$LEEPING $ICKNESS

Sorrrrrry everyone,was $leeping,woke up with this poem and promised myself never to sleep again............



"We see a Star,
and admire its Glitter,
the Twinkle catching our eyes,
and all thru our Lives,
we only see the Twinkle,

whenever we see the Star.
We know but Fail to see,
that all it takes to be a Star,
is an Unending Fire.
A Fire that's Beneath the Surface,
the Fire that made it the Star it is.

And had we seen the Star this way,
we might as well have Woken up to the Fact,
that the only thing Separating us,
from being a Star,
is the Lack of Fire within our Hearts."

From "Joker in the Pack" by Neeraj Pahlajani and Ritesh Sharma

MY eXcESSES

An obvious change comes comes about one's universe during journey from being a heartthrob (aka,fulfiller of gals heartfelt desires) to being a heartbroken (only one is broken,the other is out poaching). 'Obvious' because there is a quick reduction in the orkut friend list,change in cell tariff plan and hello tune. One's near and dear ones always have more details than the man in question. Alas,Charlie Chaplin also once stood 3rd in a lookalike contest for himself !!!!!,so,this phenomenon comes as no big wonder. With utmost respect for the values Indian women stand for,I still have not been able to understand the poor performance of FEMMEle Indian footballer on field when their kicking habits are beyond comparison. Yours truly has on few occasion stood as a stand-in for football and has first hand experience and expertise to comment on the matter.

One of the first changes that come about is transformation of oneself to a position where you may easily compete with the spokesman of the best political parties. FRIENDS need details(both censored and uncensored,more of uncensored) because they have to provide you a shoulder to cry (or at least try to.....),and have to stave of different allegations leveled against you and get a clean chit from the high level committee (the gals friends) constituted to probe the incident as well as facilitate the transition (exchange the gifts,incriminating photographs,love letters).You also have to quickly constitute a group of lawyers (your most loyal friends) to provide legal support and to quickly dispel the rumors.

Even with the most detailed measures putting the best run institutions to shame,the guy has to take most(99.99%) blame. One cannot obviously (break a heart),it does not matter if the girl had been more interested on you being her chauffeur or lately joined a competition to put Attila the Hun to shame. It is almost always because of the guy getting that other girl(aka bitch,witch and what not....) into his life and paying her more attention or being toooo possesive and forbiding the gal to stay out lateee into the night with her new friends(all guys). You are either not understanding or taking too much liberty.

Once you are out of the ordeal,a minimun 6 months probation is clamped against you. During the period you are to live the life of Devdas (why,why,why),drinking your pains out and never looking at any girl. A minor look or phone call disqualifies you of any future clemency and condemns you to be Lucifer.You are also supposed to remain silent as your Ex(I couldn't resist the word) explores new frontiers with that new 'Sooo understanding' guy in her life and tries to come out of the trauma. You are even supposed to grow up and call her on their FIXXing day and congratulating her even as she takes the quickest route to abuse you whenever you have called for a flag meeting.

After the compulsory period is over,you have to shoulder the burden of being single once again (AMCians aptly title him MAMA). Your past always lurks around you so that any attempt to strike any conversation with a girl is quickly foiled. Braving all odds as you discover independence, you are said to be spent bullet,heartbroken. Few doubt that you have got your due.

Soon,you discover that there are other 'GOOD' girls that you overlooked and with a quick apology to yourself,try to find a new hope. If your attempt survives the spying eyes of your Ex and her cronies,you again start as they call a new day,new life (no relation with kandhamal) and hope that you don't have to publish this post again (which most of the time proves futile........)


AS SOMEONE APTLY SAID "WHEN WOMEN ARE INVOLVED,THE UNEXPECTED ALWAYS HAPPENS".....

RETRACTION.......

An unnaturally violent reaction from one of my dear friends made me title the post such and what anger....even Ivan the terrible will be put to shame and why so,for what else,my last post. He said that I don't have any right to criticize something which even I use on regular count and has got almost whole of the youngistan addicted. He further went on to advice me to retract my statements,or I may have to face angry reactions. Few emails in my inbox(I got readers....yippee) convinced me to do it. Just a few questions first.....

1. WHY should I succumb to wishes of some vocal and and forget the silent ones who may not be averse to me speaking what I want to......(smell MNSisation?????)
   
2. WHEN did I start preaching that it had the hand of the devil,I merely pointed out its integration with our life in a matter not seen before????
3. WHAT happened to the words "healthy criticism"?????

It is after I get these answers will I be able to take a decision on retraction........

Leaving all that apart and surely behind,I still maintain that in today's world we are slave to technology and cannot do anything much about it. Remember the pre-cellphone era when the good old landphone inside lady's hostel (1,2,7, pnb) and pco's outside AMC remained busy for most part of the evening(....and night). Not that anyone complained,it has merely changed it's form.Evolution is constant. We are either with it or against it(NO,I DIDNOT ADMIRE DUBYA). We however have to decide how much are we ready to take. While an apocalypse maynot be seen in even the distant future but I still wish that my friends would call me for a minute rather than post me 100 scraps. I miss you guys,scraps are not the thing for me. I don't want to you to abandon the future but please,for me,hold the past.

I just hope that you all readers understand......For me,a thing of beauty is joy for ever and nothing is more beautiful than us. I still remember the long gone days filled with laughter,cries,new finds,us and the roads that never ended....we friends rocked...............hope I get to live them again.

P.S-this blog can be now subscribed by feed burner and please your comments are everything for me.

ORKUT

After a night of wake(my most hectic night duty till date)was pleased to notice that I was a witness to the first fog of the season,not the maybe kind nor the 100 crashed vehicles kind,actually just the right kind. I m a 'cold' guy(mom calls me cold blooded,much immune to my protests and sermons) and firsts always have an attraction like the first girlfriend,cell,watch and all important the first f***. As I picked up my cellphone camera to capture the moment,a blinking low battery light reminded me that that I had for the umpteenth time promised to reduce orkutting(neologism) and failed to keep up. Stirring up the statistics,I came to know that was one of 10,000 daily visitors to Orkut,a number which is a third of Facebook (phew...). Now please don't say you heard it before,at least let me write what I want on my blog.With that bewildering info along with the crap you pick up in IOC hospital(like the nursing school has prayers at 5:30 AM,I had visions of Auswitch),returned home and pondered about why do I go about Orkutting,fanning and being party to the wars for most friends,fans,scraps,testimonials and what not. Like one of my learned friend said,guys find new gals to f*** and gals find new hope on orkut. I find it a little different,seems our tribal customs of herding and competition are getting unleashed,albeit in a civil way,collecting friends as collectibles or maybe tribe members. Seems like an anodyne to our broken social life where I don't remember talking to my father for 1 hour straight. God knows why I or for that matter one else wastes such a hell lot of time socialising when better options exist. I know quite a lot of guys who plucked the cherry thanks to social networking and now are having a hard time coming out of the net and the girl. Are we going slave to the new age socialising or is it just an outlet of our more ancient part of brain. I don't know but seriously care for my friends post scrap more than meet me,ditto for me. As said earlier my little cradle and me,are opening up but don't know if this is right but as Scarlett O' Hara,I won't think about it today,I'll think about it some other day when it won't feel so bad. More about that later,now let me send a friend request to that hot babe I just searched out......

A LITTLE MORE......

MY GOD,some people are interested in the crap I write,the counter and a newfound(..neologism) list of alleged 'FOLLOWERS' are evidence to that,social ratification and following,how I,we crave for it....more about it later,my little oil town(suffer it a little more please,my story is incomplete about it,it made what I am today) never asked for it. For once,it remained largely impermeable and detached to freedom struggle,master and worker in complete harmony(its true,I don't care what the Bald old man thinks....),a harmony it has preserved till date. It also had to be self-sufficient,producing everything,even the barrels to store oil. That perhaps makes us so independent,almost like full of ourselves. Dont know ,dont care has been the motto of my dad along with a lot of other 'uncles' I come across here. Also a almost craziness with 'BEST' for least the town shares with us,making a lot of RHO run away from the hospital,a great distance from mainstream ensured it took only quality products,the best,the least has been a more recent Indian offering. How it was amalgamated to best is best lost to the red tapes. still,it somehow preserved its extravagance,socialising at the club where till recently Indians and dogs were not allowed(after independence),a place wher even the white robed became drunk at most weekends much to the chagrin of the RHO's. All these change,one thing has stood,some will say the spirit,I don't know,but like the age old iron 'kadhai' which was used for a primitive distillation of oil andpurportedly does not rust,it stands,welcoming a thousand lights and being witness to thousand gone.......my love,myself,Digboi

OIL ALL AROUND

HI EVERYONE,THOUGH I DOUBT IF ANYONE IS AT ALL INTERESTED IN WHATEVER I WRITE....STILL,IT MATTERS NOT. My hometown DIGBOI,I have told a lot about it,but as grandmothers always have a new bedtime story,it too has. For a clinical view,read this....for a story,stay with me. The British contributed a great deal,left a refinery,a war cemetery,some bungalows and a legacy so,perhaps people here still remember the old days.The town breathes, toils, heaves, cries together with its inhabitants. People here have a sense of community,right from the numbered lines(quarters) to the all famous durga puja.Perhaps the fear of unknown and a deep mistrust of outsiders keep them together,I have none,don't know about the others. I feel that we are opening up,short skirts,low hip cargoes and a growing number of RTA's provide evidence to it,making the old sneer.I don't know if I like those although girls with skimpy dresses have always been a treat to eyes(so called purists will protest here). Town is an oiltown,although it's profit statements have dubious origin. Still,it remains an oil town. Its history is the only advocate of it being so now. It has started it's fight with the generation gap,gap of 30 years has failed,though I still get nostalgic with the fog rushing over,my brother feels its an "outdated" place. I don't know,I still rush to it's arms,hoping to get forgiven once again,and as I said,it has never failed anyone. Can't leave the roots,my friend S says,I differ,it's not my roots,it's me I can't leave. Now you may ask what is in a town to devote a post to it,but I promise you.as you drive through the winding roads,as you feel the fog setting in,as you see the first rays of the moon over the hills,you want to speak those words for it "IF THERE IS A PARADISE ON EARTH,THIS IS IT,THIS IS IT". I feel that,don't know about others,all who have come to visit have conceded this to be a fact. Those who haven't seen it,can never understand.....

ROOM No 4. STAFF WARD

Its me,stranded between the dreamland and badland on bed A,room no 4 of staff ward of IOC hospital. I work here and am here in this room because the doctor's room aka conference room is (apparently) haunted,some say that the bed B is haunted. I chose to believe them. Even half century after an old man chased away the British,Digboi is still nearer to Greenwich than Guwahati and the sprits chose to stay on.With a host whose grey hairs still praise the 'Good Old Days' and where an Unionjack hangs proudly in the town museum,the spirits,I am sure will forever be happy. A hospital and a town which has everything colonial...babus,manicured gardens,chang bungalow,fakirs and ghosts. Time goes at least 30 years late and you can still enjoy that evening cuppa by fireplace. Even the name isn't quite local. Lore says of Canadian engineers who urged the diggers to DIG BOY DIG BOI...(now you'll say that I am linking too many places).I love this place,it has never forsaken me or anyone I know,as the adopted towns tend to. It certainly takes care of everyone. I would certainly like to return here after my would be adopted homes shun me,when I am no longer able to run as they do,I'll like to return to be dust in a place whose dust I grew in.