My big, bad world.

I’m a small girl.

I’m a small girl in a big world.

I’m a nice, small, young girl in a big, old, bad world. And my senses always force me to question the same big world…

Dear world, Why’re you so bad? You weren’t born bad. You don’t even look bad, you’re so nice and colorful and beautiful. Did your parents bring you up bad so you turned out bad too? Or someone hurt you too bad that you thought being bad was an answer back? Oh no! Do tell me, World, your reason of being mean and nasty.

Bah!

Okay, no beating about the bush. My conscience has ceaselessly strained me with questions, my inner voice perpetually thumping my cerebral walls with a hammer. Thud thud thud.

My poor brain wants to know why it does not feel safe anymore. It wants to know why its crust is always battered by sounds of guns, cries of agony and the sodden feel of blood. It reasons to know why its owner cannot roam freely in the city’s busiest market, or why she cannot walk the streets alone at night.

Why has the world suddenly turned so malicious? Why have words and actions become so ruthlessly hurtful? Why don’t people act polite and with a little bit of humility anymore? Why do we refuse to perform our duties honestly? Why don’t we offer a helping hand to someone in need? Why do we just not act nice and courteous any longer?

WHY.

The enemy is not outside, the enemy lies within us.

Think it over.

Welcome to Lallywood!

I was aware that the quaint little hamlet of Chilianaula, a little downhill from Ranikhet, had a great more deal on its palette other than the quintessential Himalayan range lodging sizeable trees of pine and massive cedars, and of course, the heavenly ashram of Shri Baba Haidakhan.


What I did not know was that in the premises of the Ashram, there ran an oddly attractive shed by the name of Rama Bar which sold the best dark chocolate in the most rustic variety! And the one who to brew froth outta it was a German –Punk- turned- Indian- Baba, who’d been residing in and out of the Ashram past 30 years now.

                                                                  

This guy, likely running in his fifties, ran a media house cum coffee hut, which, like I mentioned above, is, peculiarly, named Rama Bar. And tell you all, his is the most sophisticated, most hospitable, and most spiritual coffee shop I’ve come across ever. There’s coffee, chocolate, gadgets, Hanuman statues, pictographs, and many other small and big objects housed in the same little room, which is probably only 10 feet wide and just as long!

Seemingly, it all did seem interesting and wonderful enough to have a mention of it in my blog! 

                                                      

  
This, and more. He makes movies too.. like short films on Shri Baba. And he’s got his own media production house, apparently called : Lallywood TV. Just as unusual as it sounds, it comes from Lall Baba. Oh yes, this guy’s called Christoph, a.k.a. Lall Baba! Hence, the name of the production unit.

Disclosing a smidgen bit more information here would sway me away from my purpose of keeping the fascination intact. I, therefore, stop.

I'm happy! :)

I am journalist.

Okaii. Much too talking.

I’m a journalist.. in the making. :P


I interview Miss India, i sip pineapple juice with a renowned writer at the Taj, and i grill down the director of the Archaeological Survey of India.

And then,


I travel back home at 9.30 in the night in the most demolished of auto rickshaws that reek of the worst stinks uttered from an Indian cakehole ever!

Nonetheless, I Love the present. Yeah..! :)

I have the world’s best friend who gladly takes off my shoes and washes my socks, apart from the great massage she gives my tired head/legs/back etc. every night and day!

Crap.

No she doesn’t! She’s not harebrained..!! But she DOES give me the world’s best head massage after we arrive home. Not to mention, she prepares every damn meal- from breakfast to lunch to tea to supper, although she’s as knew to this place as I am and has never before played housewife. :P
Really, she’s had, by far, been my biggest and strongest emotional backing, and has happily embraced my monstrous tantrums like none other.

                                                                                      

Moving on, im blessed with the earth’s nicest guy as my brother. He, who holds words for me such that they become god’s own. He, who calls me every freakin day to babytalk for hours! He, who’s the most adorable thing when he becomes serious! And he, who seems to be on the brighter, lighter, righter side Always!

                                                                     
My mum’s not exactly my best friend, but nothing less than that either.The poor thing has this special knack of fretting at the slightest news, whether or not it affects her daughter. Typically mother-like! :) Coming from a great family of intellectuals, she has inculcated in me values that have been my ground. I’ve seen my mother grow with me. From being a stern disciplinarian, she has come a long way to being this jolly old woman who wouldn’t stop her daughter form doing what she wishes. We’ve had our times of fun, and it’d be sensible if I refrain myself from telling them here.

My father- the best example of a self-made man. The second best thing about him- he’s far too good looking for his age. He’s 5o plus but doesn’t look a day younger beyond 40! Sadly, however, I haven’t had my times of “great father daughter bonding”, and this I may attribute to the fact I myself never allowed him to dwell into my personal life. Yet, he’s a great guy- by far- the most honest, most disciplined, and most innocent man I know. He is so seedha, he doesn’t know how to strike a conversation with my friends! And then he ends up getting pally with them in the most hilarious manner while I continue wondering how im gonna make up for it later!

                                                                          
     

Enough, before it gets far too personal.

Im happy with the present. Im glad its happening. I wouldn’t wanna change it any bit, but for the better. Extremely thankful to God.

As for travelling within confined spaces with rotten gobs, I hope to find an alternative soon!

Good Souls Are Forgotten

am lost.

Losing track o' my life,

Losing me.



I don’t know me,

Where I belong is mystery.

My life seems big,

Big, so it forgets the small blessings!

Blessings of an aged time, when

Small gifts would adorn my ways,

Sunshine smiles lit up my days!



My Todays struggle for an identity.

Charms fallen into deep misery..

These smiles show mockery,

These praises hint jealousy!

Tiny memories are buried underneath,

Loved ones are left afar..

Blooded rains flow ajar.



This phase is tough,

Life's short on luck!

Bad's in fashion..





Good souls are forgotten,

Good souls are forgotten.

_____________________

The Human Humdrum

One world,
One God,
One blood- Red.




One government,
One 9/11,
Survival.




One nation,
One cricket match,
Countless prayers.




One cross,
One faith,
Infinite believers.




One country,
One leader,
Pride and honour.




One woman,
One man,
Love.




One frown,
Ten smiles,
Emotions.




One job,
First salary,
Deep contentment.




One temple,
One hundred beggars,
Ten coins.




One stolen car,
Two thieves,
Confusion.




One cigarette,
Five drags from five mouths,
Friendship.




One father,
One son,
A happy Sunday afternoon




One birthday party,
One cake,
Twenty hungry kids.




One crayon,
Several pieces,
Childhood.




One chocolate,
One chocolate smudged mouth,
Innocence.




One girl,
Umpteen lipsticks,
One dream.




One algebra class,
2.40 P.M,
Forty snoring kids.




One day,
Two exams,
Graduation.




One falling star,
Five wishes,
None true.




One man,
Three women,
Infidelity.




One bread,
Seventeen mouths,
Hardships.




One gathering,
One crisp remark,
Riots.




One river,
Seven cities,
One stop.




One sun,
A thousand billion souls,
One illume.




One flower,
Serene bloom,
Perfume.




One planet,
Seven continents,
People.




One globe,
A hundred billion faces,
Identity.


One body,
One soul,
One life.




One race,
Some faiths,
One truth- Death.

                                                

                                                                                                                    

Exam blues!

                                                                                         
4.25 am: I am happily driving through the beautifully winding roads of Naini. Green and serene beauty.. What bliss!

                                                                     

4.30 am: Dang! Wtf is that sound! This noisy bugger of a birthday tune.. Here, in the middle of this green !??             
                               

                                                             
4.32 am: A phone on vibration repeating and re-repeating the most vexatious 'Happy Birthday' instrumental ever. My alarm.

4.32 am, some seconds: A jolting start with a beautiful dream stopped dead. The first thing i wake up to in the morning is the sound of my stomach- Deep churning growls, loud enough to give me a jump start!

4.35 am: The next thing i realise is that it wasn't a poor woman's stomach after all, but the old ceiling fan of my room which had come to an abrupt slow motion while doing its normally electrified rounds! It was sadly running in a crummy way producing such sounds that resembled a crying-dying factory!

4.36 am: Unsure if i was yet fully up.
4.37 am: Still deciding.
4.40 am: Dozed off sitting lopsided on the bed.
                                                                     

                                                                  
4.45 am: Alarm snoozes again. A terrible history exams faces me in the wake of this terribly unpleasant morning!

4.46 am: Is when i realise that my stomach too had, however, been playing an important role all this while and the sounds DID really happen, for I'd been hungry all night. Finally wake up at 5.00 from a jiffy of a sleep(read, 2.5 hours), eyes still heavily laden with sleep, and an unsatiated mind craving for heaps more! Following a quick scan of the room, sit down to mug up my remaining answers without bothering to wash my eyes. Or even cleanse my stinking mouth! Continue mindlessly mugging up as many answers as i could, with not the slightest hint of what exactly i was cramming!

Mugged 'em up till 8.15.

                                                             
5.00 am- 7.25 am: Frequent breaks in the middle include those of inhaling air(read, breathing), running an aimless finger through my untidy mass of hair, rubbing my eyes to ward off some remaining sleep, trying to widen my eyes in between so i could read more than i was being able to, some angered curses at the sight of my peacefully sleeping roommate, and damn! Some utterly inane staring at the pink plastered walls( slyly appreciating my photographs pasted there! :P)

                                                   

7.25 am : Suddenly see two orphaned sheets of paper raising their sly heads from beneath my study table. What on earth is that!? I wonder. Bend down to pick them up. Wrinkle my nose at the sight of some thick, muggy dust. Title reads: "Westward expansion of 17th century Holland." Wtf! My missing assignment finally found its way back?

                                                     

7.35 am: Ugh. More ugh. A quick glance at the cellphone tells me I'm already running outta time. Precious time running outta my non-precious hands(the same chubby hands that had never written a class assignment all year!)

P.S: The missing tutorial belonged to a friend, if that's something your wondering. :P

7.35 am, some seconds: Realise that the titled topic was something of a jackpot. A question that's repeated every year in the University! I continue making heartless attempts at reading it. Deep inside i KNOW I'm never going to make it.

7.58 am: Oh darn! Already 8!

8.00 am: Still lapsing into worry.
                                                       

                                                                    
8.02 am: The phone rings and there's Carrie Underwood loudly banging her voice to Cowboy Casanova. I wanna shake a leg.. Yeah baybeh!!
          

                                                                 

8.02 am, some seconds: Hey Maa, I've an exam. Starting in another 40 minutes. Hafta rush. Something important? " Hello beta. Did you wake up on time? And have you had breakfast yet? What about the heat? Is it bothering you too much ... " Maa, anything else? " No no.. er, and you were saying you're having eggs.. ??" Mom! Not eggs. EGXAMS!! %^&*$* Bad signal. The line thankfully disconnects.              

                                                

8.06 am: I Rummage quickly through my study table for my belongings: Pencil box, notes, extra pens, hand towel, wrist watch, ruler.. (lol!)

8.07 am: Further rummaging through my wardrobe for a decent set of clothes

8.09 am: Staring puzzled at my heap of clothes.

                                                 

8.09 am, some seconds: More staring.

8.10 am: Still hunting for clothes.

8.10 am: Finally, zero down on a pair beige shorts and a navy blue Tee to don me and my European history exam!

8.11 am: My roommate goes: You ain't bathing?

8.11 am: Er, no. Noohh..! ( Gawd! someone save me the embarrassment!)
                                                              

                                                               

8.20 am: Gotten fully dressed by now. Yes, i did brush my teeth, but my bad routine allowed me no poo! Also wetted my hair to give the impression of a shower. Stupidly clever! :P

8.21 am: Oh I'm feeling giddy-ish! My brains cannot comprehend the present state of events. Guess I'm hungry. But sadly, have no access to food considering we don't get any breakfast here. I decide to quickly shove some GoodDays into my mouth. The biscuits should hopefully work my hapless tummy. :(

8.22 am:Need a revision. Have forgotten everything from last night! Feudalism, Colonial expansion, Crisis of the 17th century, Sceintific Revolution in England, Italian Renaissance.. Oh wait! When did Spain decline?

           Realise i was clutching onto my bed, when my nails finally began hurting the naked skin of my palm. Sweating profusely, my clueless mind decides to take some rest on its own.

8.25 am: Some good deep breathing( this time real breathing!) miraculously calms me down. My roommate, who is up by now, brings me back from my trance and frantically urges me to hurry.
                               

                                                     

8.25 am: A wide eyed me 'zealously' throws back my hair in rage. "Exam! I'm gonna do you. AND, do you well. You geddit!"  .. emerges a loud, shuddering cry from my throat: Methods of self encouragement. Only those who never study should attempt a try. Not meant for intelligent nerds. :D

        

                                                                   
8.26 am: Great. I feel great! Oh i feel so sublime. Oooh! Heavy weights just got lifted off me, you see! :P

                                                                   
8.27 am: Receive the call of my friend who tells me he's waiting at my back gate. Another one who tells me to hurry. Another one to shake me from my trance, this time, the 'zealous' one! Lol ..!

8.28 am: I draw another deep breath- a long stretched one, which lifts the cover of my nostrils. My roommate tells me i look devastatingly horrid. :D

8.28 am, some seconds: Quickly pack my belongings up. Stop at the table praying to Lord Hanuman to kindly grant me strength to fight the blues of another dreadful exam. Lord Hanuman rather chooses to keep mum.

                                                                         
8.29 am: Trudge the three whole winding flights of steps down my room. Slow and deliberate. Each step tells me it is unable to bear the weight of my 44 kilo body and the drab looming mind it supports.

                                                                                                                              

8.30 am: Step out in the open. Finally see the light of the day- the beautiful sun resplendent in all its glory. So much so that it dazzles the eye and hurts. :P

                                                                  
8.30 am, some seconds pass: A mind full of fear, trouble, anxiety, lethargy, and great regrets for having wasted another year into not studying! AND, not making proper assignments so they sneak their dodgy faces at the end moment and make me nauseous..
                                                          

                             Life! As I know it.

                                      

Headed nowhere, my life's scramble

                                                                 

                                                                                                                              
I lie still. Unmoving. Jaded and dazed. Walking my mind through this dense forest of thoughts that magically throw me into some unknown past.. I have nowhere to run, no place to go.


The present hour sickens, kills, mocks, disgusts and presses me down under. Im shoved deeper- deeper and harder into a dark hollow that sees no hope of light at the other end. Sees no escape. With faint and surreptitious moves, invisible hands hurl me farther below, and my frantic cries of hapless misery are as insignificant as a needle dropped in water, so it quietly settles down without creating the slightest stir.

I bear an emptiness within me; similar to the one that dwells in the parting of two endeared souls. There’s weightlessness created by the massive vaccum which my little heart so nonchalantly endures- these bravado endorsements being for the outside world. There’s pomp and gusto and gamble and game, which rambles on from between my ribs, time and again.
                        

                                                                            
Stupid and vague as it seems, this is, an account of my life. Writing which I am so confused that it appears well in my utter disarray of words!

My life- a life which everyone thinks is blessed and beautiful. Beautiful so it dearly embraces all the ugliness and blessed, so it neatly encompasses every gory curse thrown (laughingly) at it.

But oh! I have a good life.. the nicest of sorts! Superficially, it may seem like the happiest song ever sung, but what lies down below the music, is plain rat-tat-tat.. Absolute nothingness. ___________________

                                                                                                   

Great! Now I know, how earnestly you say you’re my Friend!