unhygienic extension. But an extension nevertheless.

That friend with whom you just stop having anything in common with after a point.
That friend with whom the lack of commonality seizes to bother after a point.

We all have that friend. Well, most of us do.

That Friend who picked out the Red for you.

Dear Ryan,

Do you remember the time when we'd dress up and pretend to be movie stars, pop stars.. rockstars?

Or the time when we'd draw out little story boards on paper for Our version of the movies we didn't like and those that we did? 

Or the time when we'd use deo bottles as mike and sing songs of love with such passion?

That was the plan, right?

Do you remember the bizarre things I'd tell you?

I'd tell you how I was not going to do the whole long-gown thing for the red carpet. I'd tell you how I was going to show up in leather pants with pointy red heels that would bring out my ass, along with the colour of my eyes. I'd tell you to wear a plum blazer with baggies, for some reason. I'd tell you we'd make a statement. They'd think we are lovers. But we'd never clear the air when Simi would call us for a rendezvous, or even Oprah; because, 'lovers' didn't do it. 

"Just because we're barely 10 doesn't mean we don't feel as much", you'd tell me.

Do you remember the bizarre things you'd tell me?

You'd tell me how we'd walk into a restaurant and people would stop eating to witness our grand entry. You'd tell me how each of our many moves was going to be as precious as timeless art. You'd tell me that we weren't ordinary. You'd tell me that we were different; we were magic! You'd tell me that we'd make our way through the very expensive restaurant, take our seats and lose ourselves in conversations; conversations not about the work that's got us all that we have, but conversations about us. You know? Because we'd still be the humble souls in touch with our roots. 

"You'd still just order cheese pizza and coke, idiot!", I'd tell you.

You'd never disagree.

We thought we'd be rockstars! 

We never saw any reason to believe otherwise.

We were certain of the applause we'd get. We were certain of the autographs we'd sign.

We were certain that we won't tour too much.
Only Paris, maybe.
And New York. And China.

I'd planned to trick you into touring Korea too. You never wanted to go back to your roots, apparently! It was always Delhi for you. And people would think a Korean kid has it hard away from home. 

Such grand plans.

Then came 2004.

You died.

I wonder what you'd think of me now?

Of my right choices or the sheer dearth of them. 

Of each smoke curl that escapes my parted lips.
Of my excessive drinking.

Of each time I say anything. Or think it.

You're probably a rockstar in Heaven now - however fantastically foolish that sounds - and you're probably building up anticipation in our audience about my arrival.

A good thing, that.

Anyway, I write this to tell you that'd someday I might get to see you again.
Someday I might get to touch you again.
Someday I might have your breath in sync with mine again.
Someday, that's not today.
Today, I found a picture of you.
I burnt it.
In my defence, you left me alone.
YOU DIED!

Sincerely,
Me.

The Slow Life.

I have always maintained how I hate travelling. However, that shouldn't be misconstrued to believe that I don't like taking a vacation. Only, my idea of a vacation operates on one sole objective : 

To Be Able To Lead The Slow Life.

I HATE the journey part in general, sometimes. After the talking, singing, leg pulling is done, I take high medications that make me sleep straight through about 10hrs of my life on the bus/train and other fancy modes of transport. I hate having to get up in the morning to go out trekking or sight-seeing or some such. Vacations are meant for chilling; for long baths, breathing, sleeping, lazing around, getting high, eating -- C.H.I.L.L.I.N.G.

I seem to be the only person getting that. Anyway, having gone most of my life being used to getting my way, I find my ways of 'chilling' even when I go out of the city with my tourist-like-travel-crazy friends. Yawn.

So I really have nothing substantial to report or discuss or post for the simple reason that I am still in the flow of The Slow Life from the hills. But of course, it would be a little silly on my part to think that the hangover of the same would last long. What is even more of a buzz kill is the sudden outburst of one million albums of the trip. I think pictures of me are going to take over the damn Facebook and humanity will be restored at last. Now I know how superhero(in)es are born. Even though they made me walk paths I wouldnt even have looked at at because of their sheer height and angles, my little getaway was worth it. Now if only Delhi wasnt so fuckin' hot.

It rained yesterday though :)

Talking of pictures and my lack of substantiality, I leave you with nothing but a subtle toast to the trip that was, my inner peace that's going to run its course soon, the Slow Life and an almost-picture of self from the trip.

Of Funny Pants, Lots of Walking, Intoxication, Lots Of Walking, 'Joint' Accounts, lots of Walking, Yummy Eating, Lots of walking, Pictures, Lots of Walking, Monks (Old Monk and Otherwise), Lots of Walking, Hippie Love, Lots of Walking, Paradise Weather, Lots of Walking, People I Love, Lots of Walking, Butters, Lots of Walking...

Mcleodganj. ♥
Summer '11

Sexual Innuendos.

When you meet someone after really long, there's always this little void that exists between both parties. The void grows stronger with time. 

The void becomes strongest with sexual history...

"Hey... long time... How you doing?"

"Oh! Hi. I've been okay... you? Got yourself a car, I heard. Congratulations!...

........................................................

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........................................................."

Amidst the awkward conversation among other things, my forsaken tattoo decides to peep out from under my sleeve:

-" You gotta tattoo? You were never a tattoo person back in the day!"

Back in the day was when I was 15 and he was about 20.

-"Yeah... things change, right?"
*awkward laugh*

-"Show mee??"

-"No.. Be satisfied with just this. I'm not giving away the whole thing"
*trying to sound/look smug*

-"Not the whole thing, eh? Still?"
*smirks*

- :|

-"Haha.. I'll see ya around, kid? Been a while! Gotta hit the gym now. Bye"

-"Yeah..."
*smiles*

It's going to be  some summer.

Leaving On Jetplanes.

Here's the deal : Since the age of fourteen, each time I have liked someone enough to picture a happy future with him, complete with the cushions I want to buy for Our house, the person leaves. And no, I am not talking about a sad break up. Just magically (and tragically, believe you me!) the guy's geographical location would change. It's true! 

It started with Ryan, whom I lost to cancer. (RIP, you.)

Growing up with an Army circle had its flip side; the guy's Dad got posted out of Delhi.

This one time the guy's family had to move to Malaysia because the family without a father had suffered severe business losses.

And then when a certain 'he' was sent to a hostel in Chandigarh because he was caught by the father with a few traces of some innocent hash on him. 

Finally, my mother-of-all-complicated-relationships-in-the-universe guy had to move to the US for more than just a couple of months, when I was certain that he was the one I wanted to make some babies with.

I stopped falling in 'love' after that, for some reason.

Love or whatever the hell kids call it these days. 

I realized that maybe it's jinxed. It's the Universe's way of mocking my looking down upon the breed of 'long distance' relationships. It's true. I don't understand how talking on the phone and now Skype qualifies you to call what you have, a real relationship. I'm not questioning the love both parties may have for each other or the commitment. But I just don't buy the 'in a relationship' tag that they might choose to endorse even with their grand emotional turmoils.

Point being, I didn't do the whole love charade anymore. I did do all sorts of 'love things' though. With all sorts of 'lovely people'... just never with as much involvement, I guess.

Then last year came this blow of my confusion and subsequent dealings with my potential bisexuality; which ended very Very badly, might I add. I am still an all out supporter for one's sexual rights and choices. Only, some experimentations, like mine, don't end up like one might have played them out in one's head. 

Funny story, though. That, for some other day.

Anyway, during that 'phase' (?), I fed this obsession for this girl. This girl I love. 

As platonic as it is and as away from my cushion-buying vision as it is,
it's still love.

And hence, no points for guessing, she's leaving next month. For Bombay...

......................................................................................................................

So anyone out there who might be having any visa issues or some such, come!

Come and make me fall for you.

And before you know it, you'd have left for another land.

To those days.

This one is to those days that are like today.

When the futility of life doesn't bother me too much.

When I hardly prepare for the exam I am to take the next morning.

When I don't see the need to feed my only OCD, that is, bathing.

When I don't contemplate the miseries of my life or my worker-like feet.

When I don't get pissed with the world's happiness.

When I wonder why the use of handcuffs as kinky doesn't work for me.

When I want to get into bed just when most are getting out of it.

When I refuse to learn anything new and not only out of arrogance this time.

When I smile foolishly at the things I know are meant to last.

When I don't need each one of my smoke rings to say something to me.

When I don't mind when people don't take my insults to them personally.

When I understand my flaws and don't hate the idea of correcting them.

When I feel too lazy to even breath but know that it isn't laziness.

It's probably peace.

I am happy as a child, I think. 

Bring Me Flowers. Talk For Hours :)

I Was Always A Cool Kid :)
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