Why do i update my blog?
because i am a good writer... Duh!
Because I wanna tell people that i m in the well, do you wanna be in the well too...
--------
well I wanna do “first things first” and first thing i do is think of new post that i m going to post.. duh....i guess i need a kick on my backside for i don't have anything else to do....
(well, i think i m genius to have put across the above written point so well)
------------
because i wanted tell my friends, that i cook very good food. the news here spreads so fast that its been one month since any of my friends visited me...i guess i m not that in the well ....
------------
so i write because i want to tell people that you should not waste your time like me crying, telling your miseries to people. well i waste a lot of time here... i bet most of famous and great people waste time otherwise what the F*** was Newton doing sitting under the apple tree.
why do i update my blog?....
the questing is still here will no clear answer. It seems like a juxtaposition. i have answer and i have questions, both go hand in hand.
Today basically i wanted to write because i didn't feel like doing anything, i though i was “too HOT” to handle; a heart throb. but suddenly my father’s punch brought me out of my reverie and i found out that i had fever, that’s why i was feeling :too HOT: and bloody environmentalists say its global warming.
--------
why do i update my blog..
well “ je ne sais pas” (i don’t know)
may be because i know that no-one will read it....
and yes F.Y.I 99% of the blog writers read their blogs all by themselves..
wow.... suckers!
-------
and yes like i already mentioned once that ancient Egyptians wrote letters to the dead, i don't like writing letters, so instead email them. i kept emailing then to know if they are in the well there or not... but no one replied...so i started blogging.
-----
i took pledge to be really friendly with environment, and yes, its true that my grandfather had a farm...... but not on facebook.
-------
i m hungry and i m bored.
and last but not the least, my computer’s motherboard is making too much noise, i think it needs a fatherboard to go to the same well as myself.
anyone got spare fatherboard?
---------
i guess thats enough for today.. i hope you all go to the well..
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
One last cigarette…..one last letter.. letter to the dead.
Why do people write…
It might be a source of money for some, or a way of expressing ..
Why do I write? For me .. It’s more like a bliss .. it heals me .. most of the time when I get lost.. I look for a respite .. some magic..a way to be invisible from the mundane things ..then I read or I write .. it has a magical affect ..
I keep reading people’s blogs, I take ideas from them… I cherish and learn..
Anyhow… this post is not how I am so genius because I can write this crap! Or how I waste my bloody time…
This letter is about a friend (only for 10 hours) and this is my first and last letter to him..
I call it .. the letter to the dead..
I saw somewhere that.. ancient Egyptians wrote letters to the dead when they didn’t find comfort with the living beings... it stirred me at first so much.. that I could not sleep for few nights. I contemplated death and dying .. and pondered over it again n again ..
what feeling did they get when they wrote these letters…but now I feel what they must have felt… sometimes doing this is the only way to pacify yourself….
----------------
I was traveling to Dehradun to visit my family friend. It was his brother’s marriage time.
“Why can’t you fucking go?” I asked my brother.
“Fuck of... either go or die.” Replied my brother.
“Ok, return my 5000 Rs if you want me to go”, my brother said.
Pheww! I had no other option, so I packed my bags and headed off to Dehradun.
----------
I was not very happy but since I had no other option, I got ready for my rendezvous with my so-called family friends. He he
-----------
“Rajat is his name”, I thought but I was not sure. So here I was standing at palampur bus stand waiting for the bus, but I didn’t even know their names.
-------
It was really chilly that day at palampur and I was shivering … well not really that much though.
Bus was just about to leave for haridwar via Dehradun.
Standing at the bus stand in the chilly winter day reminded me of the days when we used to go to our aunts home in our summer vacations, there was this force that kept us waiting for the summer vacation.
My aunt used set out four cups of tea and a plate of Britannia Marie biscuits on the little cane stool every morning. I used to help her by dragging four cane chairs and setting it around the table. But now it’s been 5 years since I met my aunt and had tea at her nicely maintained porch.
God! I miss those bloody days…
------
“The honking of the bus brought me out my day dream”. I sat at the given seat number.
“Is this seat take, son”, a voice came.
I squinted to see where that voice came from, “no, uncle” I replied.
A nice looking man sat beside me, though he was in his 50’s but his visage was glowing like anything, salt and pepper hair made him look like a 70’s villain though.
“Cigarette”, he said.
“No, thanks”, I blurted.
Suddenly that old commercial started flashing in front of my eyes where A man is seen viciously puffing away from glory and the music goes on, in the background – “cigarette in my hand, I felt like a man” and in next few shots he coughs, droops and finally metamorphoses into a skeleton.
“do you mind putting your cigarette away sir, I feel like throwing up”, I said.
He threw his cigarette away but then he stopped talking to me, may be he got angry or he got offended.
It was half way from Chandigarh when our bus stopped for snack and fuck what not..
This was the first time I saw that handsome man completely, he was quiet muscular and attractive. I couldn’t stop myself so I went ahead and asked for the matchstick.
He gave me the matchstick and we started talking.
-------
I was totally in love ..
There are people who are just born to be in love. I am one of them.
There are people who are born to be loved. I am not one of them.
I am not ShahRukh , who finds his love at the end of the movie.
--------
I have loved. A little too many times. I’ve been loved. By too many. Never for the right reasons.
I fell in love with the my teacher when I was in school, but yes that love was innocent.
I fell in love with my Dad’s driver because of his so called “dimpled chin”.
And bla bla bla…
--------
So it was not new for me to have fallen for a man just right away, I was like a hungry tiger, just waiting for the prey.
--------
“So what do you do?” he asked me.
“MBA, final semester uncle”, I said.
“Uncle, what the fuck is this?”, finally he said.
----------
and you, I asked.
“Well to start with, I have blood cancer, and I might not live more that one month, so I m going to haridwar for one last dip. Going to mussoire to see the place for the last time where I proposed the love of my life, to Chandigarh where I studied and spent the glorious days of my life…
And bid farewell to all those who were important for me”. He said.
--------
I was stoned to death and the way he mentioned it and they way his blue eyes glittered , mesmerized me….
“cigarette” he said.
I nodded for the sound of yes as I was speechless.
“here”, he said. “not good for health though”, I said.
------
“My son, he is a doctor at PGI, he loves me a lot. I love him a lot too but his wife thinks I am evil so they left me”, he said.
“it really kills me” he said with tears rolling out of his eyes.
He told me how he had brought up his kids and how he sacrificed his life for his son and daughter and never married again after the death of his wife.
He told me that he doesn’t want his son to waste his hard earned money on his treatment.
I knew he was lying, I ve seen people throwing out their old parents.
--------
how 8-10 hours passed in the bus was such a surprise… he told me his life experience.
He was an engineer in the army (his physique showed it), how he raised his kids, his hobbies and all.
Even I shared many thing with him. It was such a fun.
--------
we were about to reach Dehradun, and suddenly I said in the middle of nowhere.
“Do you know that I am gay?” I blurted… and I really don’t know why I said that to him.
“Wow… and why did u tell me” he asked.
“Because I want to kiss you, not like as in sex “kiss you”, but the other kiss you,
I mean I want to do friendly kiss , may be on the cheek or on lips, not like as in sex “kiss you” I kept mumbling…
I just forgot everything and kept mumbling,, god knows what.
“but the other kiss you…, I know what you mean”, he said.
“Sorry”, I couldn’t think of anything else.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you this, but I don’t know why I said that to you”, I said
“Don’t worry”, Tell me what else do you like.
---------
“Nothing sir”
--------
I didn’t speak to him after that,
I couldn’t, how could I?
--------
“I AM GAY” WOW…
--------
I was wondering what would he be thinking about me.
So when my stop came. I got down from the bus.
---------
“You didn’t tell me your name” someone said.
I turned around and found him there standing with his bag outside Dehradun bus stand.
“weren’t you suppose to go to Haridwar” I asked.
“Well, how could I missed that kiss on my cheeks or lips, not like as in sex kiss…”, he said wittily
We laughed and then decided to spend the night together and talk and get to know each other.
We took a room at the hotel nearby…
I had my way with him though( yippee)
------
Well it was not sex but it was something … I have no words to describe it though.
I told him how I wanted to hear his heartbeat while I sleep, how I wanted to feel the warmth of his chest on my cheek and how I wanted to see the male form in its full glory.
-------
He had no objection to anything…
We knew our boundaries and we spoke, got naked, lingered around in those limits only.
------
next morning we exchanged numbers and set on our own ways.
I reached my “family friend’s” home and enjoyed the party. Though I kept thinking about the bus guy(Mr. B) all the time.
------
so after a week I came back from Dehradun,
but I felt like I was missing something.
I called him on the number he gave me but my call never reached him.
-------
one day a letter came to my home address with a small carton.
I opened it and found one cigarette. So it was a full cigarette box but contained only one cigarette. And the letter said:
“Dear friend, one last cigarette from your UNCLE… you made my day that day and made me feel special, I wish you could sleep on my chest everyday and listen to my heartbeat. But by the time you will receive this gift of mine, my heart would have stopped forever but I know it will be there beating in your ears and I hope you accept my gift a cigarette and a kiss which by the way is not a “sex kiss”.
Your Friend… forever!”
---------
I couldn’t stop myself from crying that day. It felt like I have lost something very valuable, there was a feeling of excruciating pain somewhere inside me.
I am calling it “something” because I again have no words to describe it. It may sound ordinary and fictitious to you but as people around me said…
We have been there… done that.. presumably for them it was nothing, but I couldn’t help thinking about him .. again and again… day after day …
I know that his image will remain with me forever a silhouette in the dark smoking a cigarette
---------
now more than a year has passed since he died… it seems so cruel that time passes so gently and heals away all the pain, now I remember him quiet less, once in blue moon, the pain is less.
I wrote him a letter when I had just come from Dehradun from that marriage. But I received his gift before I could post it.
I call it the letter to the dead… but I guess the dead person I wrote to…is nobody else….. but me.
--------
so now when I remember that face.. vaguely though.
I take out that cigarette that he gave me and I kiss it gently
“Kiss,, not like as in sex kiss though”…..Duh!
-----
So here I m left with… one last cigarette and one letter…..
------
I don’t know about that man any more that one nightstand and still I miss him.
I was told by some friends to write blogs .. n was warned .. It doesn’t guarantee you readers some of my friends said they had been posting for eons but they read it themselves so my letters to dead were written for my own self posted here.
------
Well I was sitting on my couch, with my dog. Watching TV.
And I saw one guy just like Mr. B. so I though of writing about him.
I am bored and confused…
Ps: Again I got lost while writing… I had a terrible headache…
But I’m human and as I said in one of my blogs.. I’m a sinner.
It might be a source of money for some, or a way of expressing ..
Why do I write? For me .. It’s more like a bliss .. it heals me .. most of the time when I get lost.. I look for a respite .. some magic..a way to be invisible from the mundane things ..then I read or I write .. it has a magical affect ..
I keep reading people’s blogs, I take ideas from them… I cherish and learn..
Anyhow… this post is not how I am so genius because I can write this crap! Or how I waste my bloody time…
This letter is about a friend (only for 10 hours) and this is my first and last letter to him..
I call it .. the letter to the dead..
I saw somewhere that.. ancient Egyptians wrote letters to the dead when they didn’t find comfort with the living beings... it stirred me at first so much.. that I could not sleep for few nights. I contemplated death and dying .. and pondered over it again n again ..
what feeling did they get when they wrote these letters…but now I feel what they must have felt… sometimes doing this is the only way to pacify yourself….
----------------
I was traveling to Dehradun to visit my family friend. It was his brother’s marriage time.
“Why can’t you fucking go?” I asked my brother.
“Fuck of... either go or die.” Replied my brother.
“Ok, return my 5000 Rs if you want me to go”, my brother said.
Pheww! I had no other option, so I packed my bags and headed off to Dehradun.
----------
I was not very happy but since I had no other option, I got ready for my rendezvous with my so-called family friends. He he
-----------
“Rajat is his name”, I thought but I was not sure. So here I was standing at palampur bus stand waiting for the bus, but I didn’t even know their names.
-------
It was really chilly that day at palampur and I was shivering … well not really that much though.
Bus was just about to leave for haridwar via Dehradun.
Standing at the bus stand in the chilly winter day reminded me of the days when we used to go to our aunts home in our summer vacations, there was this force that kept us waiting for the summer vacation.
My aunt used set out four cups of tea and a plate of Britannia Marie biscuits on the little cane stool every morning. I used to help her by dragging four cane chairs and setting it around the table. But now it’s been 5 years since I met my aunt and had tea at her nicely maintained porch.
God! I miss those bloody days…
------
“The honking of the bus brought me out my day dream”. I sat at the given seat number.
“Is this seat take, son”, a voice came.
I squinted to see where that voice came from, “no, uncle” I replied.
A nice looking man sat beside me, though he was in his 50’s but his visage was glowing like anything, salt and pepper hair made him look like a 70’s villain though.
“Cigarette”, he said.
“No, thanks”, I blurted.
Suddenly that old commercial started flashing in front of my eyes where A man is seen viciously puffing away from glory and the music goes on, in the background – “cigarette in my hand, I felt like a man” and in next few shots he coughs, droops and finally metamorphoses into a skeleton.
“do you mind putting your cigarette away sir, I feel like throwing up”, I said.
He threw his cigarette away but then he stopped talking to me, may be he got angry or he got offended.
It was half way from Chandigarh when our bus stopped for snack and fuck what not..
This was the first time I saw that handsome man completely, he was quiet muscular and attractive. I couldn’t stop myself so I went ahead and asked for the matchstick.
He gave me the matchstick and we started talking.
-------
I was totally in love ..
There are people who are just born to be in love. I am one of them.
There are people who are born to be loved. I am not one of them.
I am not ShahRukh , who finds his love at the end of the movie.
--------
I have loved. A little too many times. I’ve been loved. By too many. Never for the right reasons.
I fell in love with the my teacher when I was in school, but yes that love was innocent.
I fell in love with my Dad’s driver because of his so called “dimpled chin”.
And bla bla bla…
--------
So it was not new for me to have fallen for a man just right away, I was like a hungry tiger, just waiting for the prey.
--------
“So what do you do?” he asked me.
“MBA, final semester uncle”, I said.
“Uncle, what the fuck is this?”, finally he said.
----------
and you, I asked.
“Well to start with, I have blood cancer, and I might not live more that one month, so I m going to haridwar for one last dip. Going to mussoire to see the place for the last time where I proposed the love of my life, to Chandigarh where I studied and spent the glorious days of my life…
And bid farewell to all those who were important for me”. He said.
--------
I was stoned to death and the way he mentioned it and they way his blue eyes glittered , mesmerized me….
“cigarette” he said.
I nodded for the sound of yes as I was speechless.
“here”, he said. “not good for health though”, I said.
------
“My son, he is a doctor at PGI, he loves me a lot. I love him a lot too but his wife thinks I am evil so they left me”, he said.
“it really kills me” he said with tears rolling out of his eyes.
He told me how he had brought up his kids and how he sacrificed his life for his son and daughter and never married again after the death of his wife.
He told me that he doesn’t want his son to waste his hard earned money on his treatment.
I knew he was lying, I ve seen people throwing out their old parents.
--------
how 8-10 hours passed in the bus was such a surprise… he told me his life experience.
He was an engineer in the army (his physique showed it), how he raised his kids, his hobbies and all.
Even I shared many thing with him. It was such a fun.
--------
we were about to reach Dehradun, and suddenly I said in the middle of nowhere.
“Do you know that I am gay?” I blurted… and I really don’t know why I said that to him.
“Wow… and why did u tell me” he asked.
“Because I want to kiss you, not like as in sex “kiss you”, but the other kiss you,
I mean I want to do friendly kiss , may be on the cheek or on lips, not like as in sex “kiss you” I kept mumbling…
I just forgot everything and kept mumbling,, god knows what.
“but the other kiss you…, I know what you mean”, he said.
“Sorry”, I couldn’t think of anything else.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you this, but I don’t know why I said that to you”, I said
“Don’t worry”, Tell me what else do you like.
---------
“Nothing sir”
--------
I didn’t speak to him after that,
I couldn’t, how could I?
--------
“I AM GAY” WOW…
--------
I was wondering what would he be thinking about me.
So when my stop came. I got down from the bus.
---------
“You didn’t tell me your name” someone said.
I turned around and found him there standing with his bag outside Dehradun bus stand.
“weren’t you suppose to go to Haridwar” I asked.
“Well, how could I missed that kiss on my cheeks or lips, not like as in sex kiss…”, he said wittily
We laughed and then decided to spend the night together and talk and get to know each other.
We took a room at the hotel nearby…
I had my way with him though( yippee)
------
Well it was not sex but it was something … I have no words to describe it though.
I told him how I wanted to hear his heartbeat while I sleep, how I wanted to feel the warmth of his chest on my cheek and how I wanted to see the male form in its full glory.
-------
He had no objection to anything…
We knew our boundaries and we spoke, got naked, lingered around in those limits only.
------
next morning we exchanged numbers and set on our own ways.
I reached my “family friend’s” home and enjoyed the party. Though I kept thinking about the bus guy(Mr. B) all the time.
------
so after a week I came back from Dehradun,
but I felt like I was missing something.
I called him on the number he gave me but my call never reached him.
-------
one day a letter came to my home address with a small carton.
I opened it and found one cigarette. So it was a full cigarette box but contained only one cigarette. And the letter said:
“Dear friend, one last cigarette from your UNCLE… you made my day that day and made me feel special, I wish you could sleep on my chest everyday and listen to my heartbeat. But by the time you will receive this gift of mine, my heart would have stopped forever but I know it will be there beating in your ears and I hope you accept my gift a cigarette and a kiss which by the way is not a “sex kiss”.
Your Friend… forever!”
---------
I couldn’t stop myself from crying that day. It felt like I have lost something very valuable, there was a feeling of excruciating pain somewhere inside me.
I am calling it “something” because I again have no words to describe it. It may sound ordinary and fictitious to you but as people around me said…
We have been there… done that.. presumably for them it was nothing, but I couldn’t help thinking about him .. again and again… day after day …
I know that his image will remain with me forever a silhouette in the dark smoking a cigarette
---------
now more than a year has passed since he died… it seems so cruel that time passes so gently and heals away all the pain, now I remember him quiet less, once in blue moon, the pain is less.
I wrote him a letter when I had just come from Dehradun from that marriage. But I received his gift before I could post it.
I call it the letter to the dead… but I guess the dead person I wrote to…is nobody else….. but me.
--------
so now when I remember that face.. vaguely though.
I take out that cigarette that he gave me and I kiss it gently
“Kiss,, not like as in sex kiss though”…..Duh!
-----
So here I m left with… one last cigarette and one letter…..
------
I don’t know about that man any more that one nightstand and still I miss him.
I was told by some friends to write blogs .. n was warned .. It doesn’t guarantee you readers some of my friends said they had been posting for eons but they read it themselves so my letters to dead were written for my own self posted here.
------
Well I was sitting on my couch, with my dog. Watching TV.
And I saw one guy just like Mr. B. so I though of writing about him.
I am bored and confused…
Ps: Again I got lost while writing… I had a terrible headache…
But I’m human and as I said in one of my blogs.. I’m a sinner.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Another day on the couch!
“Again, here I was sitting on my couch and I love it sitting and watching T V, Eating”
So I ask myself, is this all you want to do with your life…………..pheww!
------------
I get catapulted into the vastness of my sins, through my static and halted life in the clustered vastness. It seems like I’m flying in the vicious circle of life and death and most importantly; you & I (you; who said that you would call but never called…fuck you!)
----------
Over the years, I’ve become an expert on my myriad failures of self-knowledge. I did not intend to write anything and I am not exactly ‘writing’ ..
I read few blogs after a long time today and wanted to post ‘something’. The inability to write speaks eloquently about my basic design flaw. The fact remains that our most potent and necessary dreams can derive from simple misunderstanding.
I was slow to comprehend that my dream of becoming an “actor”, “an artist”, ‘writer’ actually was a mask for more urgent need - to escape failures .. the insistent everyday failures ..
So when I lost my inner child to the mundane things, I gave up my dreams to be famous and rich… well! Who doesn’t want that !
i kept lying to me all my life, I became and engineer and passed out with flying colors from such a good school… I was not happy.
Though my dad was!
I got admission into one of the good B-Schools, but I was not happy!
Again my was father was proud!
from there on the pen, or rather the keyboard lay dead under my cramped fingers. It is as if all the letters of the alphabet, all combinations of letters into words, all the infinite possibilities of written language has ceased to exist.
I gave up my theater in college… as if my life was finished. I never went on the stage again….. all the infinite possibilities of expressing myself vanished.
-------
Well here I go again revealing my failures to you…. to the mean world… I know you be laughing.. but I don’t fucking care…………….. because that was my decision five years ago to leave the stage, to kill my dreams………… to give up writing …
So one day I got up… went to the temple and came back … and it was a different me..
The scared one.. one who has replaced his obsolete counterpart. The fresh "going to be engineer" me.
Most of us remain children all our lives, perpetually attracted to all wrong things, repeatedly falling for everything that is cheap and superficial.
I’ve discovered the intense pleasures inherent in defeat and I practice failure which forever shall remain my sole grace.
I cherish my failures because I know that was my personal decision
There is perverse pleasure in pain, in suffering and even in humiliation. I know I will be humiliated, laughed upon but I will never be ashamed as I know the reality.
I grew up, I was not attracted to the wrong things……………….I was me… and scared… life seemed so ambiguous.
-------------
The shape of every following day is an articulate statement of impending defeat. I could have blamed it on luck. Aah .. life screwed me and its luck which made me ( you) a loser but its something you or I wanted to be without knowing it.
So now here I am, flying in the space in My dreams.. sitting on my couch….
I stand and fly and roll and what not .. among the one million possibilities of life..
I could never understand what’s happening to me, and I lacked the ability to stand for myself but now I know that I am me because I chose to be me… a m ix of rejuvenation and relief lingers me when I think of this….
I made mistakes in choosing my career, in choosing my partner in choosing my life….
I got hurt … but now I m here…. With my couch and TV and a can of diet cock(read coke)
Well all isn’t lost, and life goes on… like the repeats of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, Sienfelf and all my favorite shows..
Life will move on and I will keep watching the repeats…………..thats me…duh!
PS- I don’t know what I hve written,, everything got mixed.. plz let me know in comments if you find it stupid.
So I ask myself, is this all you want to do with your life…………..pheww!
------------
I get catapulted into the vastness of my sins, through my static and halted life in the clustered vastness. It seems like I’m flying in the vicious circle of life and death and most importantly; you & I (you; who said that you would call but never called…fuck you!)
----------
Over the years, I’ve become an expert on my myriad failures of self-knowledge. I did not intend to write anything and I am not exactly ‘writing’ ..
I read few blogs after a long time today and wanted to post ‘something’. The inability to write speaks eloquently about my basic design flaw. The fact remains that our most potent and necessary dreams can derive from simple misunderstanding.
I was slow to comprehend that my dream of becoming an “actor”, “an artist”, ‘writer’ actually was a mask for more urgent need - to escape failures .. the insistent everyday failures ..
So when I lost my inner child to the mundane things, I gave up my dreams to be famous and rich… well! Who doesn’t want that !
i kept lying to me all my life, I became and engineer and passed out with flying colors from such a good school… I was not happy.
Though my dad was!
I got admission into one of the good B-Schools, but I was not happy!
Again my was father was proud!
from there on the pen, or rather the keyboard lay dead under my cramped fingers. It is as if all the letters of the alphabet, all combinations of letters into words, all the infinite possibilities of written language has ceased to exist.
I gave up my theater in college… as if my life was finished. I never went on the stage again….. all the infinite possibilities of expressing myself vanished.
-------
Well here I go again revealing my failures to you…. to the mean world… I know you be laughing.. but I don’t fucking care…………….. because that was my decision five years ago to leave the stage, to kill my dreams………… to give up writing …
So one day I got up… went to the temple and came back … and it was a different me..
The scared one.. one who has replaced his obsolete counterpart. The fresh "going to be engineer" me.
Most of us remain children all our lives, perpetually attracted to all wrong things, repeatedly falling for everything that is cheap and superficial.
I’ve discovered the intense pleasures inherent in defeat and I practice failure which forever shall remain my sole grace.
I cherish my failures because I know that was my personal decision
There is perverse pleasure in pain, in suffering and even in humiliation. I know I will be humiliated, laughed upon but I will never be ashamed as I know the reality.
I grew up, I was not attracted to the wrong things……………….I was me… and scared… life seemed so ambiguous.
-------------
The shape of every following day is an articulate statement of impending defeat. I could have blamed it on luck. Aah .. life screwed me and its luck which made me ( you) a loser but its something you or I wanted to be without knowing it.
So now here I am, flying in the space in My dreams.. sitting on my couch….
I stand and fly and roll and what not .. among the one million possibilities of life..
I could never understand what’s happening to me, and I lacked the ability to stand for myself but now I know that I am me because I chose to be me… a m ix of rejuvenation and relief lingers me when I think of this….
I made mistakes in choosing my career, in choosing my partner in choosing my life….
I got hurt … but now I m here…. With my couch and TV and a can of diet cock(read coke)
Well all isn’t lost, and life goes on… like the repeats of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, Sienfelf and all my favorite shows..
Life will move on and I will keep watching the repeats…………..thats me…duh!
PS- I don’t know what I hve written,, everything got mixed.. plz let me know in comments if you find it stupid.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
My tryst with life!
i sit on the couch, on the Sunday morning...
i have nothing to do, but there are lot of things that needs to be done!
my clothes needs to be washed, my food needs to be cooked, room to be cleaned.
but i do nothing. i just sit in front of the TV... and still got nothing to do.
-----
I am even scared to close my eyes...
because when i close my eyes....
I remember our brief togetherness, undead moments shared;
a nameless experience, amongst largeness usually-
a void, an odor, dark and languid, the scent of
a passionate body.
-------
most of all, I remember your lies, which took aim,
had no point, theatrical,
enacted on tiny stage, for a tiddly audience; you & I
------
you said you would call, but that call of yours never came.
the brief togetherness we had meant nothing to you. but still
i reminesce over the scent of your body your breath, amongs all..
the beating of your heart....
---------
being with you was never safe, you tore my heart,
everything so unreal, your smile, your eyes... most of all your talks...
i sat enclosed in the mist of your lies on a rainy day. my clothes all wet and yet my soul so dry.
---------
smoldering with pain inside and smile on my lips is what i have and everything lost in oblivion
---------
suddenly the door bell rang, and it was time for me to go back into reality... to watching TV..repeats of F.R.I.E.N.D.S....
i was wandering in the vast jungles of my thoughts, but its better for me to stay where i was....
on my couch!
duh!
i have nothing to do, but there are lot of things that needs to be done!
my clothes needs to be washed, my food needs to be cooked, room to be cleaned.
but i do nothing. i just sit in front of the TV... and still got nothing to do.
-----
I am even scared to close my eyes...
because when i close my eyes....
I remember our brief togetherness, undead moments shared;
a nameless experience, amongst largeness usually-
a void, an odor, dark and languid, the scent of
a passionate body.
-------
most of all, I remember your lies, which took aim,
had no point, theatrical,
enacted on tiny stage, for a tiddly audience; you & I
------
you said you would call, but that call of yours never came.
the brief togetherness we had meant nothing to you. but still
i reminesce over the scent of your body your breath, amongs all..
the beating of your heart....
---------
being with you was never safe, you tore my heart,
everything so unreal, your smile, your eyes... most of all your talks...
i sat enclosed in the mist of your lies on a rainy day. my clothes all wet and yet my soul so dry.
---------
smoldering with pain inside and smile on my lips is what i have and everything lost in oblivion
---------
suddenly the door bell rang, and it was time for me to go back into reality... to watching TV..repeats of F.R.I.E.N.D.S....
i was wandering in the vast jungles of my thoughts, but its better for me to stay where i was....
on my couch!
duh!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Nice Words
"My anger has left me, my sadness returned, and once more the tears flow. Whom can I curse, whom can I judge, when we are all alike unfortunate? Suffering is universal; hands are outstretched to each other, and when they touch . . . the great solution will come. My heart is aglow, and I stretch out my hand and cry, 'Come, let us join hands! I love you, I love you!' "
I Read these lines somewhere and i couldn't stop myself from copying them. It was a blog of my fellow blogger which caught my eye.
i just wanted to add something in the end.. just to make it complete!
i know these lines resemble almost all of us. They seem so bookish so unreal and yet so true.
Well, F.Y.I i couldn't think of anything to add in the end.
Duh!
I never knew writing a few words would be so difficult.
well if writing few words was easy, i would not have wasted so much space on this blog.
Phewww!!
i give up..........help anyone?
I wish i were like Mirza Ghalib... so succinct and so meaningful
"जब से देखि है हमने दुनिया करीब से, लगने लगे है सारे रिश्ते अजीब से"
PS:
I am really bored............................ and i hate my writing style
I Read these lines somewhere and i couldn't stop myself from copying them. It was a blog of my fellow blogger which caught my eye.
i just wanted to add something in the end.. just to make it complete!
i know these lines resemble almost all of us. They seem so bookish so unreal and yet so true.
Well, F.Y.I i couldn't think of anything to add in the end.
Duh!
I never knew writing a few words would be so difficult.
well if writing few words was easy, i would not have wasted so much space on this blog.
Phewww!!
i give up..........help anyone?
I wish i were like Mirza Ghalib... so succinct and so meaningful
"जब से देखि है हमने दुनिया करीब से, लगने लगे है सारे रिश्ते अजीब से"
PS:
I am really bored............................ and i hate my writing style
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Aphorism...
i sometime feel very strange as if everything has stopped and my life is doomed....
it brings shivers down my spine and i think of the same thing that i have thought since i got to know about this so called "" Disease"" of mine.... phewww!!
why me?? why not "him", Sanju, Raghu or the guy walking hand in hands with a girl down the corner or my cousin..... time and again this question come and haunts me... why me! god??
memories..... future..... darkness.... family.... future again.... they haunt me and i feel scared yet i have no choice. it was raining today and i wished if this rain could wash away my memories.. i want to be reborn... i want ablution!!!
well you must be wondering .. what a psycho ! must be pondering that i am talking shit. just for the sake of it.
but its hard.....
its hard to be called "FAG" , "Gay" et al....
yet no one calls me that bcoz no one know except one like minded guy.
---
it was raining cats and dogs ! and i was with a friend of mine who was giving me, Rahul and Ajay the so called " Bachelor's party" in shimla....
fuck it ! we are in shimla and what are we doing??? watching Zee News!!! damn.. i hate it.. one of us said... certainly it was not me or i would have told you so.
lets get drunk! phew !!! this is what we were doing for the pas two days..
but what the heck!
we went to a bar and we started getting drunk!
Crap !!!!!
"Zee News" in a bar .. which "Fag" watches news in a bar!!! hell with it, Rahul said.
anytime, anyone used to use this word... i used to feel bad..
""" SPECIAL REPORT""" on homosexuality!!!
this was flashing on the tv screen...
all my hunger, mood went down the drain.
the TV was on my side so i could see any hear everything.. allof them were half drunk but i was watching TV,
well they told about what "HOMOSEXUALS" are... and blah blah blah!!!
suddenly everythng started seeming preposterous. i knew something abt gays, but that day they gave me proper knowledge.. lets not go into the details of this at this time.
i need to use the loo... i said to my friends and straightaway went to my room.
went to the loo and started crying it was a sort of paroxysm..... i couldn't control it.. i just cried bcoz i m the only son and it would bring a bad name to my family...everything felt drab.
so like an hour or so crying session. i came out and went to bed straightaway...
that day changed my life. now i know, what i am and what my life is gonna be...
i planned not to divulge it to anyone..
its been 4 years now .....
so whats more better... being a fucking hard chit chatter, i cant keep this in my stomach... so what is more better... start telling ppl here.. that i am F**.
ha ha!!
--
i ve been in and out of relationships... well both with girls and guys.
--
but everything sounds so surreal....strange.............sultry !!!
--
my mom always says nowadays that you are in a marriageable age.... what typa girl do u want.
hellooo !! i m not a fucking girl mother..
i will marry when i want to !!
--
then her sobbing starts about how she and dad wants to see my kids and all that crap!!! duh!!
kids!! even i m a kid at heart..
--
life can be so ambiguous... i m in dilemma... what to do.. what not to do!!
--
guess what??
i got a new t shirt last week and it says!!!
" i am gay!! and no one knows it!!!
SO TRUE, So True!!!
PS; words used are not to demean gay ppl.. coz i m one of them... they depict what other ppl say :eveyone knows... right??
it brings shivers down my spine and i think of the same thing that i have thought since i got to know about this so called "" Disease"" of mine.... phewww!!
why me?? why not "him", Sanju, Raghu or the guy walking hand in hands with a girl down the corner or my cousin..... time and again this question come and haunts me... why me! god??
memories..... future..... darkness.... family.... future again.... they haunt me and i feel scared yet i have no choice. it was raining today and i wished if this rain could wash away my memories.. i want to be reborn... i want ablution!!!
well you must be wondering .. what a psycho ! must be pondering that i am talking shit. just for the sake of it.
but its hard.....
its hard to be called "FAG" , "Gay" et al....
yet no one calls me that bcoz no one know except one like minded guy.
---
it was raining cats and dogs ! and i was with a friend of mine who was giving me, Rahul and Ajay the so called " Bachelor's party" in shimla....
fuck it ! we are in shimla and what are we doing??? watching Zee News!!! damn.. i hate it.. one of us said... certainly it was not me or i would have told you so.
lets get drunk! phew !!! this is what we were doing for the pas two days..
but what the heck!
we went to a bar and we started getting drunk!
Crap !!!!!
"Zee News" in a bar .. which "Fag" watches news in a bar!!! hell with it, Rahul said.
anytime, anyone used to use this word... i used to feel bad..
""" SPECIAL REPORT""" on homosexuality!!!
this was flashing on the tv screen...
all my hunger, mood went down the drain.
the TV was on my side so i could see any hear everything.. allof them were half drunk but i was watching TV,
well they told about what "HOMOSEXUALS" are... and blah blah blah!!!
suddenly everythng started seeming preposterous. i knew something abt gays, but that day they gave me proper knowledge.. lets not go into the details of this at this time.
i need to use the loo... i said to my friends and straightaway went to my room.
went to the loo and started crying it was a sort of paroxysm..... i couldn't control it.. i just cried bcoz i m the only son and it would bring a bad name to my family...everything felt drab.
so like an hour or so crying session. i came out and went to bed straightaway...
that day changed my life. now i know, what i am and what my life is gonna be...
i planned not to divulge it to anyone..
its been 4 years now .....
so whats more better... being a fucking hard chit chatter, i cant keep this in my stomach... so what is more better... start telling ppl here.. that i am F**.
ha ha!!
--
i ve been in and out of relationships... well both with girls and guys.
--
but everything sounds so surreal....strange.............sultry !!!
--
my mom always says nowadays that you are in a marriageable age.... what typa girl do u want.
hellooo !! i m not a fucking girl mother..
i will marry when i want to !!
--
then her sobbing starts about how she and dad wants to see my kids and all that crap!!! duh!!
kids!! even i m a kid at heart..
--
life can be so ambiguous... i m in dilemma... what to do.. what not to do!!
--
guess what??
i got a new t shirt last week and it says!!!
" i am gay!! and no one knows it!!!
SO TRUE, So True!!!
PS; words used are not to demean gay ppl.. coz i m one of them... they depict what other ppl say :eveyone knows... right??
Unknown.......... Ambiguous!
well... what to say...
there are good times, and there are bad times....
good times never come and bad times never go..
---
i dont know what is really a good time and what is really a bad time.....
---
what the fuck!!!
---
i guess my bad time has just started .. although i considered earlier times as bad time but this is more bad i must say..
how??
lets c ------->>>
---
well sorry to keep u reading through that crap i worte above.....
---
i went to Cafe Coffee Day one regular day and sat there for some while.... i really love the Brownie thing though... well its not about how i ate brownie or anything..... its about a very handsome man sitting in front of me....
---
he was a handsome guy.. thick moustache... greyish eyes.. and S*** face.
so what could i have done.... yepp !! i started giving him a hard time.. i started staring.
---
he got so uncomfortable that he came to my sofa and asked me if i had any problem....
---
" I LIKE YOUR EYES" i said.... though ppl at that time there were less.. he smiled and sat with me.. explaining me how his gf didnt show up and he was all alone..
i told him that he had a nice face... and by chance he turned out to be himachali...like me . duh!!
---
so we chatted and then before we were leaving.. i told him that i m gay....
--
he is still a friend but not gay..
but i like it ..
i can stare at guys in front of him and he is cool
-- god tusi great ho !!
there are good times, and there are bad times....
good times never come and bad times never go..
---
i dont know what is really a good time and what is really a bad time.....
---
what the fuck!!!
---
i guess my bad time has just started .. although i considered earlier times as bad time but this is more bad i must say..
how??
lets c ------->>>
---
well sorry to keep u reading through that crap i worte above.....
---
i went to Cafe Coffee Day one regular day and sat there for some while.... i really love the Brownie thing though... well its not about how i ate brownie or anything..... its about a very handsome man sitting in front of me....
---
he was a handsome guy.. thick moustache... greyish eyes.. and S*** face.
so what could i have done.... yepp !! i started giving him a hard time.. i started staring.
---
he got so uncomfortable that he came to my sofa and asked me if i had any problem....
---
" I LIKE YOUR EYES" i said.... though ppl at that time there were less.. he smiled and sat with me.. explaining me how his gf didnt show up and he was all alone..
i told him that he had a nice face... and by chance he turned out to be himachali...like me . duh!!
---
so we chatted and then before we were leaving.. i told him that i m gay....
--
he is still a friend but not gay..
but i like it ..
i can stare at guys in front of him and he is cool
-- god tusi great ho !!
So you know Cooking?
-------------------------
“Wear the new suit that I got you on your birthday”, screamed my father.
“I don’t bloody want to go, Father”, I blurted.
“This time you are not going to make fool out of me any longer. This girl is highly qualified and her father is a doctor himself”, dad said.
So here I was caught in the scene between my mother, father and myself. All they talk now a days is about my marriage and how the thousand girls that are waiting for me, so I feel like king sometimes and how great I am that there are so many fathers who want their daughter s to get married to me (and then I laugh inside, the kind of the world laugh- he ha hu hu ha ha, me is great, me is genius laugh)
“Are you bloody listening to me”, my father said.
“Yes, Father.” His screaming brought me out of my fantasy kingdom, where I do my notorious and evil laugh.
-------------------------------------------------
So here we were sitting in a fancy restaurant in Chandigarh waiting for the other “Party” to come. I was looking quiet handsome but my father looked more scared and excited like the girl was going to come and see him.
“Dad, don’t ask silly questions in front of them please”, I Said.
“What now, am I invisible? father”, I asked.
My father was just about to answer my question with a very angry look on his face but suddenly he started smiling and his eyes got all lit.
I got the idea that “they” had arrived.
---------------------------------------------
“Namaste, beta” the man with the really big and crocked nose said.
“Namaste Uncle”, I replied.
Namaste’s were exchanged and for a moment everything went silent.
The most uncomfortable time had already started just in the beginning, I thought.
How are we going to spend the rest of the evening................God, please help me i said to myself.
“Did you say something, son” the man said.
“Coffee, uncle” I replied.
Coffee! Where did that come in between, I thought.
-------------------------------------------------------
Coffee sir! The waiter said.
Two black, one espresso and one Cafe au lait !
Black coffee, so pretentious! “I thought.
“What do u do son?
How do u do that?
Where do you do that?
What is this?
What is that and bla bla...
The old man just kept asking questions and with each question his nose looked bigger.
I just wanted to kill that old man that time. He was so irritating.
Only these two words came into my mind all the time- UG-LEE!
I was just wondering that how could someone live with such a big paunch and a nose big enough to fit a Mercedes Benz.
-----------------------------
“Can you cook food?” the girl asked me.
“What the fuck”, I thought.
That was it! My mercury level had gone really high.
Then she asked me those entire silly questions about how she likes to be independent and going out late with friends and how she hates working home and washing clothes and doing the dishes and many other things which the MAHARANI hated.
All I wanted to do was put the fork in my ears but as my dad has ordered, I was being very nice, nodding once or twice. Smiling a bit and saying thank you and please all the time.
--------------------------------
One hour had gone by and it seemed like 100 hours. I was bored to death and that suit was hurting my nut sack. My temper was also going high from the silly question those pretentious people were asking. I felt like the Bakra(male goat) who is fed before being beheaded.
Then suddenly I felt offended, I don’t know why but I really felt bad and I revolted.
“What is your future plans, son?” The man under the big nose said.
“Well, I am going to quit my current job in few months and then I will prepare for IAS exams for one or two year”, I replied proudly.
The man under the nose looked shocked (Man under the nose, wow!)
(Me is again genius)
“So how will you feed your wife?” he asked.
“Well my wife will work and feed me for the time being”, I said.
I moved my head while sipping my cafe au lait and had a look at my dad’s face. It was red and was definitely not looking happy with me.
“You are disowned from today onward”, i thought of him saying that later on.
So we asked for the cheque. The waiter came with the Cheque and placed it on the table. Obviously we paid for it. I mean the “nose” didn’t even say once that he wants to pay. So shameless!
--------------------------
So we came home without even uttering a word on the way back. It was just like the other interview we went through.
Suddenly my dad said,” Do you know cocking?” “Did you hear that bitch?”
And we laughed and laughed all the way home!
“Wear the new suit that I got you on your birthday”, screamed my father.
“I don’t bloody want to go, Father”, I blurted.
“This time you are not going to make fool out of me any longer. This girl is highly qualified and her father is a doctor himself”, dad said.
So here I was caught in the scene between my mother, father and myself. All they talk now a days is about my marriage and how the thousand girls that are waiting for me, so I feel like king sometimes and how great I am that there are so many fathers who want their daughter s to get married to me (and then I laugh inside, the kind of the world laugh- he ha hu hu ha ha, me is great, me is genius laugh)
“Are you bloody listening to me”, my father said.
“Yes, Father.” His screaming brought me out of my fantasy kingdom, where I do my notorious and evil laugh.
-------------------------------------------------
So here we were sitting in a fancy restaurant in Chandigarh waiting for the other “Party” to come. I was looking quiet handsome but my father looked more scared and excited like the girl was going to come and see him.
“Dad, don’t ask silly questions in front of them please”, I Said.
“What now, am I invisible? father”, I asked.
My father was just about to answer my question with a very angry look on his face but suddenly he started smiling and his eyes got all lit.
I got the idea that “they” had arrived.
---------------------------------------------
“Namaste, beta” the man with the really big and crocked nose said.
“Namaste Uncle”, I replied.
Namaste’s were exchanged and for a moment everything went silent.
The most uncomfortable time had already started just in the beginning, I thought.
How are we going to spend the rest of the evening................God, please help me i said to myself.
“Did you say something, son” the man said.
“Coffee, uncle” I replied.
Coffee! Where did that come in between, I thought.
-------------------------------------------------------
Coffee sir! The waiter said.
Two black, one espresso and one Cafe au lait !
Black coffee, so pretentious! “I thought.
“What do u do son?
How do u do that?
Where do you do that?
What is this?
What is that and bla bla...
The old man just kept asking questions and with each question his nose looked bigger.
I just wanted to kill that old man that time. He was so irritating.
Only these two words came into my mind all the time- UG-LEE!
I was just wondering that how could someone live with such a big paunch and a nose big enough to fit a Mercedes Benz.
-----------------------------
“Can you cook food?” the girl asked me.
“What the fuck”, I thought.
That was it! My mercury level had gone really high.
Then she asked me those entire silly questions about how she likes to be independent and going out late with friends and how she hates working home and washing clothes and doing the dishes and many other things which the MAHARANI hated.
All I wanted to do was put the fork in my ears but as my dad has ordered, I was being very nice, nodding once or twice. Smiling a bit and saying thank you and please all the time.
--------------------------------
One hour had gone by and it seemed like 100 hours. I was bored to death and that suit was hurting my nut sack. My temper was also going high from the silly question those pretentious people were asking. I felt like the Bakra(male goat) who is fed before being beheaded.
Then suddenly I felt offended, I don’t know why but I really felt bad and I revolted.
“What is your future plans, son?” The man under the big nose said.
“Well, I am going to quit my current job in few months and then I will prepare for IAS exams for one or two year”, I replied proudly.
The man under the nose looked shocked (Man under the nose, wow!)
(Me is again genius)
“So how will you feed your wife?” he asked.
“Well my wife will work and feed me for the time being”, I said.
I moved my head while sipping my cafe au lait and had a look at my dad’s face. It was red and was definitely not looking happy with me.
“You are disowned from today onward”, i thought of him saying that later on.
So we asked for the cheque. The waiter came with the Cheque and placed it on the table. Obviously we paid for it. I mean the “nose” didn’t even say once that he wants to pay. So shameless!
--------------------------
So we came home without even uttering a word on the way back. It was just like the other interview we went through.
Suddenly my dad said,” Do you know cocking?” “Did you hear that bitch?”
And we laughed and laughed all the way home!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
My Cousin "BROTHER"-BHAI
It was a long time ago, when I was quiet young... growing into puberty… changes occurring all over the body… scared and amazed though with the wide changes occurring, golden hair growing over the groin, very silky, hair coming under the armpits, moustaches and light brown beard scattered very lightly on the face. I started to feel different about myself, my cousins and friends used to read so called “ MASTRAM KI KAHANIYAN”, and DEBONAIRS, always talking about the girls, sex, boobs etc, but I was different in every respect, at that time I had no idea whatsoever was going on, but surely something was wrong I thought, I used to get errection in the class when I saw my mathematics teacher, so now a new problem aroused, had to wear an underwear too, so that my errection could be controlled.
On my 14th birthday I was really happy as I was getting out of the military school and going to live with my relatives in Kangra, very happy and very scared , I had memories of me visiting my relatives and having a crush on my eldest cousin, he was way older then me may be 15 or so yrs older…but so handsome and rugged, his face pretty chiseled and jagged, and he was very kind to me and friendly as well, used to take me out for movies, give me presents and let me sleep in his room with him, I liked everything about him but the most scary part was when he told me the stories of monsters at night…. That lead to the phobia of ghosts in me and I found myself waking up screaming at night and crying out his name... as if he was the monster. Sometimes my relatives used to get sick of my raucous screaming.
++++ Well friends! this gets a little naughty here and as per google's policy i cannot post X-Rated stuff here so to read the best part of thie anecdote
please click on the link
On my 14th birthday I was really happy as I was getting out of the military school and going to live with my relatives in Kangra, very happy and very scared , I had memories of me visiting my relatives and having a crush on my eldest cousin, he was way older then me may be 15 or so yrs older…but so handsome and rugged, his face pretty chiseled and jagged, and he was very kind to me and friendly as well, used to take me out for movies, give me presents and let me sleep in his room with him, I liked everything about him but the most scary part was when he told me the stories of monsters at night…. That lead to the phobia of ghosts in me and I found myself waking up screaming at night and crying out his name... as if he was the monster. Sometimes my relatives used to get sick of my raucous screaming.
++++ Well friends! this gets a little naughty here and as per google's policy i cannot post X-Rated stuff here so to read the best part of thie anecdote
please click on the link
The Dilemma for being ME
the same old feeling of guilt comes now and then to me...
"why me", and believe me its not good to live with something that you know, you wont be able to accept your whole life.
when i think of my poor parents ( though they are not really poor), it just kills me from inside..
how will they react if they ever find out about me. . .
----
some days ago, rather some months ago i had a sure shot plan to tell my mom atleast that i m gay, but somehow i couldn't convince myself for that.
----
well its not about finding sex, or meeting men/boys.. believe me if you are gay and you like sex,, then no one can stop you.. one can find thousands of men online who will kill for sex....
but this is not what i want, yes !! i've been through this. met some guys here and there...
but it sucks !!!!
----
i would give anything to get a normal life, to be a part of so called heterosexual society and live happily ever after.. i guess not in this life !!! damn...
---
when i go to a bar, a party or to any disc... i feel so attracted to every third man there but i cant look or talk as i m straight (read- with my straight friends) there. i look at girls rather than looking at what i should be looking at. i chit-chat with friends about boobs, this that and everything about girls (well the general 20 something talk), then as everybody else i boast of my so called sex dates with the hottest girls aroud. and when i reach home and i think of how i could have spoken to the blue eyed guy in the corner easily if i were not being someone else.
---
but what can be done, i sullenly obey the law of god !! i might have done very bad deeds in my life before this one... that's why i got such a bad punishment !!
i have everything.... loving parents. so nice sisters... cute dogs ,
big cars....but i dont have peace of mind and as i am growing up, i m feeling more and more cutt off from the society.
---
now this internet searching and chatting with fake names has become my identity...
blogging has become my passion, though no one ever reads them. but i like pouring my heart out here...
---
atleast some one listens to me, the one very place where i could be me...
---
at last i want to say this to my ma.....
Ma....
i am so sorry that i m such a bad boy....
i am so sorry that i m like this, but Ma... i would love to have a life where i could be a normal son.
i have made u feel so low and unproud... i m so sorry that i m such a shame...
i know you love me and i know,you knw that i m not an ordinary son.. like you always say that i m special....
please forgive me!!
"why me", and believe me its not good to live with something that you know, you wont be able to accept your whole life.
when i think of my poor parents ( though they are not really poor), it just kills me from inside..
how will they react if they ever find out about me. . .
----
some days ago, rather some months ago i had a sure shot plan to tell my mom atleast that i m gay, but somehow i couldn't convince myself for that.
----
well its not about finding sex, or meeting men/boys.. believe me if you are gay and you like sex,, then no one can stop you.. one can find thousands of men online who will kill for sex....
but this is not what i want, yes !! i've been through this. met some guys here and there...
but it sucks !!!!
----
i would give anything to get a normal life, to be a part of so called heterosexual society and live happily ever after.. i guess not in this life !!! damn...
---
when i go to a bar, a party or to any disc... i feel so attracted to every third man there but i cant look or talk as i m straight (read- with my straight friends) there. i look at girls rather than looking at what i should be looking at. i chit-chat with friends about boobs, this that and everything about girls (well the general 20 something talk), then as everybody else i boast of my so called sex dates with the hottest girls aroud. and when i reach home and i think of how i could have spoken to the blue eyed guy in the corner easily if i were not being someone else.
---
but what can be done, i sullenly obey the law of god !! i might have done very bad deeds in my life before this one... that's why i got such a bad punishment !!
i have everything.... loving parents. so nice sisters... cute dogs ,
big cars....but i dont have peace of mind and as i am growing up, i m feeling more and more cutt off from the society.
---
now this internet searching and chatting with fake names has become my identity...
blogging has become my passion, though no one ever reads them. but i like pouring my heart out here...
---
atleast some one listens to me, the one very place where i could be me...
---
at last i want to say this to my ma.....
Ma....
i am so sorry that i m such a bad boy....
i am so sorry that i m like this, but Ma... i would love to have a life where i could be a normal son.
i have made u feel so low and unproud... i m so sorry that i m such a shame...
i know you love me and i know,you knw that i m not an ordinary son.. like you always say that i m special....
please forgive me!!
BLIND DATE
so as the name suggests.... its a date with person whom you have not seen ever....
___
i came from college one day and was watching "F.R.I.E.N.D.S" when suddenly i received a call asking for so called Ajay thakur (the name i use for dirty chat ha ha ha), the person sounded very nice and for that only reason, i made up my mind to go see him and take the "RISK"
Pheww!!! desperate me !
___
so i got ready, wore my new adidas perfume... gelled up my hair and got ready for the blind date...
"Ma... i m going to sanjeev's house to fetch some notes on the "Quantam theory of Mechanics", you know my sessionals are on the way" i told my mother.
___
so i went to sector 17 and called the person, and asked him to meet me near Neelam Cinema. i was so anxious to meet my first blind date....
___
"hey , yo!! where are u??" i asked trying to sound funky on the fone.
___
i m in the blue t shirt , near the big pole ....
damn.. i got a shock when i saw a sissy type guy with tight t shirt and extra tight jeans wavigng at me....
_
wat d fok??????
___
so he came wobbling towards me and said hello to me a manner by which people standing near me certainly got to know abt us !
so we went to hot millions there for a quick bite and discussion. man i felt like sinking into the ground for the first time in my life...
___
well, then something bad came to my mind and i asked to take some time off to peeee......
man. wait here i'll be back !!!
_ and guess what .. i never went back
poor me!!
___
i came from college one day and was watching "F.R.I.E.N.D.S" when suddenly i received a call asking for so called Ajay thakur (the name i use for dirty chat ha ha ha), the person sounded very nice and for that only reason, i made up my mind to go see him and take the "RISK"
Pheww!!! desperate me !
___
so i got ready, wore my new adidas perfume... gelled up my hair and got ready for the blind date...
"Ma... i m going to sanjeev's house to fetch some notes on the "Quantam theory of Mechanics", you know my sessionals are on the way" i told my mother.
___
so i went to sector 17 and called the person, and asked him to meet me near Neelam Cinema. i was so anxious to meet my first blind date....
___
"hey , yo!! where are u??" i asked trying to sound funky on the fone.
___
i m in the blue t shirt , near the big pole ....
damn.. i got a shock when i saw a sissy type guy with tight t shirt and extra tight jeans wavigng at me....
_
wat d fok??????
___
so he came wobbling towards me and said hello to me a manner by which people standing near me certainly got to know abt us !
so we went to hot millions there for a quick bite and discussion. man i felt like sinking into the ground for the first time in my life...
___
well, then something bad came to my mind and i asked to take some time off to peeee......
man. wait here i'll be back !!!
_ and guess what .. i never went back
poor me!!
Friday, June 11, 2010
NEVERLAND-the land of no return
Well, one fine day I came from school and everyone was crying in the home. That moment just froze in my mind. My aunt from Palampur was there and i could not recall when the last time she visited us.
“What happened”, I asked my sister.
But she was so little and young and I didn’t expect any answer from her but since everyone was crying I was getting a bit unrest less.
“Take the kids to their room”, one old man said.
“Munni, why is everyone crying?” I asked my little sister.
We at that point of time no one knew among me and my sisters that why were so many people gathered around the house.
But next morning I saw my mom crying like hell and my dad fainting in the veranda. She was screaming like nothing, the cold chill went down my spine and i just knew what had happened.
I knew my big brother died otherwise my mom was really strong and she never cried. Yes, My elder brother died when I was 10 years old. The favourite of my parents and relatives. I never existed for them. I sometimes used to wonder if I die, no one will cry.
After that instance, my mom all together stopped talking for months at a time. My dad took off pretty well, after the death of Kasim (my brother) but my mother was devastated. Sometimes she used to go into coma. It was that I and my sisters didn’t exist for her, especially me.
Kasim was 4 years older than me and was favourit of everyone. My mom loved him so much that i felt so jealous all the time. I made plans of chocking him in his sleep many times. I was so bloody jealous. But i never wanted him to die as he was my big brother, i was safe with him in the school always, though he used to beat me at home but out of home he was my protector, no one could touch me when he was around.
His death killed the family and it was quiet a while things started getting better.
I used to go sit beside my mother for hours on Sunday or on school holidays, but he never looked or spoke to me or in fact to anyone.
After three four years, I wore Kasim’s clothes and went in front of my mother and she screamed so bloody loud that our neighbours came to see what has happened. She spoke after so many days. She just kept looking at me and i guess what was the first time in my life that she might have given me a look.
And then i started dressing and behaving like my older brother in front of my mother.
And the real me was lost as I wanted attention of my mother and love that I never wanted to share.
Well, i name it as Neverland, the land where I sent myself that day when i wore my brother’s clothes.
Neverland- the land of no return, where the real me will always be 10 years old boy wanting his mother’s attention very desperately.
Though I never told about this to anyone but I feel that i should tell this to someone that one young boy is trapped in the Neverland but he is happy there because he knows that his mother is happy and loves him because he learned the ways.
Everyone in the house calls me Kasim now because mother feels good that way. I think she doesn’t even remember having another son besides kasim.
Life is stange huh!
“What happened”, I asked my sister.
But she was so little and young and I didn’t expect any answer from her but since everyone was crying I was getting a bit unrest less.
“Take the kids to their room”, one old man said.
“Munni, why is everyone crying?” I asked my little sister.
We at that point of time no one knew among me and my sisters that why were so many people gathered around the house.
But next morning I saw my mom crying like hell and my dad fainting in the veranda. She was screaming like nothing, the cold chill went down my spine and i just knew what had happened.
I knew my big brother died otherwise my mom was really strong and she never cried. Yes, My elder brother died when I was 10 years old. The favourite of my parents and relatives. I never existed for them. I sometimes used to wonder if I die, no one will cry.
After that instance, my mom all together stopped talking for months at a time. My dad took off pretty well, after the death of Kasim (my brother) but my mother was devastated. Sometimes she used to go into coma. It was that I and my sisters didn’t exist for her, especially me.
Kasim was 4 years older than me and was favourit of everyone. My mom loved him so much that i felt so jealous all the time. I made plans of chocking him in his sleep many times. I was so bloody jealous. But i never wanted him to die as he was my big brother, i was safe with him in the school always, though he used to beat me at home but out of home he was my protector, no one could touch me when he was around.
His death killed the family and it was quiet a while things started getting better.
I used to go sit beside my mother for hours on Sunday or on school holidays, but he never looked or spoke to me or in fact to anyone.
After three four years, I wore Kasim’s clothes and went in front of my mother and she screamed so bloody loud that our neighbours came to see what has happened. She spoke after so many days. She just kept looking at me and i guess what was the first time in my life that she might have given me a look.
And then i started dressing and behaving like my older brother in front of my mother.
And the real me was lost as I wanted attention of my mother and love that I never wanted to share.
Well, i name it as Neverland, the land where I sent myself that day when i wore my brother’s clothes.
Neverland- the land of no return, where the real me will always be 10 years old boy wanting his mother’s attention very desperately.
Though I never told about this to anyone but I feel that i should tell this to someone that one young boy is trapped in the Neverland but he is happy there because he knows that his mother is happy and loves him because he learned the ways.
Everyone in the house calls me Kasim now because mother feels good that way. I think she doesn’t even remember having another son besides kasim.
Life is stange huh!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Me Against Myself-again!
I am Me. In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me. Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone chose it -- I own everything about me: my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice, all my actions, whether they be to others or myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears. I own my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes. Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with all my parts. I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know -- but as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me. If later some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me. I own me, and therefore, I can engineer me. I am me, and I am Okay.”
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