Ramblings of an eccentric

(Warning: This post is way too long for the weak hearted. Enter at your own risk)

(Disclaimer: This is a work of sleep-deprivation. The writer/s have no frigging relationship to this post whatsoever. )

One day, when you have eaten something particularly indigestible, you’ll sit down for a long time and let your mind wander. If you’re lucky enough to have ignored a certain blood-pumping organ of yours for most of your life, then mark my words! For you, sir, are going to need a nice, thick magazine in your bathroom from now on. However, if you don’t fall in that particular genre and have always been unlucky, you’ll see all the people that were. Don’t let your mind wander too far for you’ll remember all the bad parts because you haven’t reminisced the good parts enough. But you’re sitting in absolute silence and all that you see is a crimson ash falling like snow. What do you do then? You start remembering.

After an absolutely preposterous and illegal amount of caffeine, I understood that it kills when the person you worry about is absolutely oblivious to it. What if someday the veil rises and you find out that you weren’t enough? Perhaps some of us have been doing it wrong all these years. We were fools to believe that all those motion pictures and all those bestselling books were true. It was our fault not to have been able to discern between reality and, well, the non-existent.

NO! I’m not going into a rant here against matters of the heart. Definitely not! (My girlfriend will publicly stone me if I do!) I’m just making an observation. We let people into our lives. Be it a friend, family or fiancée, the people we love hold the power to break, shatter and puncture our heart. Yes, we hold that power over them too. But nobody really thinks that way, do they? It’s okay. We are all a little selfish. We don’t want to change. Even if we do, we don’t want our dear ones to change. And when all of us have changed, it’s time to set fire to that house of cards we so carefully built. I’m a small-city guy with small dreams. I don’t know how it works in the big cities. I don’t know how to be ‘cool’ and get into recreational substances or recreational adultery (I do know sarcasm though!) and I certainly don’t want my friends to go that way. But then, I’m a small-city guy. What do I know about the culture and the society in the big bright cities of the world!? What do I know about independent women and the ‘players’ of this earth? Nothing, I believe. It all seems like a hazy dream to me. A dream many wouldn’t want to be in.

The more I think about it, the more it seems to me that life is a long game of Texas hold’em poker. You are dealt a hand and you play with it. You win some and you lose some but nobody leaves the table till a certain grim reaper is involved in the picture. I may seem slightly crazy but just think about it! All our choices and our decisions are not always right or always wrong. We travel on a sine curve, aiming towards happiness and then cascading downwards to a little misery. All the quotes and sayings about ‘not having any regrets’ seems a little bullshit at such indigestible times. After introspection and many a sleepless nights it’s pretty clear that we get screwed severely when we get a full hand of hearts. Because even if we get a straight flush, the house always wins.

But then, I’m a small-city guy. What do I know?


The Incomplete Goodbye

He was sitting calmly at a corner table, earphones plugged in and John Legend’s ‘All Of Me’ beating away in his ear. He took a look at his watch. She’s running late. It had been almost half an hour since he sat down at that place. He was sitting at a window table in the café, looking at passing cars, hoping to see the little silver hatchback her dad owned slowing down at the curb.

32 minutes late. He smiled as the car stopped in front of him and she climbed out, looking as brilliant as ever. Her smile present there just like it had been the last time they had met. He couldn’t believe it had been more than five months already since that little rendezvous at the Oxford bookstore. She walked in and instantly spotted him amidst all the tables. She opened her bag as she walked towards him and by the time she sat down across him, she was pulling out the novels he had lent her the last time he had been home. But he didn’t care. All he had on his mind was her.

He had left the city five years ago to go to college in the hope of starting a new life and getting away from the people he hated there. But not her.

He came to know her towards the end of high school and since then they had been friends. He had left after that but still they stuck together. Friends, great friends and then best friends. She had been an invisible, untouchable and inseparable part of his life for five years now. He never failed to come home in the break and never failed to meet her at least once every time. But not this time. She had finished college and got a job in another state. She was leaving in two days.

They both talked for almost half an hour. Actually she talked and he listened. He couldn’t get a word out for the life of him. What would he say? That he’s going to miss her? That he’ll never be coming home again? That she meant the entire world to him? They both knew that already. He wanted to get up, pull her to his feet and hug her as tightly as he could in front of all these people they didn’t know. He wanted to look into her eyes one last time for he did not know how long it was going to be before he saw her again. Damn, I wish I could kiss her!

A unknown voice pulled him out of his daydream. Son of a! it was her older brother. He had always been afraid of the guy. He had come to pick her up. There was packing to finish, last minute stuff to be done. But! BUT! This isn’t enough! I haven’t even hugged her yet! And they walked out together. He smiled as much as he could and tried to make conversation with the big guy. As they reached the car, he gave her one last look. There she was. Still clueless.Sigh! He smiled and mouthed two words, “good bye.” He turned and left. He didn’t want to but he did. Every brain cell screamed out at him, asking him to turn back. Turn back and run to her you idiot! Give her that hug! There’s still time! But he never looked back. He reached his bike, pulled on his helmet and drove away into the opposite direction.

The city wasn’t going to be the same without her. Things were going to change. And they both knew that.


Old Is Gold?

(Disclaimer: I’m not Don Quixote neither am I on a mission to civilize. This is a work of joblessness and imagination and should be considered as such. All the facts stated here might hold true in a parallel universe.)

The world has become too fast paced. We’re moving ahead and growing up too soon and too much for my liking. Social media has conveniently made us more alienated from everyone than ever. We’re trapped in a universe of memes, trolls and Comedy Nights with Kapil!

There was a time when the word “catching up” held some meaning. You meet someone after years, sit down, have coffee and find out what’s going on with them. But that magic has disappeared thanks to Google+, Yahoo-, Bing*, FaceBook, ButtScript and the latest upcoming social media site- mylifeisonline.com.

Old friends

It pains me gravely when I meet someone and they ask me what’s going on. The conversation becomes something like: “I started a blog.” “Yeah! I saw in my feed. Dark something no..?” “No it’s dark cells actually. Have you read it?” “Naah! I just see it in my feed” “Okay! What’s up with you?” “Duuuude! Don’t you see my status updates or what?”. And I move on with a new promise to never talk to that dimwit ever again. Instead of staying in touch with everyone, we have fallen victims to resentment, stalking, ass-holery and stupidity in general. Very few of us have actually managed to stay in touch with the people we love and respect. The trend has become so alarming that we’ve actually started shying away from people we once knew very well just out of the fear of letting in someone new in our lives. Studies by Meking Itup Institute of Technology in Hong Kong say that people will make new friends every 2 years  now and get over old ones in just 2 weeks. Kapil Sibal is trying his best to make Senti SMSes and Love letters illegal for school students citing that “It is destroying the youth culture of India”.

Well, enough of cribbing. Moral of the story: Get off Facebook and call your old friends once in a while! And if you don’t, then make it a point to ‘ping’ all the 10,234 friends in your ‘friend-list’.

Happy Diwali to all my friends. May the force be with you!

P.S. The person beside me says “Google ki Maa ka Breakfast!” **

**Those people who don’t know Hindi: Good for you!

Unsaid Goodbyes

Somehow the train of thoughts never ends,
of unsaid goodbyes and lost friends.
All the good times in your heart embossed,
Reminding constantly what you’ve lost.

You wish there was some better way to end,
a better way to let go of dear friends.
It pains to drift away, to crumble with time,
knowing very well that that you’ve committed a crime.

Truths get bared or masks finally fall,
or time simply pulls apart from all.
Whatever bitterness may have sprouted between two,
admit it, you miss the other person too.


Without a word silent rifts get made,
“Let’s give it one more try” none of them said.
And even though make new friends you will,
Unsaid goodbyes will forever hurt you still.


Like an agnostic who just discovered that God does exist, I was overwhelmed by the revelation a single phone call presented before me today. Frankly speaking, I suck at relationships of all kind (as much as the rest of the human race, probably more). But it’s surprising how a single strand of human emotion, a single form of relation has endured centuries of sucky human beings without fail.

Finger friends
Finger friends

I am a difficult guy (probably slightly sociopathic if I believe in all the crap that Dexter Morgan says). And I know that I am perfectly capable of throwing away good friendships (having observed myself over the years like a certain detective who used to live in 221B, Baker Street). Yet it surprises me the number of people who have stuck with me over all these years. There are people whom I meet once every 5-6 months, people whom I haven’t seen in 3 years since school life ended and people I haven’t met in person till now. Yet they ARE my friends.
Yes, we fight. We get angry. But everytime it happens, both of us keep checking the phone every five seconds, secretly hoping that the other person texts “I am sorry”; and in the end we end up apologizing together. Everytime I push them away or make a mistake, I keep hoping that they would stop me. I keep hoping that they pull me back. And they do.
It doesn’t matter whether we talk once in a fortnight or once a month and there are some I haven’t talked to properly in months. Yet when my phone finds the time to give them a call or my bike finds the time to go and hang out with them, it does not matter when we had talked last. What matters is the fact that there is no resentment or anger. We know that the other person is there for us when we need them and it feels as if we were never away from each other.


I always wished for a perfect ever-lasting friendship without any ‘terms and conditions apply’ clause. I always wanted ‘perfection’ in my friendships. But I was a fool not to have realized that those many little moments of pure unadulterated happiness I’ve gathered over the years complete my perfect little album of memories. And even though I’ve screwed up so many times, never have they left my side (except for the occasional semester breaks of course).

I’m thankful for these people in my life who have stuck with me at all times, good and bad. I’m indebted because they accept me as a jerk! I’m grateful that they took the pains to know the real me and didn’t shy away. I’m happy that I managed to touch their hearts and be an ‘okay-okay’ friend.

“So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good.”
Helen Keller

 Friendship quotes 1

Last Bench

I may have left the school days behind,
but the classroom never really  left me.
It’s still the same old routine of coming early,
to fill the last benches first.

Gone are the days of uniforms and lunchboxes,
gone are the days of “kneel-down”-ing.
The professor doesn’t give a damn and neither do we,
we just worry that he doesn’t disturb our sleep.


But then, the last bench has its own way,
of forcing you to sit and think.
And While the breeze hits me from the left and from behind,
I stare out of the window and get lost in my thoughts.

I’m pushed back in time, pushed far away,
away from the college classrooms and life.
The professor gets switched off just like a radio,
& all the last bench jokes become buzzing of bees.

I remember old jokes, I remember old pranks,
I remember all the times we laughed and cried.
I remember all the punishments we ever got in class,
I remember each and every smile.

My brain starts playing old videos,
kiddish fights and childish talks.
I remember all promises, all secrets we shared,
all that we thought was the ‘world’ for us.

Games class and football fights,
cat-fights and the gossip vine.
All that philosophical thinking and search for “love”,
nothing but leave a wavering smile.

‘Sharing’ lunches and diet-food!
Borrowing water bottles during a class.
Sticking chewing gum under the desks,
and writing our names over the walls.


The bell rings and my day dream breaks,
I want to stay but I can’t.
Lifting up my bag, I give the bench a look,
and a smiling me exits the class.