When the giant awakens...

The poem was inspired by this beautiful photo clicked by my friend and photographer extrodinaire Abhijeet Singh.

In the distance the giant awakens
fire in the belly, rising from slumber deep
red molten fury beneath a crust frozen over
rip the sky apart and make it weep.

He looks down and sees her dance

shiver, curl, swirl and crash

motion fluid yet every pulse of power

mould herself with every splash.

A worthy roar and a quiver of rage

a thrust of fire and boundaries break

Stallions of yellow and red gallop down the rocky breast

black soot of destruction in their wake.

She looks up at him with a loving gaze

her arms entwined to a cold embrace

white spray and rainbow hues aglow

forever nudging his rough surface.

And then the twine meet at long last

loud escape of hissing satisfaction

she holds him close, he pushes into her

now, as one, in neutral inaction.

Rapid fire Writing my thoughts out!

Somewhere at the airport, lost in time and with nothing to do is when I realize the words that have welled and swelled up inside me over the past few months. It's been ages since I wrote. Checked back at my blog today and realized the last post was in August. Yeah, then. Writing was...probably, yes probably still is my passion and my blog, my confidante. I doubt myself because I barely get time to write these days.
Come to think of it, why did I start writing in the first place? I daydreamed all day long. Two hour travelling time alone makes you do such things. Well, that and my mind was always an adventure to me. I close my eyes and I'm off to middle-earth, battling orcs and crazed dragons, firing up energy in the mere palms of my hands and blocking out immense balls of fire shot at me by wizards from lands unknown. Then there were the more real situations...not so real too probably because I like to put myself in movies that I love, be it the romantic Sound of Music, hilarious Home Alone, fist pumping fast paced Bruce Lee tourneys or a plain action packed guns-ablaze flick to entertain. Yeah, I'm my own hero. There's a thousand different worlds in my mind, all connected by a single soul - me. With the flick of an eyelid I can travel between worlds, stop time, lift off into space, save the earth, win the hearts of a hundred damsels in distress. Just the same, I would be the one protecting my loved ones, losing out all in the end. I don't know..It's all in my head and they keep popping up sometime or the other. And that's why I started writing in the first place. These worlds, these friends and foes come to me and disappear quite as quickly as they come. The world between the flickering blurs of my dreams and reality is what I want to record. Remember as and when I please. Sometimes I try to fly and I cannot. I try hard. Really hard, yet I cannot. That used to happen in my world of childhood days. Now, I fly. But this I can remember, the stories where I wanted to fly, I cannot. The blur you find when you start to forget, I want to erase. That's why I started writing.
Thoughts are your own. They're supposed to be private. Sometimes you cannot voice your thoughts for reasons galore. They may come out in the form of actions, when you talk about it with someone you trust completely, sometimes they may not manifest at all. But those stories in your head? Ones where you think you can relate to, the ones you tend to remember after you wake up, or long after you've stopped thinking about them? They're those thoughts surfacing. I prefer to let them surface whenever they want. That's one way of keeping a straight head. Thinking rational. Writing them down, blogging for that matter, let me talk to that unseen face that listened, did not react. And when it reacted, there were a hundred different voices, some agreeing to what I say, some that countered, some that appreciated how I put my words, some, again, criticized. I enjoy sharing my thoughts without making sense of them on my own.

Back to the stories. Sometimes, especially at the end of the day, when I'm walking alone, taking a walk or just plain loitering, I think of people..the people around me...my friends, my family, the ones close to me. Even some not-so-close to me. Having that bit of time to yourself is a luxury these days. And many a times, those stories in my head form around what I feel should have been..what actions he/she should have taken. What I would have done had I been in his/her place. Is that really necessary? Why should I be bothered with what someone else does? Because I think it's good to learn. Analyze. That's my forte. Probably might be my undoing as well.

Is this piece incomplete? I'm not sure. I hope not..it's my thoughts, I tend to trail away as I have often done in the most crucial of situations. But that's just the reel in my head starting to play time and again. And it knows no time, no situations...it just plays whenever it wants to.

To be Continued 4

Part 1: click here
Part 2: click here
Part 3: click here


 A quick word with his friends across the counter and some teasing remarks from them and he was back by her side. "Shall we?" he said, swaying his hand towards the door in one fluid motion. His casual demeanor surprised her. She probably wasn't used to hanging around men like him, he figured. As he held the door open for her, she got up smoothly and walked out, her firm posture affirming her confidence and style, and they walked out of the store to a few muffled hoots and comments from his friends behind the counter.
"This one's gonna be interesting for sure." he thought, walking into the coffee shop across the road. She had already walked ahead to the counter and asked for her drink. As he proceeded to do the same, Westlife's "Uptown Girl" started playing on the jukebox and he quietly smiled to himself at the irony of the situation. To his surprise, he saw her do the same and couldn't help but wink at her. She just smiled slyly at him and took her seat by a chessboard.
On the white side.
"She likes to be in control..." he noted.
Intrigued, he waited for her to make the first move.
"So, what's your name?" he asked. Standard pick-up line on a regular day, but this time, he really wanted to know.
"Why don't we keep it a secret for now?" she said, not looking up.
He remained silent as he watched her make the first move. Time usually slows down when you're playing something like a game of chess where each move has to be thought of slowly and carefully. And it did for the first couple of minutes. His careless attitude, the casual charm that had floored many a girl right from high-school faltered in front of this self-confident, haughty yet chic woman who had not only captured his attention but practically made him ask her out. Not the way things usually went in his life, and that had caught him by surprise. His conversation initially was that of a high-school boy on a first-time date, not knowing what to say.
"What's your name?",
"Where are you from?",
"So, what do you like?"...
He even thought of starting with a "Sup?" and held himself back in the nick of time.
But as all conversation happen, things started getting a bit smoother as he realized from her tiny smiles and raised eyebrows from time to time that she had been playing him all along, avoiding personal talk and making things difficult for him. Also, that he'd been losing miserably at the game that had been unfolding before his eyes. Time to buck up! he thought and started concentrating on the game, but soon he found that she was truly too good for him. Back and forth, back and forth they rallied their players, dancing to the tunes of their whims, battling invisible battles as he parried her moves with his, their each step revealing just a little bit about each other's thoughts. And beyond the chessboard, their conversation flowed with a rhythm that was just as surprising. He found that her personality was a lot like his own, but beyond that, she was an enigma. So secretive, a closed book to some extent. She revealed nothing about herself, wanting to talk about him instead, yet he sensed no bad intent in that. He himself had lost count of how many women he had tried the John Doe on so that they wouldn't be able to call him back the night after. But she didn't quite seem that type. Here was a woman who was so intriguing, in looks and in personality, and yet so secretive that he knew practically nothing about her. Maybe that's what attracted him to her even more. He didn't know, and that bothered him more than the prospect of winning or losing the game.

"And that's check, and mate." she said, leaning back and taking the final sip of her decaf latte, now lukewarm from the long game.


.

To be continued...2

For part 1, click here.


There was nothing he didn't know how to handle. Street smart, reckless and suave, things came easily to him. With a natural charm and rugged looks, life was easy. He cared less about where life took him and liked to go with the flow. That morning, like any other, he hopped into his Mustang and revved up the engine. Nothing soothed him more and nothing pumped more adrenaline into his blood than the sound of her engine. He headed towards the Macy's outlet where he worked to start his morning shift. Money wasn't a concern for him. As long as it paid rent and got him a square meal, he was fine. That morning, though, he was late. So he pressed on the gas and let the Mustang dominate the road as she often did.

He sped through the signals, not missing a beat as each turned red just as he crossed them. He drove by this road enough each day to know how long each signal held. A few blocks away from the store, he pulled over at a signal. A chic Datsun caught his eye. Looking left, he saw a gorgeous woman behind the wheel, hair tied back and held together with a scarf, sunglasses donned over her eyes and a strand of stray hair wafting back and forth in the light wind blowing through her hair. Intrigued, he waited for her to move first as the signal turned green. The woman seemed to enjoy the casual ride, yet seemed lost in thought. She accelerated gracefully and raced past him in one smooth motion. He trailed his eyes after her and raced to catch up. She was going his way anyway after all. Two blocks down, she turned right and into the parking lot of the very store he worked at.

He couldn't believe it!

Pulling up next to her car and peeking into the Datsun, he knew there was something about her. Something mysterious...an air of detatched solitude that made her all the more attractive. He knew she was probably way beyond his league, yet he did not care. He never did anyway. Changing into his work clothes, he rushed into the store to find her browsing through a few clothes at the far end. This was the first time he got a good glimpse of her. With the sunglasses off, he saw that she had hazel brown almond eyes, almost oriental, wavy shoulder length hair tied back with a white silk scarf with maroon checks. She wore denim trousers and a stunning red top with a navy blue shrug. She was looking out the window, lost in thought and in the music plugged into her ears from her ipod, a red bag clutched in her slender hands and lips pursed in a lost look of concentration.

"Ah, what the heck!" he thought and handing over his shift to a colleague, took off his work apron, smoothed out his hair, straightened his clothes and with a confident stride, approached her.


"Hi." he held out his hand, and waited.




And waited.




She looked up at him with a gaze that was a mix of indifference and interest. An irony to say the least.








Then she finally let her lips part into a slight smile.

"Hi."; and held out her hand.




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Classroom Shayaris!

Been a long time! MICA's a blast and there's a lot to do. But in the midst of it all, classroom capers are commonplace. So, presenting a few of what I like to call Classroom Shayaris, courtesy yours truly being bored to death from four hours of sleep and a droning professor:


Tere pyaar ne kar diya pagal,
Tere pyaar ne kar diya pagal,
Shareholder's equity is called share capital!
Wah wah wah!
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Dum maaro dum, mit jaaye gum,
Dum maaro dum, mit jaaye gum,
A share's issue price can be at a premium!

(I think this deserves an applause :P )

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Dikhne mein toh tu lagti hai badi sweet,
Dikhne mein toh tu lagti hai badi sweet,
Liabilities and assets come in Balance Sheet!

(sadly jis ladki ko yeh shayari maari, she ran away disgusted. I haven't been able to figure out why :| )

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Kabhi khushi kabhi gum,
Tara pum pum pum,
Chai mein cheeni kum,
Piyo whiskey, piyo rum!
Waaah! waaah!

(this one actually received temporary appreciation)

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Tum mile, dil khile,
tum mile, dil khile,
I'm dying for some steak,
And loads of fish fillet!

(No breakfast, what to do :(

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Main shayar toh nahi,
Magar aye hasin,
Tu likh rahi hai secret mein,
maine share kiya toh sahi!

(after she told me she's blogging at her desk too :D )

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And of course....

Aye Shibani!
Pee le thodi paani,
Yeh lecture chalta raha toh
Khatam meri kahaani!

(We both agreed to that!)

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I'll be back with more after a few more lectures! Till then you guys can plan on ways to kill me.
Until next time!
Ciao!

Origin

"I think I can take him." said Vic, rubbing his wrist with his right hand. "Hell no! You'll die before you even lay a hand on him." scolded Arya.

They were travelling from the southern parts of Rajasthani lands, to the lush greens up north, when they'd chanced upon a pair of robbers roaming that area in search of unarmed travellers. They looked like a married couple, the robbers, and when Arya studied them closely, they didn't seem that bad either. But then, as she gazed into each one's eyes, all she could see was nothing. No emotions, just a cold calculating mind. They were the eyes of killers, of one who had learnt to survive with nothing but their partner and the clothes on their backs. It wasn't a pretty picture. The woman walked with a catlike grace, almost as if she could slice open her throat before she could even realize she's moved. Her face was covered with a black cloth that draped around her shoulders and down her back, not unlike the famed Bedouins of the Arabian deserts. Through those drapes, Arya could see a long silver thing, probably a dagger, sticking out from her belt. The man, similarly clad, was more hefty and his arms were scarred beyond recognition, some thin as if cut from a sword, while some were deep gashes lining up his arm as if he'd single-handedly wrestled a desert wolf. 

As they approached the robbers, Arya tensed. She didn't like confrontations of any kind, let alone a fight. She was more of a peace lover. A diplomat so to speak. As far as she remembered, she had shied away from fights, even given up things just to avoid raising an arm, and it had worked for her till now. But the way they looked at Vic and her, she was certain there would be some exchange of threats, and most probably from the ever loose-tongued Vic, and she could not afford that. But then they could not afford to give up anything they had with them either. The deserts were merciless and supplies were essential.

The couple approached them. 

"Well well well...what have we here?" said the woman. 

"So clichéd." whispered Vic to Arya and rolled his eyes.

"Come on Vic, overconfidence killed the cat as well, not just curiosity." Arya thought and then wondered what made her think of that.

"A couple of travellers, like you two." said Vic.

"That I can see smartmouth. Anyway, I ain't one for small talk. We need supplies, you got them. Hand 'em over. Quick!" the woman said, her voice flat and emotionless, so much so that it took the two of them a second to realize the threat she'd implied.

"It's not a good idea to go up against them right now. What if Vic gets injured? Hell, he no doubt will get injured. Just look at that brute behind her! I bet he wouldn't even flinch if I kicked him in the groin." thought Arya. "Can't we negotiate...er..." she started.
"Riz." prompted the woman. "The name's Riz and this 'ere is my man Pasha. But what's in a name, eh? Now, HAND 'EM OVER!"
Arya observed that her raised voice had a distict edge in it. She most certainly was losing patience, which never was a good thing. And so was Vic. She felt his grip on her hand tighten as thoughts of a fight raced through his mind. Vic never was a thinker, and it was mighty hard to control him once he let go.
"No way, Riz or whatever your name is, these are OUR supplies and WE need them. If you think we'll just give up our food without a fight, you're bloody well mistak...!" Arya didn't even realize when Riz had moved, pulled out the silver dagger and held it against Vic's throat even before he could finish his bold challenge.
"Listen here boy, we have little time and even less patience to spare. Do you want to see your girlfriend here die? Or would you like to go first? Do as we say if you know what's best."
Vic wasn't a slow one himself. He sidestepped to his right and in the same fluid motion tried to grab Riz's arm, hoping he could twist it into his own grip but the moment he reached out, he felt a sharp piercing pain in his forearm. He jumped back a step, saw something move out of the corner of his eye and ducked just in time to see a silver blur fly past his ear, taking a bit of his hair with it. Riz was faster than either of them had imagined. She'd countered Vic's move with a short quick slice from her dagger, cutting into his arm, all the while anticipating his movement and thrown her dagger in the direction Vic would have landed had he not noticed it in the nick of time.
All this happened in a matter of few seconds and then, "VIC!!!" shouted Arya and rushed to his side. Vic kneeled there, clutching his forearm while blood slowly dripped through his fingers and onto the ground. "Stop it! Don't hurt him anymore!" she shouted, tears now welling up in her eyes. "Take whatever you want! Just don't kill him. Please!!"
Vic growled, an almost animal rage taking him over. "Stay out of this Arya..I won't let these thugs take away our food and water. Now stand back!" He roared, pushed her to the side and charged forward towards Riz who was now unarmed and watching them with a hint of amusement, as if she didn't believe in this drama.
"WATCH OUT VIC!!"
But it was futile. Time almost slowed down as Arya saw Vic charge towards Riz while Pasha unhooked a huge whip from his belt and pulled back.
CRACK! 
As a gunshot, the sound rang out in the air and suddenly things came back into perspective and she saw Vic flung upwards and then flat down onto the ground from his own momentum as the long black whip wrung his neck like a Mamba about to strike it's prey down. He lay on the ground, gasping for breath, tugging at the whip, writhing in pain and from lack of oxygen.
She could bear it no longer. Tears escaped her eyes as Arya fell to the ground, begging for mercy.
"Please let him go, I beg of you. He will die if you don't let him go. Let him go!" She collapsed on the ground, sobbing, got up again, trying to stand. Her mind was in turmoil and her body did not listen to her. Her friend was dying and she would no doubt follow him. Or get stranded in the middle of this desert with nothing to eat or drink. She could see Vic turning pale, his soul trying it's best to hang on to his body while the death-noose pulled it away from this world. She didn't know what to do. All she could say was "Please let him go. Please. Please!" Suddenly she found some strength in her an flung herself at Riz, she didn't know why. Riz raised one hand and brought it down hard against her face and she went flying back. She felt giddy, nauseous from the punch. Her face stung and blood flowed freely from her nose which was now bent in a way it shouldn't. She lay on the sand, watching helplessly as Pasha put one leg on Vic's chest and pulled the whip, a crooked smile on his face.
"This can't be happening. Not now...No.. no.." she repeated to herself.
Riz walked over and picked up her dagger. "Now what can we do with this thing. I wonder..." she toyed with it, tossing it up in the air, twirling it between her fingers as she casually walked up to Vic and knelt beside him. "You do have a big heart, boy."
"Please Riz, let him go. You can take all you want from us." pleaded Arya.
"Trying to save your food and your girlfriend..."
"Don't hurt him..."
"Let's have a look at it right now, shall we?" and she raised her dagger.
"No...no...NO!" Arya saw the hilt of the dagger gleam in the light of the setting sun.
Riz tensed her grip and brought it down on Vic's chest.

"NO...NO....NO!!!" 

Arya sat up, screaming, as she saw the dagger slice the air as it moved swiftly towards his chest. Her mind could take it no longer. Her vision blurred...

Suddenly, there was a searing pain in the back of her head, as if someone or something was pushing at it. From the inside. Her mind screamed and she threw back her head, screaming along with it. The pain originated from the base of her skull and shot across to the top of her head like a bolt of lightening. She saw Red. Violet. Magentas..colours she could not name. Her entire spine was ablaze with heat. She heard her bones crack..no, crackle, as if they were paper being crumpled and crushed. Down her spine, the bolt of lightening pain moved down to her legs and back up again into her groin.
She let out a feral scream and her body began to change.


.

Friends, Drinks and Rains

It seems that nowadays, the only times I blog or write is when I'm high. Which is why I blog less these days :P But seriously, words flow easier when you're drunk. Be it words you say or type. Although typing becomes a problem and I'm thankful for my awesome predictive text programme to correct my shitpot English when I type drunk. Anyway, as I was about to say...and as I've said many times before, what better way to get high than on life and with friends?
Well, I got selected to MICA, which is arguably the premier institute for communications management in India, and I couldn't be happier! My dream is becoming more and more real. Slowly yes, but surely it is. Two more weeks and I leave my home, my friends and childhood memories in Mumbai and shift to Ahmedabad for two years. MBA is gonna be a huge step for me, and however much I may downplay it, I'm nervous as shit. Hostel life's definitely something to look forward to. And since I'll be gone for two years and then get placed God knows where, this will probably be the last time I'll meet some of my friends here in Mumbai. I met a bunch of them today, and they gave me two awesome ties to wear at MICA, so a BIG thanks to all of you.
You guys rock!

Lately, I've been spending major time at bookstores, reading this wonderful graphic novel series called Buddha by Osamu Tezuka. Him being the godfather of Manga n all, it really lives up to his reputation and expectations. I'm on the fourth novel and can't seem to wait to read more. Sadly owing to my broke state of finances, I really can't afford to buy these books, so I read them on the couches of the nearest Crossword bookstore. I do plan to buy them though in the near future. I used to think Buddha's life was all about preaching the values of Buddhism to his followers(boring as I saw it to be) but NO, I was so wrong! His life was as exciting as it could be! You guys should really pick this one up!



Also, THE FIRST RAINS ARE HERE! We got a nice drizzle going here in Mumbai, and the Earth smells heavenly! I can just sit at my window for hours listening to the rain and the sounds of nature. Luckily(and unluckily in some ways, though I won't elaborate on those) my home is in a very green part of town, so much so that we have all kinds of insects, animals and lizards all over this colony. So much so that it's almost like a mini jungle out here. I'd found a seven foot rock python under my car last monsoon. I found an amazing variety of insects taking shelter from the rains under the stairwell leading to my doorstep...now usually insects creep me out, but these? They were beautiful! Vivid Violets, brilliant blues, emerald greens, magnificent magentas even! I couldn't believe the myriad of colours that were crawling about on the ground! I wish I had my camera with me so you guys could check them out. Maybe next time.

Anyway, I'm quite buzzed now, and need some shut eye. So with the crickets singing me my lullaby and the rains pattering on my window, I bid you adieu and hope I write more often so that I get to talk to you guys sooner!

Cheers and happy monsoons!

P.S. Some great golden oldies playing on the radio. I'm loving this day more and more!