Some Thoughts

I won’t call you a human if you didn’t have at least one regret in life. Planned decisions or a sudden leap of faith, a regret often squiggles its way in the due course of time, just to constantly remind us about what went wrong and how we should have selected the alternate way. No matter what the age or stage in life we are in, as we begin to face the consequences of our actions, the horrendous feeling of a regret begins to trickle in, often leaving as guilty as charged. Wrong lover, wrong life-partner, wrong friend, wrong career, wrong investment, wrong advice, wrong whatever you feel like, the sources of a regret can be endless. Gems of questions such as, “What was I thinking?”, “Why didn’t I see it coming?”, “I should have known better!” and “Why do I end up making such decisions?”, hound us day and night, and we pledge to never make the same mistake again and pray for better sense to always prevail. We are ashamed, embarrassed, and full of regrets, just because a situation didn’t ...

Fleeting thoughts. Random memories. Long lost virtues. One brightly lit and crowded compartment. Who would have thought the daily commute to workplace would perhaps turn into an involuntary session with the therapist? But who is the therapist here? Your mind! Come to think of it, in the contemporary times, the Metro is the only sphere of space and time, where we find ourselves days after days with nothing to tackle except for our own self. If we were to separate the omnipresent mobile phone from its owner, we will have a patient who now finds himself or herself lost in the maze of his or her life. Living and dead relatives, their idiosyncrasies, one'e own achievements and regrets and what not. As if a pandora's box of memories has been opened without the luxury of choosing what to select for the next analysis. Thoughts appear on their and bring the corresponding mysterious smile or an uncomfortable shift around the seat.

Phew! I can't believe after how long am I blogging! Maybe after a gap of a year or more! Well, a lot has changed in the past one year. Traffic? For sure! So how come am I blogging about traffic tonight? Well, for starters, it had been in my mind for long and is something that I observe everyday. To say that traffic has increased exponentially or by leaps and bounds will not sound surprising any more. We all know about it and daily experience it. But what we don't analyze perhaps or take for granted is the accompanying noise pollution because of it. The word Noise Pollution sounds lofty and esoteric, doesn't it? As if why should we even spare a minute or so for this type of pollution when there are far more pressing issues to address and act upon? Just lower the volume of the TV and there you have controlled the noise pollution! But what about the noise that you constantly listen to while walking on the roads or crossing a street? I am finding it increasingly difficult to...

The other day I was bored. Plain and simple. Bored. Yes, I didn't even feel like lifting my little finger. The entire universe seemed to had come to a standstill because I was just not in the mood. Just about every breath made me realize the futility of that day. It was a sort of day when your mind would like to believe that it was better being fast asleep and present in a land where melted chocolate flows out from the taps and the greatest joy of life is to....... ( I would leave that to your mind to finish, Dear Reader, if you exist, that is!) The day when you just feel like plonking yourself on the bed as if a thousand weights of boredom have been tied to you but not before turning on the ceiling fan. You see, I was bored but not hallucinated to forget to turn on the fan and sweat on a hot sultry evening! Now, it is very hard to describe. People say that dogs make for terrific friends but I would like to declare that there is nothing more loyal than a ceiling fan.The ceiling ...

There is a saying in Hindi, "यहाँ  वहाँ  की  बातें ", I guess, this statement aptly describes this post for the time being. For a long time, I had been wondering what to write about. Not that I had hit a writer's block but still I wasn't convinced enough to turn a speck of thought into a full fledged blog. Now, when I had a little too many of these tiny speks, I felt that the time was right to give it a vent. "Vent" itself would be a wrong word to use since these thoughts are not agonizing. They are just, well, thoughts, that creep in your mind at any given time of the day or night. You might giggle, snigger, worry or laugh at them but they are thought provoking nevertheless. Ok, lets start with umm, cold coffee? Yes, your regular mundane mug or glass of cold coffee for which I have a new found respect. There is nothing better than drowning one at the end of a hot exhausting day. I like mine with not even a single crystal of sugar, just a bit of ice an...

Long long ago, when Ponds was the only cold cream we knew of and being gay meant being blissful, humans used to write letters. Real heartfelt and soulful letters and their purpose was to make the addressee , mind you not the receiver, swoon with delight and write a similar letter in return. The sort of letters that lead to over pumping of heart and the brain indeed feels dizzy without any shot of alcohol. The sort of letters that make one forget the end result of this much sought after affair- dirty nappies and harrowing nursery admission interviews. Mr.Letter Writer was perhaps a hormone stuck young man, who had the sense to involve a few emotions in his envelope bound creation because he kind of knew the brain structure of the opposite sex or simply put, he had spent 26 years with his mother. Miss Letter Writer was in definite awe of him and whatever he wrote, was destined to be treated as King Solomon's treasure. Years later, when the loo flap was still up and loo organ increasi...

I must confess, rains are my darlings! There is nothing like a good natural rain-soak, to drive the blues away. Countless Hindi movie directors subscribe to my view. Haven't we all seen the protagonists getting drenched in the rain, in the most poignant moments of the story line, or the amorous couple getting sensual, just to make the most of this weather. For me, it's the sight of lush greenery during this season, that does the trick. Even the regular dusty parks begin to look bountiful in nature's beauty, thanks to a shower or two.There is nothing more therapeutic than quietly observing the tiny rain droplet delicately sliding along the leaf, only to make a plop sound in the puddle right below the plant or admiring the waxy texture of a glistening rain soaked rose. Cloudy and windy days, the fragrance of wet soil and the sound of a puddle being ripped apart by the tyres of a vehicle, cheer the kid in me. The joy of making paper boats and making them float in a makes...

You know you have become a big city boy when the roads no longer appear like meandering snakes and feel disappointed if a certain venue is not distant enough for a car ride. When you miss the hustle and bustle even in a charmingly calm environment of a hill station, when you feel drawn to the mystique of every coffee shop and have all the time in the world to savour it's ambience, concept and of course- the menu- on a shoestring budget though! When you judge and evaluate a market with the omnipresent brands, showrooms, roadside stalls, hawkers and the perennial parking problem. When discovering each and every monument within a city becomes a passion and the where-to-meet-this-time dilemma always has a new answer. When reminiscences about good times always include a popular landmark of the city and when every memorable or disastrous date finds itself unfolding within the comfort of an air conditioned mall, restaurant or for that matter-the very metro station. When the ease of reach...

Am X, mind you , not XYZ. And no, am not an anonymous person with ulterior motives. Am simply X, the twenty fourth alphabet . Few alphabets have enjoyed the relentless pursuit and notoriety associated with something mysterious and unfathomable as I have. My journey begun in the Maths class in general and Algebra in specific. That was one roller-coaster ride. Just about any unknown quantity or value was given to me,including the number of bananas in second standard to the area of the minuscule space, sandwiched between two gigantic triangles in senior school. I was turned and twisted to form temporary associations with frivolous numbers which would ditch me at the last moment to give me a random value, followed by a heartwarming sigh from the students, glad at being able to throw me out of their way to score that perfect ninety plus score. I felt like a patient being taken to the operation theatre and various surgeries ranging from addition to division and differentiation to integration...

January has gone and here comes my favorite, February. Not associated with the year beginning formalities, liberated from all the useless resolutions and giving everyone a chance to love, yet again, February is the new year for me. The ambivalent feeling of entering a new year replete with all the hype and hoopla is slightly unnerving for a gentle soul who likes to take things as slow and and sweet as they can get. Ding! The clock stuck 12 and there you go- bizarre hugs, haywire cheers and half baked wishes. Really how can you call January the beginning of a new year when it begins on such a tawdry note. Like a bureaucrat handling all the official festivities, January solemnly receives all the new year cards and wishes only to give way to February, my sweetheart. Ah! How I love this casual month. The receding chill, the feeling of finally settling into a new year(yet again!) and serenading nature's bounty, February is a sensible friend who never goes overboard. Subtle and unde...

Some facts first. 1. I am not a die-hard Karan Johar fan. 2. I like people with threaded and tweaked eyebrows. 3. Phoebe Buffay is the woman of my dreams. So, what do you do on a Sunday evening, when you have had enough of movies,dining out sessions and the very sight of a mobile phone, reminds you of a girlfriend who is constantly haranguing you about the anniversary details of her beloved aunt? My pick-the TV remote.And when all you get to see is a couple of scheming and plotting women, with layers of pancake make-up,in bungalows fit enough to be a football stadium, lets face it- a glossy set, with a metropolitan look and comfortable couch with mugs of steaming coffee, having bimbettes as guests does make you want to thank God for making Karan Johar, the voluble, effervescent and not the least effusive , quintessential metrosexual with coiffured hair. Now, I do judge a book by it's cover but not to offend the age-old perceptions, I did watch an episode and this is what I did-lau...