Friday, January 23, 2009

2015 AD: The un-poem

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Its they who have won,
that mighty Euro, they 
fell them, their 
blood spilled, dust

Its they who have won,
from the west to
the near east from
northern trip to

Its they who have won,
but civilizations have died,
freedom suffocated,
culture denied,

Its they who have won,
all but the final battle,
one city resists,
them maniacs,

Its they who have won,
those religious fanatics,
the souless terrorists,
the jihadis,

Its they who have won, 
who were just animals,
who spread across,
like infection,

Its they who have won,
except one final battle,
as humanity watches 
nervously, the nightmare

thinking about it now...

this will probably be more well recived in a radiohead'esque rendition...i am almost imagine yorke crooning the lines...

satan is passe....jihadis are in...


An old fool's rant

I had written this a long time ago...dunno why it didnt make it into the blog until now...

"Spirals. And boxes too. That's what they have over on the plateau. Don't be scared. It ain't one of those scary multi coloured spiral infinites. Besides, they have birds too. Those cute fluffy ones - multi-hued and chirpy. The predators are there too but they mostly lurked in the darker hours. Coming back to the point of the spiral, the one I am talking about is nothing like what you are expecting. How do I know what are thinking, I hear you asking. Well, lets just say that yours ain't the first dark mind I am encountering. In fact, dark is a redundant qualifier when it comes to human mind. The organ is so infinitely complex that sooner or later it is bound to churn up a combination of impulses that cross the boundary of what is popularly perceived as sanity. Who defined sanity anyway. It is just another one of those over hyped behavioral assumptions we often make. So don't be offended when I naturally assume that your mind is even now filled with dark psychedelic patterns of spirals zooming in and out. But I assure you, these spirals are different. I cannot quite put it in words. Ever had the most amazing visual in your mind which you couldn't express. Happens all the time? Yeah I've been there as well. Hell, I am there right now for my mind is filled with such rich visuals which I am unable to quite put in words. Its moments like these you realize how uni-dimensional words are. They box your thoughts within grammar, symbols and sequence. Talking of boxes, they have that too over at the plateau. No, no don't be scared, I am not talking about caskets. I am not talking about bunkers as well. But then thinking about it, you may need some bunkers there. Why, you ask me? Well I can see your face twitching with concern. Don't worry, its all good. Bunkers are just for some emergency which will never happen. Its like preparing for a nuclear disaster. You know its never going to come. I should probably talk to the minister about a bunker up there on the plateau. It will be a nice addition to the place - wont spruce up the landscape though. Which brings me back to the boxes. These boxes are basically habitats. Dull looking really but then they are there to serve a purpose and they do that effectively. Purpose is to provide a habitat?, you ask shrugging your shoulders in an understanding of the obvious. I nod wickedly and snicker a little as well. That's impolite isn't it? Well, what can I do.  That's just a habit of mine. Don't interpret it to mean anything else. The boxes are fine. You'll love them.

So what else is there on the plateau, you ask? Well, technically anything. Its pretty dynamic as well. The birds I talked about earlier, they are there all the time. But again, that's only for me and I am kind of a special person out there. I am what you would call an aborigine to the place. But there is so much of negative connotation attached to the word that I am very circumspect in using it. I can see that you have clarity of thought and appear well read as well so I am taking a risk here. Besides birds, there are children and music. For the more vain of you, there are intoxicants and women too. You should try our special drink called the - er ahem. I am not telling you. Whets the charm in telling everything right? There are women who will do things you cant see women do down there on earth. Ah! I see that I have captured your attention at last. That's all right - in my job I have seen many eyes widen with desire.... 'Besides how else will I pull people down there?'....

What? no....I didn't say anything. I see that you are suddenly looking very suspicious. Why,  you offend me you mortal. Don't I look trustworthy? Ask your friends who have known me for quite a while.  I am trustworthy and I say this: come with me to the plateau and I promise you an exciting life. Alright, you say? That's the spirit my boy! Do you want to join right now. I have free membership for the next 50 members - its a very good offer as well when you consider people would pay anything for getting access. I have to tell you this story. There was this lady, pretty charming gal she was with golden skin and blue eyes and a hair that's silky like a  - oh sorry, I drifted out. Where was I? Well, yeah this woman, she was so desperate to get to the plateau and of course, I was charming as ever as well. In any case, she wanted to taste the fruits and smell the air on the plateau that she screwed over her boy friend. She screwed him real good. So bad, it lasted for generations hence forth. But the good thing is she is now in the plateau and having a pretty good time as well. With me you ask? Well, I have moved on. My friend, I am a man with places to go and people to see. Interesting people like yourself to convince you to join me on my journey back to the plateau.

Where is the what? The form? Oh the membership form...yes yes of course, how stupid of me. You are itching to sign up and here I am ranting like an old fool. Well I am an old fool as you would have probably guessed from the way my hands shake as I hand out the pen for you to sign. But that's not just age. I get this way when new people sign up for the plateau. Watching their reaction and emotions when I they arrive is an experience I have been living for. How long? Oh boy, that's a naughty question. But I will forgive your dangerous curiosity and pretend you didn't ask that. Ah! There's your signature. Excellent.

Welcome son. Welcome to Hell. Oh and by the can take your place at that torture capsule over there...."

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


My Blackberry beeps. 

Groaning, i pull the device out of my pocket, and look at it. In the darkness, its whitish LED glow sends ripples of pain through my eyes before i can focus on the words in front of me. 10:38 PM, the small digital clock on the screen reads. Small notices, of new mails in my inbox, flash in the corner of the screen. Someone has left me a voice message as well. My to do list flashes brightly, with several 'incompletes', like a glowing testament of my inefficiency. My calender subtly reminds me that i am supposed to be in a conference call at the very moment.  

Damn it! I had totally blacked out. For nearly an hour... 

Somehow, I cannot bring myself to finding out what the mail was about or who was trying to reach me. The very thought, suffocates me. I close my eyes for a moment. Visions of hoardes of phone touting executives flash through my head. They are droning on and on about something and they are all approaching me, arms outstretched,  as if to strangle me. My breathing becomes visibly heavy and i realise a growing panic. I move the device away from me, almost as if being exposed to its rays can cause me severe brain damage. 

It feels good but for just a moment before the blackberry goes "beep!"

I begin to feel my hands start to shiver a bit and i drop the device onto the seat beside me. Beads of sweat begin to trickle over my forehead and neck and i struggle to breathe. "Beep", the blackberry goes again and i am now fighting for my breath. I gasp loudly. Loud enough for the driver to turn and look at me in concern. 

"Sir, are you all right?"

"Yes", I answer, not very convincingly. The driver turns away, not convinced of my answer. But he doesnt care. No one does, really.

The car continues to plough through the empty freeway. I look out through the tinted windows at far away lights inside homes. Probably, a family was having dinner. I feel alone. I am not really alone, am I. Alone is the state where you have only your thoughts to focus on. But i had more than just my thoughts. 

I consider the silent device lying face down on the seat near me and suddenly feel very silly.

What the hell was I doing? It was just a piece of silicon, plastic and metal that someone, a low wage worker leading a brutal existance, built, in some factory in China. How did it assume such a big personality that 30 years of my existance cant dominate it? I can choose how i use it, cant I?. What the hell was i now getting paranoid about, anyway. I ponder on this for a while and reach no real conclusions.

I pick up the blackberry as it beeps yet again. Another mail in. The little black devil vibrates in my hand as if it is mouthing an evil curse in morse code. I feel infected. A strange uneasy sensation passes through me accompanied by glimpses for my to dos and conference calls. I begin to shiver and drop the phone in the process. The chunky device thuds onto the soft carpeted floor of the car and rolls beneath my seat. I sit there feeling the futility of it all. Eventually the device would be the victor. As if to underline my point, the driver turns and announces "Sir, we are here"

Time to leave. And time to pick up the phone. 

I reach down, my fingers feeling the soft floor, trying to grab my phone; except i cannot find it! Seeing my plight, the driver switches on the light filling the inside of the car with an ugly yellow glow. I look around for the phone in vain. My hands reach under the dark depths of the seat, shivering with tension, as my fingers fail to close in on the cold lifeless form i was expecting. Flustered, i begin to rummage on the floor and under the seat. Not a trace. More confused than frustrated, i check my pockets again. No device. Finally, after nearly 15 minutes looking in vain, i give up. I instruct my driver to hand the device over when he finds it and walk back. 

I feel free. Liberated. The air around me richer. As i walk to my home, i realise that the streets are wet. It had been raining. There is a pleasant smell in the air. 

"Sir!", i halt. My heart sinking fast, i turn around. The driver is running toward me. His fists balled up, holding something. I know what it is. As he comes closer, the device gleams under the streetlamps. Its grinning its evil grin. 

"Found it!", the driver says, panting, happy as he hands it over gingerly, almost with reverence. He knows. He knows who his boss is. It isnt me; he knows. The Blackberry. He knows. 

But it was time. Time to show him who the boss was. 

I look at the blackberry; my mind conjures a million ways to establish my dominance right there. I could throw it way like an outfielder on a cricket ground. I could stamp on it like those over sized wrestlers. I could dissect it part by part, with the fiendish glee of hannibal lecter, and savour every moment of its distruction. I had to think fast. The driver has to see me do it. 

The phone rings; My client. Status update on the upcoming workshop? Urgent meeting? Query on the deliverable? 

May be i should just take this one final call.  It could be important. I can choose when i want to destroy the device. The driver is walking back now. I feel like a man who was on the cusp of getting out a deep dark precipice slipping back into it. My fingers arent holding any longer and i slip back into the abyss.

I press the green answer button on the phone, "Hello?"

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

A movie made in hell

Aditya chopra went on a hiatus for 8 years. Perhaps, during this time, he sold his soul to the devil and has come back to carry on satan's evil work; to unleash upon this world; a pain so massive; a cruelty so gruesome; a movie so boring that he can be called a facist. The problem with 'Rab ne bana di jodi' ( i am already beginning to snooze before i can type out the entire name) is not that it is bad, it is so bad that i might be looking at some serious therapy time. I did contemplate on whether i should spend my time writing about this dredge, but decided that a post on this - in its own small way - is a social service to humanity and a serious boost to my social guilt conscience (which takes a serious blow everytime i bribe a cop). 

Rab ne starts off as a slow, acceptable mediocrity devolves into silly tripe and becomes the cess pit of wasted screen time and tortured audiences. Perhaps, just perhaps, if despite the pathetic screenplay, everything else had been good, it would have been watchable (barely). But when there is only one real actor in the movie - even he, at times, takes a dip to the realms of dramatized 'overacting' (perhaps all the talk about how great an actor he is is getting to his head) - backed with average music, cliched dialogues and utterly silly base off which the entire movie is built there is only one way the movie is going to take you - downhill into hell. 

Rab ne will easily rank among the worst movies i have ever seen in my life. Coming from someone, who has had his diet of Vijay movies in tamil, it is a serious allegation. Even in some of the crappiest movies there have been some rare moments when i have marvelled at a little technical artistry with the camera or a piece of awesome soundtrack or even some interesting exchange of dialouges. But i am at a loss to recall any single 5 minute stretch when i was engrossed in this movie at all. Horrible screenplay, monotonous dialogues, meandering story with no real purpose (at least to me), worst female actress i have seen (she just looks like a well dressed barbie in most of the scenes) and just a hollow nothingness that stretches for nearly 3 hours and make you want to drink your way to sanity in the end!!

Dont even make your worst enemy watch this....