Well, I haven't blogged in AGES. A while back, when I actually started blogging, creative writing yada yada yada... there was something that would drive me to write every second day or so. I would look around while I travel, looking out for things out of the ordinary, things that interest me, things that I can draw inspiration from. My mind was always at work, imagining up fantasy stories in the shower, of werewolves, of vampires, of might and of magic, of despair and of love, everything that I saw could and would be converted into a daydream sequence (yea yea.. sounds lame.. sue me.. Mads, don't answer that one!)

Again, I love to sketch. I keep sketching my aforementioned dream sequences, trying to bring them to life. Sometimes an elf, sometimes a couple holding hands and walking under a lone street lamp set in the backdrop of a moonlit starry night. They would come easily. They say, when you love someone or something, it comes easily to you. It's easy. It becomes easy.

Well, of late my inspiration to write and also to sketch has somehow vanished into thin air. Easy it still is, but not effortless. The urge is gone. The fire's dead so to speak. Ah! However you may put it, the fact remains. I don't feel like writing anymore. At least not for the past month or so. Earlier it used to be as if someone opens a tap and lets the words flow. I never used to think, they just came out as I visualised them in my head. I want that back.

Where the hell did it go, and more important, WHY?
I fail to understand.

Is it that I'm bummed out?
Is it that suddenly I'm too lazy to do even what I love?
Is it that my day is so full that I barely have time left for myself? Even half an hour a day?
Why? Why is it so if it is?

Some call it creative block, writer's block, mental fatigue.
Utter those words to someone and,
Take a break! Chill for sometime! Don't work so hard!

Advice advice advice! Come on people!

Haven't you ever truly wanted to do some things and found that there's just so much time to do them, and everything's fighting for that more of your time, so that at the end of the day, you're left exhausted and wishing you could shut your eyes and leave reality behind for that much longer?
And people wonder why I sleep so much!

Maybe it really is fatigue. I'm doing too many things together, but some of them are commitments I made to myself, and I wish to stick to them.

MBA preps, then office, then gym, NID preps....my day's actually full! Over and above that, bloody Mumbai traffic's a bitch. Traffic jams that make a 20 minute drive home an hour and half long. Makes life that much shorter, with exhaust pipes coughing up unfiltered gases at insanely long traffic signals. WHY can't people get it in their heads to switch off their vehicle at signals of more than 30 seconds? Bloody idiots! And the age-old scrapyard salvaged autorickshaws that form the lifeline of suburbanites. Noise pollution, air pollution and life threateners. Bah!!

GOD! I can go on and on! I'm totally frustrated.
Maybe this is why I started writing in the first place. To reason out my thoughts.
Hmm...good self introspection.

*pats self on back*

Anyway, super-long rant, lotsa random thoughts here, but feeling good. As I say, dil halka ho gaya. Should be out of this slump pretty soon. Planning for a long break from work as it is.

Thanks guys, for bearing with me! I'm outta here! :) \m/

P.S. Will leave you with this thought:

When your dreams are lost and blown away
and you need someone to make your day

I'll be your inspiration

If there comes a time your hope is gone
and you need some help to carry on

I'll be your inspiration

I'll be your inspiration

'Cause when you look into my eyes You can see there's no disguise
Don't be afraid To need someone You don't have to be alone

Don't be afraid To need someone You don't have to be alone

- Ian Van Dahl

Here's something I got as an E-mail. Thought I'd share it out here.

Enjoy! :)

Awesome Bombay!

Bombay has no bombs and is a harbour not a bay.
Churchgate has neither a church nor a gate. It is a railway station.
There is no darkness in Andheri.
Lalbaug is neither red nor a garden.
No king ever stayed at Kings Circle .
Nor did Queen Victoria stay at Victoria Terminus.
Nor is there any princess at Princess Street .
Lower Parel is at the same level as Parel
There are no marines or sailors at Marine Lines.
The Mahalaxmi temple is near Haji Ali not at Mahalaxmi.
There are no pigs traded at Dukkar bazaar.
Teen batti is a junction of 3 roads, not three lamps.
Trams used to terminate at Kings circle not DadarTram Terminus (Dadar T.T.).
Breach Candy is not a sweetmeat market, but there is a Hospital.
Safed Pool has the dirtiest and blackest water.
You cannot buy coal at Kolsa street.
There are no Iron smiths at Lohar chawl.
There are no pot makers at Kumbhar wada.
Lokhandwala complex is not an Iron and steel market.
Null bazaar does not sell taps.
You will not find ladyfingers at Bhindi Bazaar.
Kalachowki does not have a black Police station.
Hanging Gardens are not suspended.
Mirchi Gully does not sell chillies.
Figs do not grow in Anjir Wadi.
Sitafals do not grow in Sitafal Wadi,
Jackfruits do not grow at Fanaswadi.
But it is true that you may get fleeced at Chor Bazaar!


A City where everything is possible, especially the impossible.

Where telephone bills make a person ill,
Where a person cannot sleep without a pill.

Where carbon-dioxide is more than oxygen,
Where the road is considered to be an open dustbin,

Where college canteens are full and classes empty,
Where Adam teasing is also making an entry,

Where a cycle reaches faster than a car,
Where everyone thinks himself to be a star,

Where sky scrapers overlook the slum,
Where houses collapse as the monsoons come,

Where people first act and then think,
Where there is more water in the pen than ink,

Where the roads see-saw in monsoon,
Where the beggars become rich soon,

Where the roads are levelled when the minister arrives,

Where college admission means hard cash,
Where cement is frequently mixed with ash.


1. You say 'town ' and expect everyone to know that this means south of Churchgate.

2 You speak in a dialect of Hindi called 'Bambaiya Hindi',
which only Bombayites can understand.

3. Your door has more than three locks.

4. Rs 500 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag.

5. Train timings ( 9.27 , 10.49 etc) are really important events of life.

6. You spend more time each month traveling than you spend at home.

7. You call an 8' x 10' clustered room a Hall.

8.. You're paying Rs 10,000 for a 1 room flat, the size
of walk-in closet and you think it's a 'steal.'

9. You have the following sets of friend: school friends, college friends, neighborhood friends,
office friends and yes, train friends, a species unique only in Bombay. (REALLY TRUE)

10.. Cabbies and bus conductors think you are from Mars
if you call the roads by their Indian name,
they are more familiar with Warden Road, Peddar Road, Altamount Road .

11. Stock market quotes are the only other thing besides cricket which you follow passionately.

12. The first thing that you read in the Times of India is the ' Bombay Times' supplement.

13. You take fashion seriously.
You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.

14. Hookers, beggars and the homeless are invisible.

15. You compare Bombay to New York 's Manhattan instead of any other cities of India.

16. The most frequently used part of your car is the horn.

17. You insist on calling CST as VT, and Sahar and
Santacruz airports instead of Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport.

18. You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.

19. Your idea of personal space is no one actually standing on your toes.

20.. Being truly alone makes you nervous.

21. You love wading through knee deep mucky water in the monsoons, and actually call it ''romantic'.

22. Only in Bombay , you would get Chinese Dosa and Jain Chicken.

Salaam Bombay......

A little bit of excitement in my life :)

Sometime back I wrote a post about how crowded the trains in Mumbai are and how funny Train-ing can be. Well, here's something totally unexpected that happened yesterday, something which most of us think cannot happen to us...well, it was fun though... so read on!

Coming home from work is usually quite boring, standing in the overheated, overcrowded compartment of the second class local. And heaven help you if you're travelling at peak hours. After all, in those forty long minutes, you're drenched in the sweat and perspiration, most of which may not be your own!(yuck!)
So, for that and that reason alone, I'm usually at the door, hanging from the grill and enjoying the cool evening air. (yea, yea, now go all responsible mommy and scold me for being reckless. See if I care :P )
Ah, so where was I? Oh yeah, the door. Well, there I was, right at the front, with a freakishly tall half-mawali guy behind me trying all sorts of acrobatics at the door, and two more office-goers behind him. With the sun just setting, the air was cool and it was a pleasant ride; until the train pulled into GTB Nagar station. People alighted the train, more boarded, the usual routine. The train had just started pulling away from the platform when a man came rushing through all of us, almost pushing us off the slowly moving train, jumped off the train and started running. At the same instant, we heard a loud shout from within.


Now, in such a crowded train, there's no time or space to pull the chain. Also, the train was slowly picking up speed. The pickpocket was getting away. With my mind racing through all these thoughts, I jumped off the running train. The same instant, I saw the other three guys at the door jump off too. And we raced. We raced after the thief who was already gaining so much distance by now. Everything happened so fast, I could barely register them. The only thing I knew was the thief was running away and we had to catch up.

Shouts rang across the platform, "STOP HIM!", " THIEF", "CATCH HIM". People looked at him. No one moved.

Suddenly, the freakishly tall guy, remember him? He picked up speed, and how! It was as if he was possessed. One second, he was running with us, the next he had caught up to the pickpocket who was at least a hundred feet away! A running tackle and both were down on the ground. We're still running.

Almost there.

The thief gets up. I catch up, punch him, he goes down.

By then the others are onto him as well. And then what ensued was nothing less than what can be called a "public dhulai" The poor pickpocket got thoroughly bashed up. After a few seconds, we really had to stop, more out of humane pity than anything else. By then, the railway cops came up, with their pot bellies and lathis. The man whose pocket was picked had also managed to hop off the train and showed up, hoping to get a few punches in. We handed him his wallet. Confirming that everything was intact, he was all smiles again, even offered us a reward which we refused.(i know i know...damn conscience) The confusion having died down and the thief handed over to the cops(who looked nothing like them, but wtf right?) we stood at the platform, arms folded and wide grins across our faces like the Avengers in all our glory, waiting for the next train, noticing the looks of curiosity, of impressed awe and of confusion. Having exchanged names and small talk, we boarded the train, again at the door, with the wind in our hair and sword at hand, awaiting the next station in case our services are needed again.

After all, for your average hero next door, it's all in a day's work.