…and the boy cried… (The stories he told…)

 

“Fuck off” shouted the guy whose phone call conversation was getting interrupted by the little bugger who was constantly begging for some money. John watched it and walked on towards his flat, thinking about what has happened in the past 2 hours.

He had skipped a movie to do his share of ‘good work’ by visiting a slum with a few friends who worked with an NGO and he was really happy for that. While meeting those poor souls, he moved towards a particular tiny house, which should have been better called a container of people. There he saw priyanka, involved in a conversation with a woman who appeared as if she was staring at infinity.

As he approached nearer, he looked into her arid eyes and heard her saying “  Achha hai mar gaya…Doctor bola ki achha khana nahi mila isliye mara…par kam se kam ab main kaam par to jaa paungi…uski tabiyat ki vajah se bade ka bhi khayal  nahi rakh pa rahi thi..achha hi hai chala gaya upar wale ke paas…”. He met a lot of people after that but John still felt stuck in that very moment.

He was sitting in the corner of his room with heaviness in his head and suddenly he broke into tears. As soon as the tear touched the ground, he felt a shrinking sensation within himself and understood that no amount of tears were enough to pacify the mother’s burning heart.

Too afraid to move he stayed in that corner and let the night pass away.

The stories he told…

 

It’s strange that at times writers run out of thoughts and ideas in spite of the very best events that are going around them. I had also been facing the similar issues lately in the presence of the several topics like Gaddafi, Egypt, a new super awesome girl-friend, a friend who wants to be a writer but every time faces a problem because of his distaste towards sitting and writing, another guy who chews in an irritating way and when told not to masticate like that, replies that he does not masticate, he has a girlfriend!

So in short, the situation was pretty much alarming and the ideas were not willing to quit their comfortable stay in the writer’s block. I knew that the mind was getting distracted as there were a few officials things that had to be done beforehand but I couldn’t find a way out as I am not the best guy when it comes to technical stuff and as a matter of fact I am not even the best among the weaker breed.  So I preferred to neglect the work for the time being(this solution always works) and take an unpaid leave mentioning illness and went to a village 200 KMs from Indore to stay in a forest department rest-house for seven days.

There i met this old man, at least thrice of my age, who embarrassingly took my suitcase from me and took it to my room. Everyone who lived nearby called him by the name ‘Doctor’ and later on I came to know that he used to treat snake-bite victims. This man had a strange yet a magnetic personality and was an excellent cook too.

“What do you do sa’ab?” Doctor asked to me while watching me eat my dinner.

I told him that I work in an IT firm (and used the term computer to make it more relevant for him) and a part time writer too.

“Oh, so you write stories?” he said.

I tried to tell him that I write stories and at times articles, essays etc and about my writer’s block too.

“So you can’t think of any new stories? I also have some stories. Do you want to listen to a few?” he said

In my go-ahead lied the fate of the night and the fulcrum of the stories soon to follow…

(Stay tuned)

My experiments with writing!!(crap-alert)

 

Below is something which I have written in 3 sittings with totally different states of mind…its completely random in nature…and the mood swings are quite visible in writing! Don’t curse me after reading this! Its js an experiment to observe what I already know!

 

My experiment with writing!

 

The behavioral patterns…people in love…human nature…

yes you got it…thats what I am talking about…. Let me try to describe a few very general and recurring-in-nature scenes

Scene  1-

Person-1- Dude, u seem to be in love wid her!

Person-2-Me..wat…cmon dude…me…wat…man no…she’s a fren…n den she has a lot of options…why would she lv me?(wud she?:(  )

Scene 2-

P1-Dude, wats the time?

P2-oh!time? u mean in the watch which ‘xyz’(the gal) gave me…silly gal!

P1-(errr…time?)

Scene 3-

P1- Dude, whom were you talkin to?

P2- ’xyz’ called….23 mins dude…she’s got sm time!…talked about ….blah blah….(goes on for another 23 mins)

P1- (I m sorry I asked but it was whom not what…)

ok..thats enough i guess. so whats my point?

Love is beautiful?

Love and insanity has similar patterns?

 Love is funny?

None. What ever i wrote above was something i wanted to write about and if u don’t wanna read then this is the point where u can very well click on close button or put some other address in the adress bar and press enter…huh!

oh! It seems like you are still reading…k go ahead…

By now you must be wondering, what I am wondering that why did I start writing this and where is it going?

To be frank, even I have got no idea. But as this article started with love, lets continue on the same line… So what happens when after a few months, the thrill and excitement moves out of the relationship? And is it just a loss of thrill or something much bigger than that? Well as it appears to me it’s a loss of individuality that takes place and while you are high on ‘love’ you fail to notice it and it’s too late when u actually notice it. You stop dressing the way you like to ..coz ..oh no!…Ur love doesn’t like you that way!! You stop enjoying with your friends coz your friends and the things that they do are weird according to your partner. You become paranoid and want to kill all the gay-grasshoppers who want to inter-specie-rape you! No seriously!! weird but true!!

People can easily say that love is meant to be like that and individuals in love undergo some frictionless changes and lose themselves in each other(YAWNnn..). I wouldn’t fight that one, but it’s just that for some time they lose themselves in each other and then they lose it completely. This also brings me to another aspect of love which is break-ups!!

From my own experiences and from the ones I have observed I can say that love starts and ends in a very funny way!! As I have described the beginning already, let us go for the end!

Breakup 1( My fav)

Boy-  ” i hv realised in lst six months, what love really is!”.

Gal- ” well dats ok sweetheart except for one thing… that i hv nt loved u in past six months”

Boy- “aye!!”. :X

he he … lv is funny!

Breakup 2

Gal- He doesn’t want us to be together. He tells me not to be with you.

Boy- Who the fuck is he?

Gal- (doesn’t say anything…just points her finger upwards)

Boy- What? Some guy who lives upstairs?

Gal- God….!

Boy- (Ran away from the freak!!)

Breakup 3 (Fastest one)

Gal calls- Hello!

Boy- hi! (the boy had a big crush on the gal for a long time)

Gal- Listen I think I was wrong in not accepting your love. I had a breakup with arun just now and if you want we can be together.

Boy- What? Wow..i mean…r u …really?

Gal- Wait wait…Arun is calling me…(puts the call on hold)

After a 10 mins ecstasy…she unholds the call agn…

Gal- I am sorry! I just patched up with Arun. I think we are just friends and we should be friends!(hungs up)

Breakup 4

Boy calls me- Dude! You have to write a breakup message for me. I want to end up with my gal. I have had enough.

Me- Y don’t u write it yourself?

Boy- Fuck u! cant u do that much for me…blah blah…(emotional atyachar)

I write it and send 2 him.

Boy calls  again- Fuck u! she understood that u wrote it…Saale BC..u cant even write a gud break up message!!(hangs up!!)

But yeah the breakup happens!

Breakup 5 (Not technically a breakup but worth mentioning J )

Boy- Writes a big love-letter to girl

Gal- Replies saying that I am busy, I will call in eve.

Boy- Waits and waits!

Gal calls- Are u crazy? What was that mail? Anyways I am going to watch a movie. We can talk later! Bye!

So that’s all the crap that I could write without having a preset direction in my mind. And if you are actually reading this then you have been blessed by grass-fairy and now in case you suffer/fall in/are in love, you wouldn’t be raped by homo-sexual grass-hoppers!!

 Aarghhh…leave me….aah…ooph…grrhh…sheh!!!

Shit! M sorry the grass-fairy’s blessing doesn’t work! That bitch!!

-Pras

I QUIT WRITING POEMS!

Note: If you have started reading this note then you have to make 5 other people to go through the same torture or else an angel dies in heaven.

Here goes,

(Donno why it happens with me, but again I got myself in a crazy train journey, and I m calling it crazy coz of the crazy person I met(or was forced to meet). Below is the description of the same…)

Nothing interesting was happening so I sat facing the gal sitting on a distant seat and started writing a few lines just to get her attention( Don’t ever try this trick…lamest of all…in the end of the ride I came to know about my stupidity ). So I wrote …

Wish I was the air,

And played with your hair,

U move, U see, U incept and fill,

My head with a sabbatical will….

U see, i am not a poet in any retard’s far-fetched thought, I just do it coz it’s easy to pose by putting some rhyming words in the end of some sentences. So as i was busy finding some interesting words to continue my so called rhyming, gals’ attention catching smooth tool, more popularly known as a poem, suddenly a voice caught my attention.

” Air, Hair..fill, will. Is this a poem? Why do people write these idiotic things?” the guy lying on the upper berth said.

Though I was infuriated by his comment, I still tried to avoid an argument by saying ” Its an expression of feelings, but then again it’s a free world, U r free to have your own perception and opinion”

“Oh…feelings…hmmm..And what sort of feelings can be described in a …poem?”

Without smelling the intended sarcasm in the voice, I replied” Ah… Any feeling man! Love, hate, jealousy, pride…anything. Tell me the best feeling you had in life and I will write a poem about it!!”

He said” And it can be any feeling?”

“Yeah sure .Just name the best feeling you had”

“okay… well… when I pee and suddenly a cool breeze hits me and makes me shiver for an instant…I just love that feeling”

Me-( Blink Blink)

He- (Blink Blink)

After a ridiculously long pause of 10 seconds he said “So r u going to write about it?”

Me- “Look man…whoever you are…I was never interested in talking to you. So u can just stop making fun of me and let me write”

He-” Dude u got me wrong…I really don’t get it…u asked me about the best feeling I had…I told u..I am sorry if it was disconcerting in any way”

Me- “Man.. c’mon!!..u mean that was your best feeling”

He – “err…yeah.”

Me- “Okay ..ok…forget about it…just tell me about the best moment u had in your life…and I will write a poem about it…(hopefully)”

He- “The best moment… u mean when I was really elated.”

Me- “Yup! Same”

He- “Well..I was in a hostel…and we guys had to share a toilet there…once I was really in a hurry to get relieved but a guy pushed me and got into it first…so for next 2 minutes I sang National Anthem outside to make him come out and let me use the toilet first…loved that moment”

Me- (Blink Blink)

He- (Blink Blink)

After another stupefying  pause…I closed the note book and said- “I was kidding man…I am not a poet”

Disappointed, he replied- “Oh..I really thought that u were a poet…no one has ever written a poem about me…  ..anyways it was nice knowing u… first let me use the toilet…then we will continue our conversation once I return..”

He walks away.

I throw the pen out of the window.

The gal sitting on the distant seat exchanged a glimpse wid me.

P.S- Not the end of the story… Coming soon “I QUIT WRITING”…just wait for the guy to come back from the toilet!!

P.P.S- Why was the ‘poem idea’ lame for attempting on that gal? Wait for the next post…the ride is not over yet.

P.P.P.S-

Long wait, an err,

Inflated bladder,

A breeze and the reducing tension,

A shiver and a moment of elation.

Who cares!!!

Just a few random thoughts and queries….

How come these days gals like to call themselves ‘bitch’…no more an abuse…more of a style statement…recently a fren who has been continuously livin in metro cities said…”such a fuckin sluty bitch i have become”….yeah sure…

How the word ‘fuck’ has been bcmn the coolest pre-adjective to everything…”fuckin awesome”…”fuckin retard”…. that wrd is really fuckin catchy…

Am i really the living proof that god knows about cloning and tried it on himself?

Do we really need to go out wen ever it rains to find the leading lady of our lives…coz movies hv really filled up my head that there wud b a beautiful gal dancing wid sm kids…waitin for me…in the rains…After 10 colds and a lot of soaked clothes…m really starting to lose my faith in movies..

Is there something fishingly magical about the spaniards and 2010….fifa…motogp…wimbledon…tourdefrance….sm thing really paul-y abt it? (hey sry abt dat…lotsa thngs written abt paul…had 2 mention atleast smthng abt him)

Did Enrique really sleep with 4000 gals in his life as my flat mate says?(one gal a day makes it more than 10 years…)

So is enrique  really the living proof that god knows about cloning and tried it on himself?

Is der someone in this world who is visiting my blog or is it js my own visits from different systems which is increasing the hits?(kindly confirm by commenting)

If I write something sarcastic, should i really put it under sm ‘sarcastic’ category? dude…blah blah blah…i was sarcastic…yeah

Do I know how to end this post…seems so random…bt newayz…order alwayz comes after randomness….errr…randomness alwayz comes after order?….wateva…who cares these days!!!!

Beautiful Eyes

What am I going to do without you?

He felt completely devastated.

But why? what went wrong?

A few desperate posthumous questions on the perimeter of a centreless circle.

He felt like his heart was taken out by someone, raped and smothered by two hands with the blood flowing through the arms.

A tear from his agonized eye found its way through his cheek like an unstoppable scream.

And she exclaimed  ’Dont cry love. You have got beautiful eyes. Dont hurt them for me. I don’t deserve your pain’

She slowly walked away while his heart was still lying der… on the pathway…raped and smothered.

Alter Ego

 

He started writing about her sometime back. Shu, her name is. She was an interesting girl. An interesting character, I mean. She had been dissembling with others for a long time. It was such a long time that she couldn’t even understand that with whom she was dissembling? Others or herself. But when she came to him, to his imagination, he already knew  that she will be past those follies of hers. But he never had a hint that he would lose the control over her. What others’ words couldn’t do, her silence could, very easily, piercing through his ears of grief. Rather than he shaping her through his imagination, she would start shaping his imagination.” What would she say to me?” or “How would she react if someone did this to her?” were kind of the questions that pre-occupied his mind. 

He would ask himself “Would she have liked me if I met her?” and then would hate himself, not because he wagered at a coin toss at an infinite distance but for the sense of pity he had for himself. 

A day before his marriage he sits at his desk in a desperate attempt of trying to complete Shu. His thoughts shadowed by the immense restlessness in his head, stopping the ink from turning a bud into a twig. He closes his eyes just to find her sitting in a less lit corner of her imagination like a dark angel. He walks towards her and stops at a distance. 

He bends down,sighs and says “Shu, I couldn’t complete you.”  

She smiles subtly and says in an echoing voice “Byja, was it me whom you were trying to complete?  “. After a pause she said again “End the tyranny of the past over your heart. If you can take a leave from your romanticism then why not quit working for fear? It’s not that you are afraid of losing me. Is that even possible, Byja? Contemplation is good to an extent but not when everyone else is trying things, you are just getting old, contemplating about those very things. All I can say is that uproar is your only music, stability isn’t.” 

He said ” I know that I owe truth to my dead past and I know that the entire existence is in this present which is slipping away in an almost terrifying way. But I am not afraid of that, Shu. What I am afraid of is the eternal isolation. And that is because I couldn’t complete you.” 

She sighed “Ask yourself Byja, What if you could ever complete me? What after that? You have to understand that I am different from your other creations. I am your everlasting mystique poetic verse in which the wind will always keep blowing in the dark woods full of whistling branches of the trees and the wolf would never hurt anyone because it would stay in dormancy covered with the blanket of whistles.”    

She turned away, started walking towards the origin of dusky lights, paused and said “Return salvated my love as there is no space and time between us. Even if you want, you can’t remain away from me. Tomorrow is the day when we become one. Just have faith in me and we will meet.”  

She walks away leaving her blue foot prints behind.

His ink dries without even a word being written.

-pras

The Meaning

The best moment of my life, the best summer,the best journey I had and so on…Nope,  I am not talking about filling a Slam book and no I am not a girl. So why and what am I really talking about here? Well it happened last to last night when I was talking to a friend, basically trying to irritate her. She happens to be a great singer, and no doubt a very special one for me (sorry for exaggeration…she aint that gud…but you see she is beautiful for sure and she will read this one….so …and by the way who doesnt compromise values these days…don’t u?). So this gal,this fren of mine….i guess we shud better name her first.. so lets call her ‘BRO’. So Bro sung a song for me which i had requested to her a long time back and while appreciating her, which obviously i did for the reason specified in the brackets above, i said that it was the most beautiful thing which has happened to me in past few days. After saying that i thought about it for a while and realized that there have been so few moments when i was really elated, when i was so high on happiness that my emotionally conscious heart couldnt bear it. There usually are very few moments that go by in which we all really live, other times we are just building up for those meaningful moments.  

I know that we all know this and I don’t intend to give a lecture about it. Its just that when i tried to recollect those memories, those beautiful memories, it really looked like a difficult task. Makes me to ask a few questions like should I be keeping some records of those memories? Are those memories not impressionable enough so that i can retain them for telling as stories as a part of my grand parent hood?Are there good memories at all or its just 23 years in vain? Will that girl in the cafetaria ever take interest in me? yeah, i know, i know that the last one is most important but other questions matter too.

On a serious note, I am not sure about my intention of preserving the memories. But i just want to remind myself about the shortness of life and what adds the meaning to it.  This post is and will be a reminder to myself and others if they need it that we are not here to live a life in the end of which we would realize that we never actually lived. CARPE DIEM ? well may be…..

P.S. – If any one likes the post or may be dislikes the post and wants to add a comment then please say a thanks to ‘BRO’ too….(yeah i m really tryin hard for her… )

Idiographic!

Human nature is one of the strangest and most intriguing things to most of us. I reckon, it is always difficult to understand the difference between how we conceive the things and how the others look upon the same. For instance, everyone has grown up reading a few books. In my childhood, I remember reading a few Russian story books which had come to India as a part of  process of building a mutual benefit treaty between India and Russia. They became a part of all the book fares of that time and eventually captivated my parents and hence later on, me.

So, in those books I used to read stories, the stories where some king would force a girl into a constraint that either the girl finishes a near impossible task and marries the king or she dies in a blink of an eye. “Cruel King”, that is what used to pop up in my mind while reading that. I never understood this kind of behavior of the king. Was he doing this b’coz he was treating himself as a commodity and giving himself away as a prize for completion of a life staking challenge? Or was he trying to make a simple girl great enough for a king’s attention so that he didn’t have to feel like he was submitting to his hideous and unworthy desire?

Anyways, the next thing that usually would happen in such stories was that the simple girl gets help from some sort of fairy or magical midget and she completes the challenge.Now again, the next difficult task for my childhood mind was to decipher the nature of next action taken by the to-be queen . After completing the challenge she is more than happy to marry the cruel and whimsical king and lead a happy life.

Is she stupid or what to marry a man who would have killed her so easily? Has that elated girl got no self respect to realize that its not a proposal which she is accepting, its her only option? Or is that she knows all the bitter truths of life and just make believes that she is happy in her fragment of the unassailable imagination.

Strange are interpretations. Strange is this world. Or atleast to my childhood mind it was !!

Tailored!

What ever I am about to write here is a product of an interesting bus ride that i had with an even more interesting person who narrated this story to me. I cant authenticate a single word written below.Here goes:

Long ago, in fact, long long ago,I used to work as a tailor. I wouldn’t really say that life was highly interesting apart from some things like few people holding their breath to appear fit while i took the measurements and a fewer free souls for whom even my measurement tape wasn’t long enough to tie the waist.

But one fine morning (usually in such stories, its a fine morning), something happened which i still remember in all details. I was arranging the things in my shop and he suddenly appeared through the gate. He looked like an ugly naked shit which could repel any one. And when i was just about to tell him to get out of my place, he spoke.

He said- Sir, i know u dont like me like every one else, i have ever been acquainted with.

I felt an eternal anguish , an ages old pain, in his voice which made me a bit sympathetic towards him.

I asked- But why dont you get dressed and try some decency.

He replied- I was told that I am good and i am supposed to be like this and that people will eventually appreciate me. But now i m tired of being hated, I just want to….. change.

I said – Well thats easy. I can help you. Do you have some cloth?

He said- No sir.

I replied- Hmmm… well let me try and find some spare cloth for you.

After a bit of effort, I could find a rejected ready-made suit in a shelf. So i tried to take measurements of him and cross check with the size of the suit i had.

While i was taking the measurement, I found him a bit over-sized.

I said- oh..i wish you were a bit  more slim.

He looked at his waist, sighed and replied with a sad smile- Try measuring again.

I gave him a weird and sarcastic look and measured him again and to my amazement he measured 3 inches less and became fit for the suit.

Answering to my bewildered look, he said -Don’t worry sir, I shift shape but by others’ will, not my own.

Then he moved towards the suit and wore it swiftly and i swear that i was unable to recognize him as the person who entered my shop almost half an hour back.

He looked himself in the mirror and then came to me, shook hands and started moving towards the gate after thanking me.

“What is your name, young man?” i asked

He stopped and answered without turning back- ” Name? I think they used to call me truth.Naked truth. I dont know what they are going to call me now in this grey suit of mine. But i am sure they will like me.”

He exited.

Cast in order of appearance :

Gov, the tailor.

Truth,the naked one.

Truth, in grey suit.

-pras