Black Out: Part 2

Varun replied in the affirmative and started getting ready. He was already ecstatic that they were having their first date in ‘The Geisha’, a trendy South Delhi Restaurant and Lounge. He had dreamt of taking Priya to that place, but if she did not have the eye for great guys, like Natasha, it really was her fault. He told himself that he was not gonna drink anything , because he wanted to remember their rendezvous tonight. He already thought of a plan to tell his parents how he was going to fill up a form online of an university at Sunny’s house as the University was in US, the time to fill it was also according to US time zone. It was a lame excuse but he knew it could work, because it involved admission into a University.

He called Sunny to tell him of his excuse at home but he was more ecstatic to tell him his last night sexcapades! Sunny picked up,

"Haan bhai, kya kar diya tune aisa jo hum log 3 saal mae nahi kar paye?”

Varun then went on to tell whatever Robbie had told him.

“Oye hoye , Kamaal kar ditta … Panty faad ke rumaal .. Haan beta tabhi dekhu, pehle tera phone aaya raat ko, tab main phone utha nahi paya, maine call back kiya to Natasha nae uthaya, boli tu busy hai. Mujhe kuch samajh nahi aaya, tujhe dhunda to dekha kee Natasha tujhe kheech ke kahi le ja rahi hai. Ab samajh mae aaya kee baat kya thee!”

They chit chatted for some more time, sunny asked for more explicit details but Varun skirted the issue saying that he wasn’t the type of guy who would kiss and tell. Sunny hung up saying he would come back tomorrow and meet up with him.

Varun dressed up his best and reached The Geisha at 9.30, trying to be fashionably late. As he was about to make his stylish entry he was obstructed by a black mountain, he looked up to realize it was the bouncer who mumbled “Entry by invitation only”. He asked to him to look up Varun Sharma in Natasha’s guest list but he said there was no Varun Sharma in anybody’s guest list. Frustrated he decided to call Natasha and explained it to her that he was stuck outside. She said she was coming out. “How sweet”, he thought, “she was coming out to take me arm in arm. Natasha is definitely the better choice.”

She came out dressed in some serious designer wear, even her shoes looked like more expensive than his entire family fortune. He said ’Hi’ in his well rehearsed ‘smooth latin lover style’. “Ya tell me quickly what you wanted to know about last night. I think you don’t remember anything you did last night.” She said very curtly. This was not the reaction Varun was expecting.

“Ummm…. Ya I don’t… I was a little high… What exactly happened last night? Can we go in and talk?”

“No, I have friends and cousins from abroad waiting for me inside. And especially after how you behaved in my party last night, you should be thankful I am letting you inside 10 feet of me! Now hurry up, ask what you wanna ask.”

“Huh? What … What did I do last night?”

“Oh you forgot? How convenient? Well let me jog your memory. You got very drunk on the free booze, then you started harassing the girls out there, you even tried to hug some girl from behind, you became such a big nuisance that I had to literally pull you from the party. And if that wasn’t enough, you puked, on yourself. Oh god how disgusting it was! I had to call Robbie to get you out of your clothes and put you on bed in one of my rooms. You ruined the whole night for me!”

“But I… I am sorry but I don’t remember… Oh shit … Look I am so sorry …. I was sad about something and I had drunk a lot…”

“Well not my problem. Now that college is over, there is no need of showing me your face ever again”

“But Robbie told me something else last night and I … I don’t remember puking …”

“What did Robbie tell you? And of course you don’t remember, you don’t remember anything from last night”

“Well Robbie said that last night you and me … Like … You know … We … we got together … As in…”

“What? How could you even imagine something like that might happen? I would rather die than do something like that with you. Robbie told you this? That sick bastard!”

“But … But I had called you last night … And Robbie too last night, he said I asked him for a ... And you even left your Accord waiting for me to drop me home today morning. And I had this women’s perfume on me”

“Oh so it was you who happily took the ride in Accord, well that was for my Cousin Varun from The States who had also stayed back there in the night. He was stranded there for an hour and I almost fired my driver! And you tried to molest many girls out there, who knows where you got the perfume from?”

“But why did I call you and Robbie?”

“You didn’t, I did… When you puked on yourself I called Robbie to help me out from your cell. My phone was with him.”

“Oh … Look I am so sorry… I didn’t realize what was I doing last night.. I swear I don’t remember any of this… Shit… But why did Robbie say something like that? And do you recognize this no?” Varun showed her the weird number he had dialed the last that night.
Natasha took a glance at the number and said“ Nope, never seen it before. Who knows what were you trying to do last night? And about Robbie. He did that because he is a sick bastard! He thought playing this prank you would be funny! Now I have friends waiting for me inside, so if you could please .. Get lost!”

“And yes, if you remember anything at all from last night have the decency to call back immediately and apologize”

Varun felt like he fell from a ten storey building. Minutes ago he could not believe his good luck, now he was not able to believe his bad luck. Making a scene at the farewell party, getting that much drunk, trying to hug some girl, puking? His chances were over at this college, not only with Priya or Natasha but with every girl in the college and their friends. Ha had had black outs many times before but he had never done something like this before. Maybe it was because of Priya showing up with a date and he trying to enact ‘Dev D’ at the party with the Smirnoff bottle.

As much he wanted to deny this scenario he realized that this was far more plausible than him sleeping with Natasha especially after the way she behaved with him. Coming back from the ‘The Geisha’ he started to think that new scenario explains everything too, the calls, Sunny’s message, the waking up naked, , the women’s perfume, the stench and the supposed sweet behavior of Natasha towards him. When Sunny had seen him with Natasha he must have not realized that she was not trying to drag him to bed but instead dragging him away from other people in the party.

He was very embarrassed, but more than that he feared two things, first was facing Priya, no wonder she was not replying, she must have heard about him. And secondly telling Sunny that whatever he told him was a prank played on him by Robbie, he hated that asshole even more now. He couldn’t sleep the whole night trying to remember what had happened last night and what was this number he had dialed, he had dialed it again and it had come up that this number did not exist.

The next day Sunny came at his house at 2 o’ clock. He was still in bed, he had told his mom he was sick, which he actually felt at the moment. Sunny came in and jumped on the bed.

“Abey abhi tak bed mae hee hai? Aisa kya kiya Natasha baby ke saath kee abhi tak thaka hua hee hai? Ya fir kal raat fir ‘ding dong’?”

“Tabiyat theek nahi lag rahi ha yaar, aur Natasha koi meri baby waby nahi hai”

“Abey kya hua? Do hee din mae takraar, ye kaisa pyaar?”

“Arey usi ke baare mae main terese baat karna chahta tha, jaisa maine tujhe kal bataya tha raat ko waisa kuch nahi hua…. Robbie saale nae mujhe Chutiya banaya tha… Saala kal raat ko bahut bura hua tere bhaai ke saath ….

Then he went on to explain ‘the real story’ what Natasha had told him. Sunny fell off the bed laughing, after laughing at him for what seemed like an eternity he said,

“Ab samajh mae aaya kee Natasha tujhe kahan le ja rahi thee, aur usne ye kyun bola kee tu busy hai. Tu Ulti karne mae busy tha ! Ha ha ha ha…” Sunny started laughing again when he realized that Varun wasn’t thinking it was funny.

“Chal bhul ja kaake jo hua, waise bhi tujhe un logo se ab kaunsa milna hai. Aage kee soch”

"Arey yaar yaad to mujhe waise bhi kuch nahi hai, par yaar mujhe kuch cheezen samajh mae nahi aa rahi, ye number dekh aur bata kee kya ye tere samajh mae aata hai kya?” Varun showed him the number.

Sunny shook his head and said “Nahi to, na to ye number landline ka hai na hee mobile ka, apni tharak mae kisi sex line ko to nahi mila diya tha tune? Aur saale aisa hee ek message tune mujhe bhi bheja tha kal raat ko”

Sunny showed him the message sent to him on the farewell night. It was a random string of numbers.
‘77766622444330…….’

Varun couldn’t make out the head or tail of the number string, after staring at it for 5 minutes he gave up and said “Pata nahi bhenchod raat ko nashe mae maine kya kya kara yaar”

Sunny’s face hardened and he said in a serious tone “Yaar tujhe daaru peeke kuch yaad nai rehta ye mujhe pata hai, lekin tune kabhi aisa kuch nahi kiya ye bhi mujhe pata hai, pata nahi parson raat ko tujhe kya hua. Mereko lagta hai ye sab kaam kharab Priya ke us bande ke saath aane ke kaaran hua tha, main tereko kaha bhi tha kee ho sakta hai wo uske saath jo dusri chinky bandi thee ho sakta hai uska boyfriend ho, lekin tu mana nahi. Bekaar mae mood kharab karke daaru peene laga tha itni. Tereko yaad hai parson tu pura ek Smirnoff ka quarter neat pee gaya tha direct botal se?”

Varun faintly remembered that. Anyways he was in no mood to analyze what all he had done last to last night. He just wanted to move on and look towards things in the future. He discussed some other things with Sunny for a few hours and then Sunny got up to leave, as he was leaving he suddenly turned back and said

“Yaar waise to maine hee kaha tha kee parson ke baare mae baat nahi karenge lekin tune kaha kee Robbie aaya tere kapde utarne aur tujhe sulaane ke liye, par wo to party se nikal gaya tha raat ko dhaai - teen baje. In his new Audi Q7 ‘BOSS’”

“Boss? Ye kaunsa model hai Audi Q7 ka?”

“Abey model nahi, gaadi ka number tha – 8055, ‘BOSS’. Kya sexy gaadi thee yaar, itni sexy kee uske saath jo sexy bandi thee main to uski shakal tak nahi dekhi”

“Sexy bandiyon shakal to tu waise bhi kabhi nahi dekhta hai”

Both started laughing after this and Sunny left.

Varun much relieved after talking to Sunny and tried to forget the farewell night’s incident. But the last lines Sunny had said got stuck in his head. “8055, Where have I seen this number recently” he kept on thinking. Then suddenly it flashed to him - ‘8055’ these were the last 4 digits of the number he had dialed ’3555122278055’!

to be continued ....

Black Out: Part 1

“Aahhhh…. Oh fuck!”

It took a few minutes for the world to come into focus, it still felt like a TV Channel with a bad reception. But Varun wasn’t in his room, and this was not his bed. Where am I, he thought? All wooden interior, expensive furniture, nice bedspreads; this is certainly not a place where he had woken up before. And his head hurt like anything, actually the whole body hurt, and he was thirsty! He needed to drink water.

“Holy Crap!” He exclaimed.

Why am I sleeping naked here on this bed? And where the fuck are my clothes? Whose bed is it anyway and how it I get here. “What happened last night?” All these thoughts rapidly came into his head one after the other.“Oh no, not one of those black outs again, I really shouldn’t have drank that much last night. I was in my senses only last night, at least till Priya showed up. Oh damn, Priya! What happened with her last night? I need to find some clothes right now though. Where are my clothes, can’t find them anywhere? Oh, somebody has kept clean clothes for me out on the side table, wow, nice. So what exactly did happen last night?” He thought again.

There was one way to get some clue. He checked his phone.

Last Dialed #1 – 3555122278055. Whose no is this? And why was I calling it at 3:47 in the night?
Last Dialed #2 – Robbie. Why the hell had I called that Ass?
Last Dialed #3 – Natasha. Why did I call her at 3:23 AM? Even in the day time she never replied to my Hi.
Last Dialed #4 – Sunny.
Last Dialed #5 – Priya. Oh fuck! Please don’t tell me I drunk called her again. Now that she had at least started talking to me again. Our fire had been rekindled. Please god, no!

All the other calls he remembered making.

Received Call #1 – Sunny. He called me back around 3.35 in the night. Maybe he knows something.

He realized he had to get out of there fast. His mom dad will kill him for returning this late. “Oh this is Natasha’s farm house”, he realized as soon as he stepped out of the room, the place where she threw the farewell party for their batch. The whole batch was invited, and she had flown in some hot shot DJ from Mumbai. The place looked much different in the day light, serene, mundane and harmless. It had lost all its enigma of last night. But this place his huge, he thought, you could bury a body here and nobody would know. He looked around to find someone but there was no one; he remembered the huge army of servants who normally take care of this farmhouse were let off yesterday so they couldn’t report back anything back to Natasha’s parents. As he tried to find his way out he saw one guy in a white uniform standing near a Honda Accord, he was obviously a driver, Varun thought of asking him.

“Uhhhh … Bhaiya yahan se waapas Delhi kaise ja sakte hai?
“Aap Varun Saab ho kya?”
“Haan Kyun?”
“Didi nae bola tha kee aapko ghar ‘back drop’ karna hai, main aapka hee wait kar raha tha kaafi daer se, baithiye”
“Didi … Mere Matlab Natasha nae aapko mereko ghar drop karne ke liye yahan roka hai?”
Haan Saab… Kyun, unhone aapko ‘in from’ nahi kiya tha kya?
“Nahi nahi, kiya tha kiya tha…. ‘in from’ kiya tha mujhe.main bas aise hee puuch raha tha”

Sitting in the Accord he realized that something really weird had happened last night, Natasha never ever even offered him a lift all through the 3 years of college, now she kept a car exclusively for him to get back home, she gave a room to sleep, there were clothes kept neatly folded near his bed side. There has to be some reason behind this VIP treatment, if he could remember only remember last night. The more he tried to think the more his head hurt, he realized it was no use. It was best to ask others. He first decided to message Sunny.

“hey bro wht hppnd last night…. I cant rem a thing…. u clld me arnd 3 in da nite”
“uth gaya kaake? Utri kuch raat kee teri? Beta kal bahut pee li thee tune, aur kaand bhi tune bada hee kiya hai”
“abey kya hua kal rat ko… saaf saaf bata”
“wo tu to priya aur teri baby Natasha se hee puch lena. I am driving dwn to my Pind in my new dzire. C u”

Shit, he thought, this even confused me further instead of solving anything. I think
I need to ask the other 3 people I had called last night.

He messaged Priya first, with a pounding heart. “hey.. how r u … listen I had called u last nite, but I couldn’t hear u properly…. could u tell me again what had u said…. Thanx…”. What had I said to her last night that Sunny told me forget about her, he pondered over?

The driver dropped him back home and it had been already 13 minutes since the message was delivered to Priya and still no reply …. Maybe she was too pissed at him to even reply. He hesitatingly decided to message the other two people he had called last night, Natasha and Robbie.

He sent the first one to Natasha “hey thanx for the ride.. could u plz tell me y I had cld u lst nite… I cant rememeber stuff abt lst nite vry well”. And second one to

Robbie “Hey bro … I saw tht I had cld u lst nite… I was high and I don’t rem what I had said or what happened last night… Could u help me out …” With that he left the hope of finding out what happened last night and thought about how to explain to his parents why he was back home so late and why was he wearing someone else’s clothes.
After being blasted by his mom and threatened with never to be let out of the house again and a million other restrictions he suddenly blurted out he needed a ‘Nimbu Pani’ as he was feeling nauseous, his mom immediately darted into the kitchen grumbling. Moms, he thought, no matter how tough they act with you they can never see their kid in any discomfort. After drinking two glasses of 'Nimbu Pani’ he went into the bathroom to shower. He realized that he smelt funny, there was this faint smell of women’s perfume on him, and he could make out that it wasn’t Priya’s, he had spent the entire college sitting behind her and just filling up his lungs with her scent. But he had this stench on him too. “Whose perfume is this? What the fuck happened last night? I don’t remember puking at least”, he thought to himself again, but now he was having bittersweet feelings about last night, ok he wasn’t with Priya last night but he was at least with some girl.

As he stepped out of the bathroom he saw 2 messages waiting for him. First one was Robbie’s.
“You don’t remember ANYTHING at all from last night? Not even calling then meeting me and talking to me?”
“Nope… Srry bro…. what exactly did I say 2 u …. m srry if I said somethin untoward … “ He decided to add the last line remembering how huge Robbie was and how much he hated his guts.
Second was Natasha. She had asked the exact same thing.
“You don’t rem anything from last night Hun? Not even calling me and what happened?
“Ya … Bt only faintly … I was a lil high… Bein farewell n all… Cud v meet sumwhere 2day..”. He decided to lie after remembering that Sunny had called her ‘teri Natasha baby’. “What was that I did last night”, he asked himself again.

*Beep* *Beep*. Robbie’s reply came “Meet me in the SXB at 5 o’ clock”. SXB was this up market sports bar where rich kids like Robbie hung out, and where Middle Class kids like him always thought about going. Natasha had not replied yet, mentally exhausted and still hung over he decided to lie down again.

It was 4 o’ clock when he got up again, he changed and headed to SXB to meet Robbie and get some answers. Robbie was this 6’2’’ built like a bull Sardar from a village near Ludhiana, whose family owned acres of land and numerous mills and sent all the money here to Robbie to buy Mercs, Johhnie Walker Black Labels and enough gifts for any girl he fancied to date. His real name was Sarabhjeet Singh or something, but everyone called him Robbie, especially after he had cut his hair and died his French beard blonde.

He found Robbie playing snooker and waved him, Robbie asked him to sit down and wait till he finished this frame, his tone was cautious, almost hostile. He looked around; the place was full of people like Robbie and smell of Black label and Chicken Tikka. He was only one not drinking and not wearing an Ed Hardy or Gucci t shirt. Robbie finished his frame and came fast, he was ruthless and surgical with his shots, looked like he had been playing snooker since he was 5. He shook hands and straight away started with the question “to tereko kal raat ka kuch bhi yaad nahi hai?”. Varun shook his head.

“Main tereko mila tha raat ko, tune mujhe phone karke pata nahi kya kya kaha tha!”.

Varun panicked” I’m sorry bhaai, main bahut piya hua tha raat ko, mujhe to yaad bhi nahi tujhe phone kara tha raat ko, mujhe to 2 baje ke baad kee koi memory hee nahi hai”
“Aur subah, subah utha tab kuch yaad nahi aaya?”
“Nahi bhaai, subah utha to dekha kee Natasha ke farm house mae ek room mae tha, kapde bhi nahi pehne hue the, baahar nikla to dekha kee Natasha nae Gaadi chod rakhi thee drop karne ke liye ghar, bas tabhi tum dono ka number last dialed mae dekha to message kiya”
“Bina kapdo ke? Sahi bol? Aur Natasha nae gaddi rakhi thee tere liye? Natasha nae kya bola?”
“Kuch nahi, usne bhi yahi pucha kee raat ka kuch yaad hai ya nahi, uske baad koi reply nahi aaya uska”
“Ha ha ha ha” Robbie gave a throaty laugh and patted him on the back, though his hand felt like a sledgehammer. “Chal koi na, bhaiyon ke beech mae ho jaata hai aisa, koi gal nahin. Daaru piyega?”

At some other time Varun would have given in the temptation of Black Label in a Swanky bar, but right now even the word whisky made him wanna throw up. He thought Robbie wasn’t all that bad a guy, he had misjudged him in college. He hesitatingly asked”Nahi thanks, wo ghar jaana hai abhi waapas, fir kabhi piyenge. Par maine kya kaha tha raat ko, aur mere kapde kahan gaye? Aur main Natasha ke room mae tha, aur usne meri liye gaadi bhi rakhi, meri itni acchi nahin hai us se, mereko kuch samajh mae nahi aa raha”
“Ha ha ha ha” Robbie gave an even booming laugh this time and said “Lo, college ke sabse top item kee le lee, aur yaad tak nahi tujhe. Beta Natasha ke saath soya tha tu kal raat ko, kapde to kya kitne logo to faad diya usne bistar mae. Par tereko like karti hai mujhe lagta hai, subah bhi tereko bhuli nahi.”
“Kya! Abey paagal ho…. I mean, nahi yaar, mujhe nahi lagta, usne 3 saal college mae kabhi baat tak nahi kari mujhse. Fir kal raat ko suddenly? Aur maine raat ko tujhe kyun phone kiya tha?”
“Condom maangne ke liye , tereko Natasha nae hee kaha hoga , usko maluum hai kee mere pe hamesha hote hai. Par kal raat ko sab khatam ho gaye the, to tu bhadak gaya, maa behan kee gaaliyan de dee mujhe! Aur rahi baat suddenly kee, to beta ye daaru cheez he aisi hai, isko pee ke saari Parvati Paris Hilton ban jaati hai, fir Natasha kee kya baat hai. Tereko hamesha like karti thee wo, tune kal raat ko kisi liye phone kara usko aur wo chali aayi. Kitne shot liye kal raat ko? Main to peene ke baad ek hee le pata huun.”

Varun’s face had gone red, part from embarrassment from Robbie’s vivid description, part excitement of sleeping with the most wanted chick in college and part fear that Priya had seen him with Natasha, now he stood no chance with her ever again. He swallowed and looked up to Robbie and said “Pata nahi bhaai, mujhe to kuch bhi yaad nahin hai. Accha main chalta huun, ghar pe bina bataye aaya tha, load aa jayega.”
Robbie got up and said” Chalo koi gal nahin, dono bhaai 2 - 2 peg piyenge kisi din saath baith ke, kuch yaad aaye kal raat kee kahani to mujhe usi waqt phone karna” .
Varun said ok and left. He thought so that explained, the calls, Sunny’s message, the waking up naked, the body pain, the women’s perfume and the sweet behavior of Natasha towards him. His hangover wasn’t any better, he had a headache again and high photosensitivity. He cursed the pharma companies to waste their time researching Cancer and AIDS drugs while there was no cure for a hangover yet. He still wondered about the random number he had called in the night and what was that stench on him. But he didn’t want to think any further, he liked the answers he had got. He could mentally picture Natasha ripping off his clothes in her room. Plus he had slept with Natasha, if that was possible then he was ready to believe in Santa Claus. It was already 7:30 when he got back home. He sneaked back in his room and messaged Sunny.

“Beta kal tere bhaai nae jo kaam kiya hai wo tum 3 saal sirf sochte reh gaye”

After a short while the phone beeped again. Smiling to himself he picked up the phone thinking it was Sunny. “Sunny and the guys are so gonna be jealous of me”, he thought, but it was Natasha.
“Meet me in ‘The Geisha’ at 9 o’ clock”.

{to be continued}

The river, the rock and the boat

It was another of those days when I sat by the river
Or maybe it wasn’t, life’s some clearer sliver.
For today I had no company,
Just my imagination and thought’s quiver.

Today none of my companions turned up,
Alone my thoughts began to gallop.
And I saw the river like I had never before,
Both as a frigid statue and a horse sans stirrup.

It is both fixed and in a way transitory,
So hard to give it a proper allegory.
It has been stuck here for ages,
And for ages it has flowed like a never ending story.

It has been shaped by the earth it flows through,
And it has shaped the earth it has flown in too.
Who controls what I cannot say,
Like our life and our action’s brew.

Does our life shape our actions?
Or is it the other way around?
Or maybe it’s the rock and river story
Each shaping other, both restrained and both unbound.

The real thing is never what you wanted to buy,
Part forged by your will’s hammer, part shaped by milieu’s die.
Even after years your efforts might seem futile,
But see the change in your curt life, bird’s eye.

As I wonder if my life is the rock or the river
I see a fishing boat in the middle quiver.
The brook trying to crush the mighty vessel
And the tiny boat asking something from its mighty giver.

And then all these three things I juxtapose,
And about them, think about a writing a prose.
The river, the rock and the boat,
All entwined eternally and everyone flows.

Dolphin out of Sea

I'm no stranger to moving. Where am I from is a bittersweet question to me. I was born in Udaipur, then moved to Bikaner when I was 4, then moved to Kota when I was 9 , then moved to Bangalore when I was 17 and spend the best 4 years of my life there. Hardly a day goes by when I don't miss Bangalore, I had the best time of my life in Bangalore and I had the worst time of my life in Bangalore. The good times were many, roaming around on Brigade Road, getting drunk in Dhanlakshmi bar, rides on my bike when I felt truly free, spending time with the girl I loved, dancing my now famous (read ridiculed) 'beer dance' in Spinn. They seem blurred and all at once.

But it's the bad times I remember more clearly, I was a complete mess when I had broken up, I couldn't sleep for months, used to drink like a madman, do weird stuff, say mean and uncalled things to my ex, and thought this over and over "What happened, where did I go wrong" and used to listen to Snow Patrol's 'Chasing cars' and 3 doors down's 'Here without you'. I don't know I fared better or worse than most but I know fared. At least I stopped being a trouble in her life, which mattered the most to me, though the pain I think I still carry. I had it all figured out I thought, I was gonna stay in Bangalore for 1 more year till she completed her 5 year course and gonna prepare for MBA staying there. I lied to my parents; but the worse part was I lied to myself that this is the best thing to do. But the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Everybody left Bangalore except me or got busy in their job, the one friend who was gonna stay in Bangalore with me, with whom I had moved in also left, that too without telling me that he was leaving for good. That's when I spent 15 hellish days in that house, I was supposed to prepare for CAT, I used to get up at 12 feeling all groggy and hungover and see the house empty, I all alone, I used to feel like throwing up; many times I almost did too. I tried to study for some time then I used to go to my brother's place to eat lunch and sit there and watch all kinds of nonsense on his TV till he came back, then I would start drinking and continue till I couldn't stand on my feet which would be generally by 4 in the night, then I would drag myself to my flat and go to sleep, I knew that if even for a minute I had to lie awake alone in that house I would go insane. Things went from bad to worse and I decided I couldn't stay in Bangalore any more, my time was up. I called my Mom and said I was coming.

I moved back to Kota again for a year and I swore that I was gonna make something of my fucked up life and not to plan for the future, just take each day as it comes. And it became my signature line that I don't plan for more than a day ahead, but in reality I never stopped planning. In fact I planned for contingencies too now, I was not only 'the man with the plan' but now the man with the plan 'B'. But I just stopped believing and putting my hope in my plans. I felt terribly terribly alone sometimes. I used to drive around alone in my car listening to Bic Runga's 'Drive'. I almost had a relationship there when I was in Kota. I use the word 'almost' because it was like a short term pact of convenience for both of us which broke as soon as she didn't have any need for it, when she moved to Bombay.

Then I moved to Greater Noida again, I had dreamt of going to Bombay and studying in either K J Somaiya or Welingkar, but as fate would have it that didn't happen and I got through Bimtech, I had my reservations and wasn't too pleased even when I joined the college, it felt like a Jail coming from Ramaiah. But what I loved and still miss were the people, even though I was there for just 20 days. I am still good friends with all of them. I lived the real hostel life for the first time and started loving it. That song 'Kabhi Kabhi Aditi' reminds of that phase always, maybe because that when the move had come out. I almost started settling in and making plans, but god decided that the drama in my life was not enough, so one day I got a call from my parents saying that some Ravi Sharma had called from IMI saying that I got through and would I like to join the course. I dismissed it saying that might be some other course of them as the result of the main course was out long before. But the next day I got a mail saying that I was in. I felt happy and sad both at the same time. Happy for getting into a good college and sad for leaving all the new friends and almost settled life.

So after 20 days I moved to Delhi and shacked up at my brother's friend's place, tried to house hunt but didn't make any real efforts. After a week or so one of my classmates said that he is looking for a roommate and said the room is good and all. I said yes without even seeing the room and moved in there. I don't know how I felt, I don't remember, or whether I got any time at all to feel anything after all the work Prof Singhvi was giving us. Then my roommate got through IIM and left. So I found a new place and settled in well. And I still see it in my thoughts, Mikey sitting on the bean bag saying "Arey tum chup karo, 2 peg mae to tum so jaate ho", Khandu spread on the bed saying "Brother ye sab BC band karo aur baalti se meri beer nikaal do". I remember the whole night planning of strategies of AOE and post game analysis.

But as all good things come to an end so did the MBA in delhi and I moved back to Kota again. Spent an uneventful (expect a few stray incidents here and there) 2 and half months there till I got a call from M&M people asking me to come to Mumbai.

Life was never the same again. I was shuttled to Pune from Mumbai, then to Zaheerabad, then to Hyderabad, back to Pune again and then to this place – Calcutta. It's been 5 days here and I haven't got a single day off even though one Sunday and one 'bandh' being in these days. The good thing about this whole trip was the people I got to meet in these cities, my 2 cousins and a friend whom I wanted to meet since long.

In my sales training my trainer classified me as a Dolphin, among other things he said 'To kill a dolphin just remove him from his group and it will die. I am feeling the weight of this sentence lying in my room alone in Calcutta listening to 'Bin tere' from I hate luv storys and worrying about finding a place to stay. It scarily reminds me of my last 15 days of Bangalore.

P.S. – It's not my normal style to confess things this blatantly on my blog, but I can't help it, maybe it is for as Anirudh Singh said "for cathathris". Damn it! I even miss him and his non-sensical Sci-fi!! As I re read the post I realized that this is hastily and emotionally written. But I am not going to change it to my normal style, I want it to be this way so I can look back and see exactly how I felt at this time.

H.I.G.H

I did not choose this life, I was chosen. I was born into a world you might not understand, but I'm sure you must have caught a glimpse of it.

In our world we did not ask "how long are you going to take?" we asked for 'ETA', here things do not get damaged, they get 'compromised'. We call ourselves H.I.G.H (Highly Inspired by Generic lingo of Hollywood)

• When entering a room we do not notice the color of the walls or the expensive paintings, we imagine places for cover if a Gunfight was to break out.
  
• We do not have nicknames we have 'Call Signs'.
  
• We do not wish upon somebody to fall in a ditch that had pissed us off, we wish him to get hit by a Tomahawk missile.
  
• We have a constant fear that the CIA is tapping our phone because we call a lot of girls a 'Bomb'.
  
• We imagine ourselves jumping from the window and landing in the chopper waiting outside during boring meetings.
  
• We actually believe that a car would blow up 20 feet in the air if shot at.
  
• We get MI – 2 music playing in our head every time we overtake somebody on the road.
  
• We expect all Chinese people to know kung-fu.
  
• We wonder from time to time if we all are actually living in The Matrix.
  
• We consider the possibility of a conspiracy by evil space aliens every time our car keys go missing.
  
• If John Rambo would be able to kill John McClain is a perfect dinner time conversation.
  
• We know it for a fact that all Natural Disasters, Terrorist threats and Alien attacks are going to be in either New York of L.A.
  
• For us, all Russians men are evil and women femme fatales.
  
• We keep telling other people that why our next door neighbor could be a serial killer.
  
• We worry about leaving forensic evidence behind every time we take out the car without our Dad's / Big Brother's permission.
  
• Our birthday wish list always has Ethan Hunt's exploding chewing gum or James Bond's X Ray Sun glasses.
  
• We never say 'best of luck' we say 'May the force be with you', there is no 'work done' but 'Mission Accomplished' for us, we do not have 'Secrets' but information that is 'Classified', there is no 'see you soon' but a 'I'll be back' and we never say 'good bye' it's always 'Over and Out'.
  

The Big Bang Theory(s)

WARNING: Long, meandering, incomprehensible and scatterbrained post.

I am going to discuss multiple theories here. All of them are too small to warrant an entire post, but too great to keep it from the world.

Well actually most of them are either already established or just plain common sense or too absurd to be even called a theory. But this is my blog, and I can write about any damn thing that I want. And as Sawyer said in LOST "There ain't squat you can do about it"! Anyways there is no 'Logic Clause'. So here goes –

Theory 1 : Delhites are the Americans of India

Now you have to agree with me on this one. And there is plenty of proof.

First take the obsession of them with everything BIG. And I am not even talking about parts of female anatomy, which is true too though. Big cars/SUVs, Big house, Big Farm House, Big Malls, Big Diamonds, Big biceps, Big portions of food, Big weddings, Big everything. The obsession of Big is equally evident in the Americans. They too want to Supersize everything. If Van der Rohe would have been here, he would have cried, nobody even heard of 'less is more' here.

Second like the Americans think that the world doesn't exist outside their country, Delhites think that India doesn't exist outside Delhi, when talking about rural areas they talk about Najafgarh and Nangloi, when hypothetically opening a new store they will open one in Khan Market and one in GK. I'll not be surprised if someone named Chitraranjan Park instead of Cherapunji as the wettest place in India. Most Delhites wouldn't have ever stayed outside Delhi more than a few days on holiday but they can affirm very confidently that all South Indians are 'Madrasis', everybody in Bengal eats rice and fish thrice a day and everybody from U.P. is a thief. Like all Colombians are drug dealers, all Indians are taxi drivers and all people from Middle East are terrorists for Americans. And despite being totally unaware of world outside they are quick to claim that their place is 'the best'.

There is no dearth of 'Dumb Blondes' in Delhi, who sport hand bags of 20,000 and have an IQ of 20. I personally know one of them. Delhi like America has no culture, it's a mish mash of various people who came and settled over there, but they don't hesitate for a second to call anybody new as an outsider. Both lack taste, grace and civility. They too are obsessed by security, numerous times I have been groped by security guards while first entering the city, then entering a mall and then entering the multiplex in it. Even after having the highest security cover they still continue to be paranoid. Both are experts in Mass Hysteria, think about the monkey man of Delhi and the UFO sightings of US. And don't even get me started on the prevalence of gun-culture in both these places.

And to top all that you have the Jaats of Delhi. They are under educated, coarse and hugely built. They live in ghettos; move out in packs and always looking to get into a fight. Now where have you seen that other than Delhi? The Niggers… Oops I mean the African American community of the US of A.

But one last thing and I hate to say it. But Delhi people like Americans have worked hard to reach the position they are and in some ways deserve the snobbishness they have. They are aggressive, they take risks, aspire big and they get it. And I have to give it to them for being successful.

Theory 2 : If you wanna live forever, die young.

Do you know why Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, James Dean and Kurt Cobain are the Icons they are? Well yes, they were terrific at what they did, but many other people were too. But very few have had this unending fan following by the youth of many generations. Because they died young. They did not live long enough to fall from grace, to let people see their downfall, there singing out of tune, the mudslinging, eccentricities and scandals every celebrity goes through. They got frozen in time at their peak. And also nobody talks bad about you once you are dead.

I was thoroughly convinced of it from long, but when I saw somebody wearing a T Shirt in McLeodganj which said King of Pop (1958 – 2009) with Michael Jackson's photo on it , that nailed it for me. Just by dying he went from being 'Wacko Jacko' to the king of pop in a matter of days. Trust me if Hrithik Roshan would have died just after 'Kaho na pyaar hai' he would have been the most popular Hindi film star of this era. But he didn't, he went to star in lousy movies like Fiza, Aap Mujhe Achche Lagne Lage etc etc. Though he is still popular, but everybody knows that the fanfare of KNPH days has certainly died.

So as Batman said in 'The Dark Knight' "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain".

Theory 3 : Nobody tells the truth when they are drunk.

'Peeke aadmi hamesha sach bolta hai' is one of the biggest myths in the world that has to be defunked. I , in fact am a glibber liar when I am drunk, I can lie so easily when drunk that I sometimes I don't even realize I just lied. You can believe in the Yeti, UFOs, Area 51 (I believe in Area 51), Bermuda Triangle, or we living inside The Matrix, but people don't lie when they are drunk is certainly a thing you shouldn't believe.

I think this belief stems from three things, firstly who either get in confessional mode after drinking or say things which they otherwise would not have said in those social settings. Which makes people misinterpret the phenomena as people being incapable of lying when they are drunk.

Secondly by the portrayal of drunks in the media and popular culture, by Johnnie Walker saying "Aaj apan piyela hai, aaj apan sab sach bolega", by Anupam Kher giving Johnny Lever 'Sach kee dawaai' and then a drunk Johnny Lever telling him everything about his son (Salman Khan) in the movie 'Jab Pyar kisi se hota hai'.

And lastly this lie has been perpetrated by drinkers themselves who want to lie convincingly. I have heard many a lies, many a times, in many a bars starting with the statement "Dekh bhaai, abhi piya huun, islilye ekdum sach bol raha huun".

The TRUTH (notice the word truth in all caps) is that alcohol de-activates the part of the brain which is responsible for inhibitions and self control. That's why people start dancing on table tops, speaking in English are ready to have sex with random strangers when drunk. Because the inhibition stopping them from doing this is de-activated. And this sometimes culminates in them saying things they otherwise would have been hesitant to say, like asking a girl out or telling someone they like them, and so on, I'm sure you get the drift. But this does not mean they are telling the truth, they can lie if they have to, and still care about the consequences.

Another reason for the sometime sudden barrage of truth when drunk is that people, when they are high, do or say the first thing which pops in their head. Which in most cases is the truth, though in case of glib liars it could be a lie as well. The impulsive action is the reason people get overtly angry, friendly or emotional when drunk, because they do not restrain their first impulses which they otherwise would have.

Now, not directly connected to mind blowing theory that I discussed above but important enough to be mentioned nonetheless is the fact is that people don't change when they are drunk, that is not too much. A man who always gets violent every time he is drunk is violent by nature, the guy who starts speaking in English when high actually wanted to speak in English all along, he was just too conscious of himself, the guy who asked you out might have had genuine feeling for you, he just gathered the courage now when he was drunk. And this here is especially for the women who crib about the fact that there guy 'never calls them when he is sober'. And he only' remembers them when he is drunk' and all. Well he wants to call all the time, he is just tied down by social stigma, by his own lack of courage, or by the fear that you might disapprove of his calling. So don't be irritated that he called when he was drunk, be happy that you were the person whom he wanted to talk the most but couldn't.

Theory 4 : Our actions do not create our Image, our Image creates our actions.

While counter intuitive as first, this is a fact. Or maybe it could have been that in the initial few days we created an image, and we liked what people said about us. So rest of the time we divert our energies to reinforce that image.

But most of us have some hypothetical image of ourselves, or the person we wanna be in the eyes of the other people and then we start putting on the show for them. Sometimes the show goes for so long and gets so appreciated that we start forgetting who we are actually. Everybody wants to be well liked, and there's nothing wrong with it, in fact I think the whole societal structure is based on people being nice to each other. But the problem arises when we become someone because we just wanted to be someone, anyone, someone different, someone noticeable. And then the image starts eating you up.

I see two of the examples very close to me, first is myself. Having the image of 'cool and carefree' in engineering college I couldn't muster up the courage of saying "no, I have to study" even once. Every time anybody asked me to come along for a drink, or for something else I couldn't refuse, because it would be bad for my image, the image I thought got created because I was carefree. I became the de-facto guy drinking company for anybody who wanted to drink in the exams, because I never said no, so Monday I drink with someone , Tuesday with someone else, Wednesday with someone else, and so on, so that I was pretty much drinking whole week while others were studying for the rest of the six days. And it did hurt my studies, big time. Other is my elder brother, having earned the nickname 'Raja Saab' he did his best to upkeep it, even when broke he did not curb his royal life style. When he had 500 bucks with him he could buy a bottle of Blender's Pride for everyone, when he had 200 he would a bottle of Old Monk, when 50 he would buy a pack of cigarettes. I told him many a times to say no and be miserly for sometime as he was broke time and again, he listened and agreed to me but never followed it. Why? Because it did not go with his image. After a while our Image consumed us. Our Image was not a representation of us, we were a representation of our Image!

Theory 5 : All relationships are doomed from the start.

Now call me a cynic, unromantic, non believer or just plain stupid. But you have the see the premise on which the theory is based. These are the facts and they are irrefutable –

The guy dresses the best for the first date, takes the women to some insanely expensive place, he is thoughtful of the little gestures like opening doors, pulling out the chair, complimenting her clothes.

As the first date leads to the courting period the guy messages her 40 times a day, picks her call at 2 AM, serenades her with songs, makes an effort to get along all her friends, relatives and her little eccentricities, sits though chick flicks, tries to even impress her dog, eats Thai food even though he hates it. Tries to look genuinely interested in the story that how her ribbon came off in when she was on stage in her third standard.

She tries to look her best when going out with him, calls him 10 times a day to say that she thought about him, searches and sends him 30 ‘lovey – dovey’ messages every day , stands his loud mouth friends and cigarette breath, laughs at his lame jokes, drops all her prior commitments to meet him, goes to auto expo and tries to understand what is variable cam timing DOHC engine is, gets up at 4 AM to wake him up for his exam.

Have you seen the ad in which the guy when runs of balance on his mobile phone picks up his bike and drives quite a distance just to say ‘Good Night' to his girl friend. People actually do all that stupid stuff when they first start going around.

But it doesn’t take a genius to see that these things are unsustainable and sooner or later, the girl has to tell the guy that he stinks of cigarette and guy has to throw up his hand in air and state that he simply hates Thai food. Then the whole “You have changed a lot”, “You did not used to be like this”, “You have become so un-romantic now” thing starts. And there is no stopping this,

But the paradox is without the act on the first date you wouldn’t get the second and without faking some things on second you wouldn’t get the third. If a tell a girl on the first date that her green nail paint looks weird, and you have actually no interest in how her dad took her to Thailand be sure you would never be seeing her again. Similarly if a girl tells that she has to study after being asked out the second time or turns up wearing her spects and sweat pants then that’ll be the last time she ever was asked out. It is like bait you have to dangle to catch the fish, but you cannot keep her feeding the tunas.

Theory 6 : The Playboys now were once hopeless Romantics.

I’ll keep it simple and short for the last theory. The general theory of relativity was short too, just only 5 scientists in the world could understand at that time when Einstein had put it forward.

Experiment – A guy likes a girl very much. He is a hopeless. They start going around. Everything is going well. He thinks they are headed for some kind of ‘happily ever after’. But it doesn’t happen. The girl leaves him. He cries and mourns her and drowns himself in booze and grief, crying ‘why did she do it to me’. The guy gets so scarred that he is then fearful of all commitment from now. He always gets into ‘casual relationship’ and then ditches the girl moves on. He is afraid that if he gets attached to some girl and if she left him too then he wouldn’t be able to stand the second heart break. So he leaves them before they have a chance to leave him.

Observation – He has become, what people like to call a Playboy.

Conclusion – All these so called Players were big time, syrupy Romantics once, who just got their heart broken very bad.

At times like these I miss her - 2

At times like these I miss her.
It’s a full moon out here,
And nobody around me.

And I remember like I saw her,
Glistening in the moonlight;
With my hands wrapped around her.

Sitting on my roof at night,
I see the distant world below me,
Too far away to harm us.

There is no sound at this time,
Just the night breeze,
And the music you play in my head.

Then I bring you to my lips,
Flick the water glistening on your body,
And take a bittersweet drink of you.

For a brief moment we are one.
I feel you burning inside my body;
I feel you freezing in my hand,

But she is not with me now no more,
Locked away in some place cold and dark,
Waiting for me to let her breathe once more.

For me to bring your cool skin to my cheek,
For me to see you in all your beauty,
Robed in nothing but the water and moonlight.

Wishing to make my head swim,
And to forget who or where I am.
For the night, claim me as yours.

Let’s leave the world behind,
All head and heartaches alike.
And live, live for one night.

But alas the clock has struck 8 on my Cinderella story,
And the tale of the unfinished love continues;
Because I can’t have any ‘Gin on the rocks’ now!!
:-P