Friday, 15 November 2013

God, Im so sorry

I am not a fan of Sachin Tendulkar.

There. Would that be enough to get your attention? Well, it has always been the truth. He used to play aggressively they say. Then he changed and adjusted his innings as best suited his aging body which was plagued by the injuries, famous of them all - the Tennis Elbow.

I was arrogant enough to say I didn't give a damn where and how he batted. All what concerned me was that he scored runs as a Team India player and that was enough and that was all there was to it. At least to my blinded eyes. India weren't exactly a superpower in cricket then. Oh, save the tomatoes and spoilt eggs. I'm no fool to incur the wrath of a nation by a single blogpost which speaks ill about The Greatest Cricketer The World Will Ever Know. (Is this title longer than He Who Must Not Be Named? You bet.) This is what happened.

Yesterday - 14th November, 2013  18:00 hours
The attendance shortage was alarming. This was my first in my seven semesters of university life. Life had to go on. Something had to be done. But why in this world was everyone harping about Tendulkar? Cmon people, give him a break, he's also a human being as far his physical form goes.

Every turn, every corner, you could hear people buzzing about his achievements, stats, numbers, figures....aargh! It just went on. I mean, 200 is just a number. And I had a lab exam coming up. Was I too selfish?

Years Ago
I remembered my dad cheering and constantly praising Sachin. And I nodded, not wanting to disagree with my own dad. Deep down inside, I didn't feel any different about Tendulkar than any other Indian player. Maybe, and this is really a maybe, I was a Dravid fan and I felt hurt when he was often overshadowed by Tendulkar's knocks which came almost in the same matches in which Dravid scored.

Yesterday - 14th November 2013  01:00 am
And then, all of a sudden, there was no way out of the attendance problem. And my preparations for the laboratory exam went awry. After much discussions and walking and talking, people slowly retired to their rooms. My watch read 01:36 am.

Bored, I took my phone and switched it on. What IS the nation saying? Twitteratti were all gaga over #ThankYouSachin #SRT200. More than 7 articles in the last 3 days were about Tendulkar in Cricinfo - his life, his first test century, his brief Yorkshire stint and excerpts from legends all over the world about his glittering career.

Sunday, 13 October 2013


As usual, straight from my experiences. Only this time, I had 2 of them in 3 days. And here it goes.
The gifts lay untouched, the wishes remained unconveyed, stale.
The mind numb with shocked silence
Unable to comprehend and come to terms
With the sudden malignant growth
Of that ice block so hard
That even Time with his iron grip
Squeezed and melted only a droplet or two
Of that burdensome block of sorrow.
Such was the ice, so thick so harsh
That made the winters of Hell look realistically bearable.

The efforts went unnoticed, the heartfelt emotions stagnant.
The soul bereft of happy wavelengths
Searching in vain and find out
What wrong he had committed
In births of his distant past
To suffer a fate so disdainful
Where there was Hate returned in double measure
For the exchange of his earnest Love for all beings alike
From his tiny heart which once swelled with magnanimity
Now deflated with confusion and punctured with hurt.

If only his heart was ripped apart
And displayed for the cruel, unassuming world to see
They would witness aghast, with regret so deep
A love shaped purity kept alive, pumped by Universal Love
Flowing in his veins that pulsed innocence to the truly understanding.
Innocence that screamed helplessly
For the world to be forgiving, mutual and deep-rooted
In openness, sharing and selflessness, all but now extinct.
But alas, they played and plucked and toyed and clawed
At his heart, eroded excruciatingly by Pain immeasurable

He did wince once, a weak smile or two
When a voice of yore echoed the prophetic truth
That stood the test of Time:
“Who shall be blamed except your own self
For raising expectations? For, once the thread is broken,
There shall never be
A second time, let alone the intensity or the feeling”
He nodded humbly, embracing his own wisdom.
The preacher became the preached as the drops of sorrow
Dripped from that block of ice, Time’s iron clasp
Finally cleansing, trickle by trickle, the soul of his sins.

Monday, 23 September 2013

The Eternal Optimist Unplugged - Version 1.0

"Mirror, mirror, mirror on my shelf
Am I doing well for myself?"

I mentally echoed this question off my mirror and I saw the reflection of a tired teenager with sunken eyes without the glow of continuous energy he once had.

I'm here with this post to make a....ah, what's that phrase? 'a clean breast of everything' to the best possible extent. And this might not be just about me. You may be in the same boat as me in the same lake, or perhaps in a cruise in the ocean ways with no visible captain steering that unstable ship of your life. So, you might be able to do yourself a favor by reading on.

Friday, 12 July 2013

THE Autodriver - Hidden truths about Chennai

Let me skip the part where I say this happened when I was doing my internship and I chose to meet up with my almost-always-awfully-late but an awesome project partner in the evenings at Express Avenue - Chennai's best and most celebrated mall in the recent times. Simply put, the atmosphere was condusive there. Well, there was this fashion show that took place with gorgeuos models with glowing skin and rich dresses which I shall....Ahem ahem...conveniently skip (Now now, no groaning) to discuss matters of greater significance.

Note: All conversations are in English, for readers' convenience.

"Express Avenue", I said firmly to an auto I just managed to catch in a road that literally boasted CARS loudly.

"Evalo aavum (How much is the fare)", I asked promptly before setting my right foot inside the vehicle.

"Nooru ruva."

I set my right foot firmly inside the auto, carefully stowed my laptop bag to the side and started the trip, satisfied with his character. Little did I know that my next sentence would be the basis for this very post you are now reading.

Tuesday, 9 July 2013

The Scare - 1

Saying "I was busy" is no excuse. Calling myself a passionate blogger without a single entry for four months is of not something I can be proud of. But after months of hectic last moment-work completion-due-to-initial-laziness routine, I finally fought through my holidays to do an internship when I encountered this particular and a true incident where I finally thought, "Hey, this would make a good story to tell." So folks, welcome back to my blog and Happy reading!

Note to readers:
1.Short stories are not (yet) my forte. Proceed at your own reading risk!
2. Places not revealed for personal reasons.

Headache. Upset stomach. Where is the damn train?

I looked at my watch. 3:55 pm. Krishnan was busy jabbing away on his phone. Was it a girlfriend? None of my business, I chided myself.

Krishnan who? Well, It was my second week into my internship at Z. Krishnan was one of my project mates. We had a swell first week and a not so-swell second week. Reasons for that were my health, our randomness and our realization of "Woah, this a vast subject", all in that order. My stomach took a turn for the worse and here I was whispering prayers to all the gods I knew to take me home safely before my body betrayed me!

The station at Z was where we always stood to take our local train. Krishnan got down at A and a few stops later, it was my station B. Today, we arrived earlier at the station, quite earlier than our usual 5:15 train. I guess that's enough introduction.

"I am going to kill myself if its the same dingy train that came yesterday. Dude, tell those samosa hawkers not to get into this one. Absolutely no place man", I said, keeping a straight face with a contantly twisting stomach, trying to sound cool.

Krishnan looked up and threw his typically distracted I-type-yet-I-hear-you-without-distraction smile. Many people I knew,always asked Krishnan whether he was trying to be a military man with that tight posture, restricted lip movements and a sound physique. He appreciated humor of any kind with open arms, but was generally a silent person. No point distracting him.

Long honking cushioned with Doppler Effect. Phew! The train arrived. Not dingy. Double phew!

Empty with seats!!! Triple phew! Triple Yay in fact. After jumping compartments like two excited school kids, we settled down in a first class compartment which was empty, barring two people.

"Who's bag is this?" , Krishnan asked and plonked himself next to the window seat.

"Bag? What bag?", I asked.

This is where, my dear kind readers, the story finally begins.

It was a harmless looking red shoulder bag with black sling. With the letters TNROA printed on it.

I had this habit of trying to answer people's questions without giving a no. So, I switched to Sherlock Holmes mode. Half guessed the fact that he was a tall man judging by the length of the sling. Quite a careful and an economical fella when it came to matters of money. Well, the fact that it appeared worn but well used was really a giveaway. TNROA? I didnt have Holmes' brain.

"Tamil Nadu Revenue Officials Association", I exclaimed after a minute. I could tell you I was superhuman. Nah. Il be honest. Krishnan saw me googling it.

"So, he's a revenue officer? Hope he wont check our tickets.", I thought.

"What dya reckon? A bomb inside that?", asked Krishnan. Damn you man. You had this knack of hyping petty things up and sizing huge things down.

"Dont be silly man! Bomb? In a local train? Gimme a break.", I said fending off his loudly spoken thought.

"There's no one in this compartment. Somebody left it here, didnt they? Looks like it was on purpose.", persisted my partner.

For the first time in my life, I regretted reading crime novels and action thrillers.

"Dai dai, dont give me the creeps. My stomach i already weak."

By this time, our train crossed 2 stations and was chugging along to a halt on the platform of D. Here was where the nearby college's "hot chicks" and other college boys would get in. Three of those "other" boys got in.

Now, Im going to give them names. They played such a vital part in this one. Let me see...
Im calling them Ipod, Racer and Foodie. Ipod cos this guy was hooked on to it after the bag incident, Racer as he started playing that bike game and Foodie because he was pleasantly round, chubby get it, dont you? Hey, dont blame me. In my defense, he WAS carrying a Food Management course book or something!

"Excuse me, but can you keep your bag on your lap?", asked Racer.

Oh dear! This was going to be one long train journey!

Who owned this bag? Why was it left here? Was that actually a bomb?
Well, it wasnt a bomb, cause I'm alive typing this. I'll conclude this part with one no-brainer of a clue as to what you can expect. 'The Scare' turned out to be ironic.

To be continued.


Wednesday, 20 March 2013

Fighting tooth and nail for a Q5

The title is an exaggeration. Not exactly tooth and nail. But I did as he told. 'He' meaning my dad.

"So, 10 on 10. Will you get it this semester?"

No way. Was he asking for the unreachable? All this for an Audi?

Well, Audi is and must be gifted for special reasons and occasions. So no excuses there. The brand is for people who reach out and 'ready to die trying' people. Like me. So yeah, i wanted to give it my best shot for the next semester exams. Continuous evaluation in college made life hell with all sorts of record writing, etc. But I wanted to try. I tried protesting.

"You know, dad, that my highest score is nowhere near that!"

Dad was a stickler. An ethics guy. But a cool guy. He was willing to buy even 2 Audis for me. His love for Audi started way back when he worked for different automotive companies. He always prided on brand value and Audi was no exception.

"In 2012, Audi kept leaders BMW and Merc worried about their lead in the Indian markets. Audi grew the fastest at 79% a quarter ago and I stake my bets on Audi. Cmon son, they are doing their best to break more than even and stay at no 1, why the hell can't you put the same effort??''

There. I stared incredulously. My own dad compared me with a car! There you go, that's the kind of love we are talking about. Intensely fierce competition runs down in our blood and that spices things up. Audi is no different.

"But dad, I want the Q5 So badly! The SUV for a new generation.Just like me dad, "Convincing without being persuasive." Its sportive without being unreasonable giving efficient driving pleasure.", I reeled off these words as exactly given in the description of the Q5 at, straight from my mind!!

My dad, however, didnt miss the trick. "Those were from the site, wasnt it??"

I grinned sheepishly, hands scratching my head. He started walking away with a smile.

I was a single guy all life long. I could depend on Audi to pick up the right chick for me. Hell yeah, only best friends know the right kind of girl for you. Well, I love the Audi more than my girlfriends anyway, if i ever get one. I could silently drive through the night and my Audi would keep company for my thoughts. Steering was the least worrisome affair. A friend of mine once told me he would'nt trade his Audi even for his right lung! Yeah, he was a smoker alright.

"Just imagine the class I would proudly show, Dad! You know I've worked hard! give it another thought na??"

He stopped in his tracks and turned. I half expected him to dangle those brand new Q5 keys from his hands.

"Son, let me give you a piece of advice. With Audi, there are no second thoughts. Likewise, for you, there are no second chances. You want an Audi, go and put your damn effort. Now run. Atta Boy!", said my dad and walked away with a final flourish.

Guess what I'm gonna do next? Get that elusive baby. That one of a kind beauty. Who wants a gal when Audi is that mistress who lets you indulge in her? I wasnt satisfied with my new Audi scale model. I want the real thing. All of it. Im going after her.

Now, if anyone asks my readers what my first love was, they'd tell you, in glowing terms, that I was a nutjob who loved Audi like no-one ever did. So much for love. So much for Audi.


My Love - My Audi

This is exclusive and specially for the Audi fans and for the competition #LoveAudi on Twitter. After a sleepless night and some soul-searching, I contructed this and won an Audi scale model:

For others, tis a poem. For me, tis an etched story
of Audi - a car of my dreams - my take with history.
For now, on Twitter, you stay a top trend.
But forever, at heart, you are my dream friend.

You stand out, true to 'Vorsprung Durch Technik'
so yeah, girls ogle daily, over your physique.
Your rings are symbolic and of inspiration
to all those who toil and buy this manufacturing innovation.

From the times of Type E, 80s and TDI
now dealing with Bodyshells, FSI and MMI,
you came in sedan, coupe and roadster,
stood the test of time, still very hipster.

The R8 curvy, boasting king size luxury.
The A8L sporty is all too stylish and vervy!
Elegance, sportsmanship, performance and class,
its too much emotion one cannot pass!

You ooze love from all royal sides,
be it the insides, body or the flashy lights.
'My oh my!' You evoke that desire
among celebs- kings of power and attire.

Lots and loads to express, may I say?
As love limitless pours throughout this day.
Not Enough! But speechless I'll always be
when I spot an Audi anywhere, yeah true, that's me.

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

The 'Juice' of my life.

Twitter competitions are a rage now. Everyone at office, college, home or outdoors are madly tweeting way to win something. For people who organize it, it is a great promotion. Win-Win.
This, however, is not just a poem for winning. It is a true story. For the #HangoutWithFizz competition conducted by Appy

The first drop soothed the tongue
of ripe and bitter tastes of the past.
Scared at first, doubtful I hung,
of your inherent sweetness, 'Would it last?'

We bonded, like two hesitant people
over dinner, functions and parties.
With time, we became a known couple
intimate than any known pair of hotties!

You made me drunk, you made me happy
with apples and sugar, ofcourse dear Appy
whose every drop was a kiss
of new life I would never miss.

There were times good and bad
but with my Appy, I never once felt sad.
The comfort you gave, I never (untill now) realized
but you gave it to me, fully chilled and iced!

'Wish you had eyes, that would sweetly blink'
But one day, Hey, I swear I saw you wink

when i mentioned, 'Friends, do try him out,

He'll be your coolest best forever friend, no doubt!'

My thanks is lost. Speechless, I have no words
xcept the musical tune and those whistling birds
who sang your glory and cried,
'May your HAPPINESS spread far and wide"

Friday, 1 March 2013

Im being eaten up alive!!

I have gone nuts. I cant take drugs, go high or start shooting people. So, I turned to writing this one.

I'm not on drugs, I aint sane either.
I have no satisfaction, life, contentment neither.
Walking barely, zombie-alike
I strive to make sense in this one, Intense dislike
spewing from within, for no apt reason.
For all I know, this aint the success season.
March forth I did, with all smiles and confidence
Now, my faith is shaken, my mind is barren, clean but ripe with diffidence.
I feel my soul being sucked, my youth being plucked
(Hey, wasnt I strong when I withstood the thrown filth and muck?)
by the iron clasp of laziness and procrastination.
Although it does rhyme, the solution aint drugs and (chuckles) masturbation.

Once glorious, now sullen
but it hurts a lot, the change being sudden.
Lots of work, lots of responsibility.
I was ready long ago. Now, I've lost the capability
to be patient, to be forthcoming, to be bright,
to be happy, to be busy and to always be right.
Where is my soul? Where is my authority?
Desperately wanting my old self back, who lived with sense and priority.
I write a poem , when I grow sad,
happy, ballistic and in this case, MAD.
Save my soul, I need prayers
not heartless bastards, bitches and soothsayers!

Thursday, 21 February 2013


I must say I am very busy with my 6th semester at the University taking a toll on many students with Record Submissions, extra curricular activities and what not. But I must say, writing certainly is the most sanest way of communicating with yourself. Nobody is going to whisper among themselves, " Gee, why is he talking to himself?"

So here I am, after a long gap, to fill in my readers with a poem I had written a year ago. Intense emotions of a kind swept me through and all I saw around me was darkness. I still recall that night, pen trembling at 1 15 am, sitting in another room letting my ink flow instead of tears.....

"Pain", I cry out
desperate and loud,
to escape 
the 5' 8" bodily torture,
enclosing forlorn thoughts, silent suffering
and predominantly
the humongous live being called pain
thriving upon my life
malnourishing and robbing it
of its color, joy and splendor.

"I'm in my own world."
Or so they say.
Little do they know that
I'm sharing that very world with Pain
who seeped through my limbs like
some unsavory invisibly matter.
"Ouch"- It bites nowadays
if not, hurts stronger.
Festive days and happy faces all around.
Is my life purpose over? 
Surely they wont leave me out, 
ditch me and forget me 
during and after that.
Surely not.

One turned neck, one question of concern,
one wave of sympathy.
Is hoping for this, all in vain?
Bordering on a fine line parting
self pity and selflessness,
I wonder,
Does no one want even help?
A fake smile, an air of pretended greatness
consciously ignoring the down slide of this birth. 
Enough of this melodrama!

Far away, near the gates of the netherworld,
I can spot the connoisseur of Death
and Death himself,
with comforting arms wide open.
Let me sink and fade away
into insignificance,
into the sleep which offers none a second chance,
into His permanent embrace
where I'll lie content eternally.

Tuesday, 1 January 2013

For a change

Actually, I typed up this for the prompt at DVersePoets called Change and Turns but I ended up missing it as the widget link for my entry expired just as I logged in.

This is for the first week of Open Link Night in 2013.

For a change,
let there be joy
in suburbs, countrysides and hamlets alike
in embracing life and growth
among all flora and fauna.

For a change,
let there prevail peace
without greed, hate and illness
for mutual existence and sustenance
of the human race and humanity.

For a change,
let there exist divinity
in all glory, success and adventure
in every being's actions
that contributes to brotherhood and joy.

For a change,
let there be hope,
(in this New Year 2013)
for a  new world from now
fit for the generations to come.  

I wish all of you, whichever part of this world you are, a very happy, prosperous, healthy, wealthy and a peaceful New Year 2013. Oh yes, I almost got the year wrong :)

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