The Door

In the train, 

I'm lying 

to music i'm listening.

When the door does open

and passes someone,

again and again

aaargh this chagrin;

What's the big deal ?

you may appeal,

let me give you the stats

people passing like rats

At an average one and a half men opening 

every minute this door and closing. 

God alone knows to where they head,

because everytime i see a new head.

Maybe the door leads to another dimension

or it's just my delusion .

They dissapear,

well some do reappear

all of 'em have an agenda i think

to not let me have even a blink,

maybe my luxury the vie

in this ac coach where i try;

to get some sleep 

just like everyone else, like a sheep.

Sick of this activity

i get up and open a few doors in additivity.

FREE BOOZE

My dears here is your muse
going to rant about some free booze
It's the best thing to be conjured by mankind
and it leaves everything far behind.
It's a great thing to get
maybe due to a birthday or winning a bet
These treats are the best
but sooner or later to get one out of you will be their zest
It's a circle of life
played loud as a fife
The events are always amazing
followed by hell rasising.
You might or might'nt be wasted
but it's the great booze we tasted
We have to also eventually pay
by having a hangover the very next day
Or when you remember what you did last night
but when you remember all this, it gives one helluva delight.

Slow,Slow,Slow

Whoever said, slow and steady wins the race was sooooooo very wrong. Well for the past four-five days, the net speed is horribly slow . An hour ago i had created a new post and the speed being so slow, unfortunately the post wasn't saved and here i'm left with is this and with a few remnants of the post that could'nt be posted :((

There is this guy two rooms away from mine, the problem with that a**hole is that he will play a particular track any random hindi song or some obscure song . You know like "Allah Duhai"and "Pehli Nazar" from RACE,The recent one being Rascal Flatts , "where it hurts the most". Day and night it's the same song and him memorizing the lyrics from the net and blaring at the top of his voice, like a godammned busker, with his speakers at full volume . Well for the past ten minutes it's silent, it's as if the Gods have listened to me and struck upon him with vengeance. Let see, till when this status quo lasts after that it's going to be bedlam all over again. Let see till how long the calm before the storm prevails.

The Taste of Death

A Short story

This happens in the year that euthanasia or mercy killing was finally allowed in India ,thanks to some socialist fanatics who wanted so, for obviously freeing the occupied hospital beds by vegetables, who were unable to think and act (That’s what says their Charter framed some seven ago from today) . Suicide became common. Not only vegetables but normal humans were even resorting to its loopholes.

But that’s not what this story is about. Ranjeet had a habit, to pursue which he would go to great extents). That day he went to Akhi’s place, akhi showed him his stash, which he wanted to dispose off. There were some bottles of juice (six pack), labeled Nagpur Police in official format and to next of it were some small shiny balls , no less than I millimeter in diameter. Ranjeet and akhi dealed the stash for some 280 bucks. Akhi hid the pellets in Ranjeet’s foot’s sole and the Nagpur Police bottles in his trunk (which were inconspicuous) .He easily got by the police and his landlords aka as “his parents”. Got to his room and had IT!!! And for next two nights and two days he was dead, only to realize later, it would have been better. He woke up the third night only to vaguely remembering himself doing it. Seeing his sole cut he realized the pellets were gone, so he searched for the Nagpur police bottles, finding five empty ones, he searched for the sixth. After a futile search of three hours, he decided to go to Akhi’s place. In his groggy state, he got on his car and speeded on the highway to Akhi’s. But, fate did’nt wants so, rather he got hit by a truck and was paralyzed head to toe.

After two months of death, he woke up again, only to find himself worse. He could see but not move his eyelids or eyelashes. He could hear but couldn’t move his ears (which accidentally he had never accomplished). He could think, his brain was alive. His brain somehow keeping body’s nervous system alive. The doctors on seeing this took some plans for his survival. A nurse was employed to pour eye drops on his eyes , so that the may not sore up. A nurse to feed him, another for cleaning him and a full time doctor to his care. Some four months later his landlords came. A surge of excitement flew through his body, his ECG and EEG showed some activity, but could not interpret it. His parents decide to give his one eye to a little girl, then his tympanic membrane , to an old man, then his liver to some rich guy, his lungs to some relative , kidneys to some lady minister, etcetera. No that his other ear was going away, he realized he had only one eye left!!! The medical board decided to leave the eye and give the body to medical companies. His body was leased to twelve companies for five years each. Some mutated his legs, some his nose, some his hands, some his brain, some even wanted to touch his eyes, but they were forbade and thrown of the agreement and re-leased. In this painful episode. Ranjeet every waking hour wished for the death, which he had already tasted twice.

But only after his eighty-sixth birthday, they were able to comprehend his brain signals and realized what he wanted to ask for the past sixty-two years, DEATH. The State, after careful deliberation on the euthanasia act, which was still in effect agreed to his wishes and decide to cremate him on an electric pyre. When the fire burned, His body twitched, first time after sixty-two years.

And this, my dears is the story of us in evolving to what we are today, through selective mutation done to us, making us to survive anything and everything the only thing we were unable to generate through Ranjeet’s body was sound eyes and that my dears is the reason for our poor eyesight.

Lost

Sometimes for what you yearn for
Can not be captured

---------Another Haiku

There.Will.Be.Blood.DvDrip[Eng]-aXXo

Thank you axxo ,once again for a great movie. Today eventually got to watch the movie. I had been dying for days to watch it ( now i'm dying for 10,000 BC ,gotta download quick !!!)
Anyways, the movie is excellent, Daniel Day Lewis performs the role of a greedy,psycho,wild west businessman of the early 90's superbly . Day Lewis' Oscar was well deserved. The movie unlike it's name portrays bloodshed only a few times, in a miner's death, in the end and little bit here and there. It displays the various aspects of human nature (blood) in various forms greed,love,hatred,belief,disbelief,anger,lust,shrewdness,trickery,revenge.

There are two aspects two Day Lewis' character that i could comprehend one was of a greedy psychopath (that's some 85% of his personality) and a father (the rest 15%) .I wouldn't say he was a loving father but "a father" who cared for his son after his wife's death , who didn't abandon his son rather sent him away for his treatment and in the end (maybe because of being so alcohol afflicted) he disowned his son.
I think maybe he could no longer bear disputes with his son and could no longer stand him being his competitor.

Daniel does have his revenge with Eli and Daniel is "Finished"

---do see the movie, if you haven't

Kolkata

The city of Joy , be-joy, joy-dep,shon-joy,on-joy.....let me not go into the excruciating detail of bangu (a slang term for a Bengali) joy, So on Thursday , we thought of going to Calcutta for a two day visit on the eve of Good Friday and Holi, on a shoe string budget of 1500 rupees each, mostly borrowed from here and there). And the plan was to spend time during good Friday and leave on Holi by the 2 pm train and be here by night, when holi is over. But as it's well known bangus are a different breed, those assholes celebrated Holi on Friday itself, hence the market was closed. We got some accommodation in a reasonable state house for 30 bucks each. Then the two of us bathed, ate and got ready to hit the empty town. Bangu girls are hot and i believe the most open minded (maybe it's not their fault, God did half of his work in Bengal, created sexy, horny girls; but overall nitwit guys) .

Calcutta is real weird, From Rourkela to upto 50-100 kilometers of entering into Calcutta the weather was pleasant another 50 kms earlier it was raining. But as soon as we got into the Hell called Kolkata, it started raining fire. Even at night it rained fire, but the fire was a little less. So back to the topic, as soon as my accomplice, a very famous person of my college, completed his purchase, it was 1.30 pm in the afternoon. Then we headed to INOX , poor contrary as per my expectations, the Forum is no mall at all, it's just a big departmental store sort of, with a cinema hall in it. Till 3 , we waited for the tickets and then at the ticket counter, after waiting for one and a half hours we came to know 10,000 B.C. was not on show , it's show was scheduled to be at 7.40 p.m. i get so pissed, my accomplice was sad as he lost another opportunity to sleep in an ac cinema hall.

We went to have a siesta, and by seven some life cme to calcutta, we drank well and in nice places (was a relief!!!), shopped some essential goods, smoked cigars, not to forget grass, met god (?????) , some kelas ( a slang term for assamesse people, god where are you from don't you know anything ???.

On the platform , i reminisced and thought Kolkata might not be a bad city, it's got sexy girls, not bad places to shop, nice places to drink,to hangout,to be in a. nice metro. But it's too bangu-ish, it quite Cosmo mainly i think because of the Bihari influx. But i wouldn't want to live there, it's a respite from Rourkela, that's it. That's where i think our relation ends. Delhi is better, it's at least cold for the rest half of the year (we won't talk about Delhi in this Blog , leave that for another blog, Godspeed that blog,; but please for now !!!)

Got on the next train to rourkela , as soon as we left the hell called Kolkata, afer some 100 kilometeres it rained again !!!!!

Gods

Gods talk in a separate tongue
but sometimes they talk to you

A haiku

Cough Cough Cough
And it pains rough
And don't forget spitting
But i can't stop smoking

The Festival

It's a very retro town,

going down the town,

dressed up nice

Borrow a cycle,

from micheal,

think twice.

Okay i'm going,

the crows are crowing,

full of melancholy

i leave the gate,

who says anything about the "high" infant mortality rate,

it's a festival out there, see 'em jolly.

Safely travel,

people and people on the gravel,

everybody dressed up and girls, nauseous

Women with so much vermillion,

Looks like bleeding, as if hit on the head a time million

Walking with their kin moving cautious.

Men dressed up as if to be in the band,

and children second in command

Oops!! almost hit someone carrying yellow pea

This is the 8o's, man,

everyone crammed in the neighbour's Maruti from Japan

motorcycles with people no less than three.

Whistling at the girls,

wearing dark lipsticks and fake curls

Motorcycles struggling and some zooming past,

in this rush,

a myriad of shops sorrounded by slush

i see the fair & the ferris wheel so vast.

The policeman whistles,

"STOP" he howls

no iff 's no butt 's either go there or park your cycle and WALK

A ban is a ban,

same for you & the President of Sudan

i walk to find the closed library block.

No novel to read,

to a shop smoking a cigarette i proceed

the unfriendly owner hands me a drink

i sit down & go back to the early 80's congregation,

far from modern civilization

i am in sync.

I'am also dressed up,

dawdling around drinking in a cup

i'm one of them

am just another guy at the fair

i'm famished got to catch a snack there

ride back and smoke some grass for Vitamin "M"

The hawk who fought with it's reflection,

on the mirror had it's destruction.

The bone on which the dog fed,

had his own gums bled.

The slayer knight who was well-known,

on the battlefield died all alone.

The unknown,unmourned,dismembered,

is remebered?