KEYS

                Honest to God, I hate mornings, more so when they come after a night of frenzied chats with old friends gone abroad to pursue higher education. These buggers go off to places like Brighton, Munich, California, etc. and then keep you up all night with their fascinating exploits at either the pubs, the gay parades or the BMW factory! (Yeah, for the uninformed, Brighton has an annual gay parade!) So after haggling and bargaining, (with friends would you believe? And for what? Photographs? Not like I am asking them to give me their girlfriends pictures in compromising positions damn it, just a few odd pics of the gay parade maybe, some of the wild Californian parties and a lot of the BMW factory pics!) I manage to lay my hands on some fabulous pics of the BMW to show-off to my classmates in the morning class. (Which by the way, is about 2 hours from when I finally get to sleep!) Arghh… 9:15 a.m. and I am still descending on the staircase at my flat.

                I reach my bike, not that I am in any particular rush but I still curse the ass who parked his bike so close to mine, it would take a miracle to squeeze it out. I search for my keys and as I do, I remember I am not carrying my identity card. With a huff and a gruff, I trudge my way to the apartment and back. I reach my 10-odd year old bike, push the key in, turn the ignition, kick-start the bike, pull the key out lest it should fall out of the lock which by now is little more than a cursory object to pacify my insecure mind against any possible theft. (Honestly though, even I know that if I left my keys in the bike, the most desperate of thieves would not consider stealing it.) I straddle on to it, rev up the little motor that still has quite a bit of pep left in it and gun my way to college at break-neck speeds. I arrive about half an hour late for the lecture and instead of disturbing the poor lecturer, who I am certain is well engrossed in teaching whatever important economic theory it is that he has planned out for the day, I decide to study the demand-supply characteristics of the college food-chain. (In other words, grab a sandwich at the canteen!)

                As I sit down to bite into the sandwich, I suddenly hear a thump of a bag on a plastic chair next to me. (I could’ve sworn the chairs were wooden when I sat in!) I hear a cheery voice greet me with

‘Good morning! Late again aren’t we both?’

‘Nirlajjam Sadasukhi!’ is what I hear myself respond with.

I think I have a smug smile on my face. I don’t turn around to see who it is, heck, if I had a pen in hand, I’d probably detail the face so vividly in words, you’d know every single feature! I look at what’s in front of me and I see a green marble table with a steel jug and 4 glasses kept in an aluminium tray (made by one of our class chaps as a part of the mechanical workshop assignment…cheapskate college authorities!) a red plastic bottle that houses pumpkin sauce under the garb of carrying tomato sauce, a blue plastic plate with a wada-pav and groundnut and garlic chutney…wait a minute…didn’t I order a grilled sandwich?

                I look up and see a 30-something guy pull a chair in front of me and this chair is metallic-wooden. I shake my head and bring myself back into the present. I need a few cups of coffee…for a moment there, I had turned the clock back by about 4 years! I get up and get myself a shot of coffee, finish my sandwich and after a few polite words with my senior classmate and putting up with his painful sarcasm about college, academics, college politics (and heaven knows what else, I am too darned zapped to even know where I am right now…it’s worse than a hangover!) I excuse myself as I see someone my age walk in to the canteen.

                At 10:30 a.m. the day finally begins and the rest of the day is pretty much spent the way it always is, attending lectures with half my mind elsewhere and the other half engrossed in penning down another one of my legendary works in rhyme. As always, by some miracle or the other, the day draws to an end and I go down to the hangout for some smokes and some chat with my pals. After languishing about doing absolutely no good work, I finally get astride my bike again to head home when I realize I don’t have the keys to my bike. I curse myself and look in my bag, on the bike, walk half-way to college in search of it before finally accepting the fact that it cannot be found again.

‘That’s the 6^th time you’ve lost the keys…what are you gonna do now? I’m not pushing the bike anywhere, you’re on your own.’ I hear her say teasingly.

‘Hey, take it easy will ya? I got this covered, I know this baby inside out, I’ll have it started in no time! We’ll go get a spare made, you have one set of keys with you anyways…’ I hear myself say.

‘Will you ever learn to be a little careful?’

‘Nirlajjam Sadasukhi, wouldn’t you agree?’

                That’s when it hits me, “YOU” have the spare. I haven’t seen you in a while now. Strengthening myself against you…against not having you here with me…against staying away from you. And now I might have to undo all that by seeing you again. I think it’s been 6 years since I gave you my set of spare keys…the original keys. 6 years is too long to expect you to have still have them, to expect even you to have kept them carefully through all those transfers from one hostel to another in my city and back to your home…this city of dreams that now we share. Funny how long destiny has been playing this out for us.

                I pull out my phone and think twice, long and hard, before calling you.

‘Hey! Long time! How are you?’

‘Ah! I thought you’d forgotten me! I’m good, you tell me, ssup with you?’

‘Ummm…I am in a bit of a quandary actually. Before you laugh, I’ve lost the keys to my bike again.’

‘Wow! After a gap of 3 years! That’s impressive!’ It’s supposed to be a sarcastic remark but your voice doesn’t suggest so.

 I sigh.

‘Is there a remote possibility that you still have the spare I gave you years ago? I mean I’d understand if you didn’t have it…it’s been 6 long years after all!’

‘I’m not certain but I should have it at home. I’m at my aunt’s place for dinner, can I check and call you back in a couple of hours? You can swing by my place and pick it up if you’d like.’

‘That would be after 11! You sure your folks would be ok with that? Your dad would kill me…hmmm…perhaps not but he’d make me wait up and have dinner, which considering you’ll be cooking up would be worse!’

‘I can cook, pretty well…but I won’t for you since your majesty has such fine tastes!’

(Arghhh! What am I doing? Why am I such a moron? I love her cooking! Invite me for dinner…please! I’d give an arm and a leg for that right now!)

‘Ahh! Well then, get back home and let me know if you find the keys, I’ll drop by if you do. If that’s alright with your folks. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.’

‘It’s alright, don’t worry. It’s you after all…’

‘Thank you!’

                I end the call. What was that last part supposed to mean? After all that’s happened and all that she’s done? Or am I just reading too much into it?

                Anyways, an hour later, she does call and I do go down to her place to pick up the keys. I do get offered dinner and desserts too, they’re delicious. I do end up talking to her and her folks for more than an hour after dinner and have the most fulfilling time I have had in a long, long time.

                I thank her for the evening and more so for the keys. She walks me out and as we stand under her house catching on how we’ve been, all she can talk about is him. I wish she wouldn’t…it still hurts. Should I tell her? Probably not. Love is strange. You can love someone a lot, sometimes so much that you know you should part ways. I finally take leave.

‘Make a spare and return these to me will you?’ she says as I walk into the distance.

                As I walk back to the station, I get an sms from her. It reads –

“That’s the 6^th time you’ve lost the keys.

Will you ever learn to be a little careful?”

                I laugh to myself…the irony isn’t lost on me. I reply with those two little words we hold dear…

“Nirlajjam Sadasukhi!”

More than we know...

'I love you not,' said I,

As I do, I see you not cry,

A hundred times I've thought this moment over,

I've dreaded lying to you even then, my sweet lover,

I look in your eyes, on your lips a wry smile,

I know in my eyes you see my broken heart lying in a pile,

Why is it that more than I've shown you, you've seen,

More than I've said, you choose to listen!

You say, 'It's alright, I'll be fine,'

But I know, you wish you were in these arms of mine,

In your eyes I see the same old hidden pain,

As we stand at the same cross-roads once again,

Our brittle hearts that love to be broken,

To be together that they're always hoping,

I too see more than you've shown,

Our sly hearts sharing more than we've known...

BIKRAM WISODM

"Life's best memories aren't from when I've done everything right, they're from when I've done everything wrong!"

BIKRAM WISODM

"The greatest accomplishments of men are accidental off-shoots in the course of their pursuit of their women."

Walls

Some walls are built to keep out something,

Then there are others that are built to hold it all in,

Some walls are built ‘cause so we choose,

Then there are others that come up ‘cause of a bruise,

Some walls form foundations of strength,

Then there are those that are weak with a dent,

Some walls we guard with all our might,

Then there are those that we keep out of our sight,

Some walls that are built up from the ground,

Then there are those that up in the air can be found,

Some walls that we’d never like breached,

Then there are those that we hope someone beyond will have reached,

Some people that will never be able to walk beyond a few walls,

Then there are some that you let float across them all…

The Unemployment List!

So now that NMIMS seems to hold no hopes in terms of job prospects, here are the things on my unemployment list:

1. Figure on the NPA list of State Bank of India.
2. Become a ROCKSTAR.
3. Go around the country in $8.
4. Write more of my morose poems.
5. Write a book.
6. Write testimonials for everyone on my orkut friend list.
7. Try-out the 'house-husband' matrimonial I'd written for myself just in case of such a situation.
8. Womanise...(ummm...ok, we can strike this one off...i doubt i'd get anywhere with women with my unemployed arse...and my bike...and...ummm, i think that's enough...i dont wanna shatter the little self respect i have left for myself!)
9. Spend hours sleeping on the beach.
10. Oh...and maybe enter politics!

:P

So there you go, the ten things to-do on my unemployment list!

MY LIFE, MY PURSUIT...

No matter how hard I try, I can't convince myself that what I have is what I want because it isn't. It's my greatest flaw, I can lie to the world with the greatest of ease but I can't lie to myself and convince myself into accepting a compromise...what I want is what I need...anything else, is irrelevant. I am addicted to realism, to the truth, no matter how bitter it is. Only if it is real, is it ever gonna be good enough...if not, I couldn't settle for it, not for a day.
It's not that I haven't tried, I have. Done all that I can to be a part of the human race that moves from one day to the next in the simple hope of the hope that the next day promises...somehow, hope is worthless to me. I love what I have although at this point of time, all I have is everything that I do not...but that is the way I like it, all or nothing. If my heart is set, I will pursue it till my dying day, perhaps pulverising to dust everything that I possibly could have had if I gave up on my unrealistic dreams...but I refuse to do that. No matter how fruitless my cause, it is the fuel for my life. I shall pursue it, fruitlessly if so it should be, all my life...ironically though, my pursuit lies defined in not pursuing. I cannot wake up to a morning where I let myself believe that this is good enough...I know what is good enough and in it's pursuit shall my mortal days be spent. No matter the pain and the disappointment, this is what gets the adrenaline flowing, that defines me, that gives me purpose, that makes me feel alive...I refuse to be the living dead. This is my life...

Thank you once again for your time...

BIKRAM WISODM

"Information is wielded as power by lesser mortals trying to assert themselves as greater than those that actually are."


Disagree if you must but that is the truth. Those using information assymetry to their advantage are simply afraid and know they are inept at being competitive in a fair contest. They will do everything they can to ensure that there never exists a state of transparency and create a situation where one person knows more than the other, the one person being them of course! Oh, and if you meet someone along the way who will use the phrase 'INFORMATION IS POWER' to justify whatever it is they are doing, please slap the impotent fool for me...or send them a link to this post.

Thank you for your time...

Unbreakable

Was an eagle that loved to soar high,
Nothing could ever keep him outta the sky,
Always one to break away from the pack,
Would pull them along, who ever held him back,
And he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun,
Got himself burnt but the phoenix wasn't quite done,
Within a spirit that would never let him give way,
Stood on strong to fight another day,
Though he lies motionless, nothing could hide his zeal,
And we gather around waiting for his wounds to heal,
Loved ones whose tears blame a fate unjust and vile,
And he still finds the strength to comfort us with his smile...

Inspirations from 'World's Fastest Indian'

"They say oft you can live more in minutes than you could in a lifetime,
But if I justify my life with that, it'd be a heinous crime,
I reckon I oughta be making the most of this life since I'm already in it,
Instead of living in minutes, maybe I oughta be living every minute!"

From a line where he explains why he loves riding the Scout '45 though the danger to life is more than apparent...he says "Sometimes you can live more in a few minutes than others could in a life-time!"

"To soar high when eagles dare,
I wonder if they must know somehow,
That if you really wanna be somwhere,
You oughta go there right now,
For later you may or may not mourn,
But when you reach there, you'll realise you're already gone!"

From a line where he explains why he wants to go to Bonneville despite the fact that his neighbours think little of his wanton efforts...

Is a girl I know n we never see eye to eye,

It’s the disagreements though that bring our friendship to life,

Takes pleasure does she in chiding me around,

Yet without her, in college I could never be found,

Sometimes we talk on endlessly,

But more often it’s the silence that we cherish blissfully,

Neither of us, ever short of words,

But when nothings being spoken, is when everything’s been heard,

The girl that I think is most fun to be with,

Sometimes gets me with her charm but mostly with her wit,

The spice that adds tang to my day,

Damn…I’m missing you so much…if I may so say…

Lemme tell you of this friend of mine,

Haven’t known him for too long a time,

Speaks a language that is his own,

Every sentence with a bit of profanity thrown,

Yet never is it offensive, his manner or tone,

Held close by all to whom he is known,

Always the guy that’s just a call away,

Not for us, for his gal I say!

The friend that sticks by through thick n thin,

Sometimes my partner for the mess I’m in,

I love talking endlessly to the bloke,

Sometimes over meals but mostly over smoke,

He’s the part of Bombay that I really like so,

Heck…I wrote him a poem…well what do you know!

Was a boy as simple as could be,

Never without a smile him did we see,

Yet for those who knew him well,

Knew the layers that below did dwell,

The hopes, the dreams…n just a few fears,

But always the first one to wipe away your tears,

Far apart from all the rest,

Those who know you as a friend, know you as their best…

Lush green mountains and a narrow winding road,

Just a whisper of my footsteps and the distant croak of a toad,

All the solitude I could ask for and perhaps a little more,

Nature’s haunting beauty as if taken from the pages of an old folk-lore,

At peace with myself and my thoughts take wings,

Abstract ideas and hidden emotions to the fore that this now brings,

Almost heaven might it’ve been so complete was my bliss,

Your absence next to me, perhaps the only thing amiss…