brave examples

You must have read about this incident, the bodo girl students assaulted by a bunch of nasty haryana police men in a train, leading to a clash between the bodo students association and them. The incident was tragic, as three young guys lost their lives, but i could see it only in heroic lights. Guys gave their lives to protect their girls' honor. One of the killed guy was a friend to the group of girls. Right time to ask yourself, whether you will give your life to protect the honor of a woman. Apart from that think of the magnitude of response. The girls getting attacked, the students association and local people also reacting in such a short time period to stop the train and attack the nasty policemen. One of the reasons helping such strong reaction against the police men would be the human rights violations perpetrated by the security forces in the state, especially the bodo parts for long period of time.
I felt that the incident should have got more media coverage since the attackers were armed police men and according to whatever news i could get, they are still not arrested.The bodoland activists are not that interested in staying in india, they want their independence. But the question is do we want them. I sure do, and i think we do, though we tease them by calling them chinkis. And we can only prove it by showing interest in their issues
When i was doing my graduation, we had these guys from nagaland, manipur and arunachal pradesh in the hostel. I(and most of the guys) used to like those guys, and also had my closest friend lestor, sharing a room with the cool nagaland guy, bishal. So it was like my second room. Occassionally, i used to get negative vibes from these guys, since they like keeping to their group, but i never could think of hating them, since they were basically sweet. The guy called Agoom had this catapult and could hit a moving bird, also he would cook the bird and eat it :). I didn't get a chance to taste it but lestor told me it was good. Also i still keep the dream of going to nagaland or assam once, it must be something good, great mountains, climate and the pretty girls offcourse.

dead dreams and the comatose ones

That was my thought yesterday. Even composed a hideous poem on that. It would have been a sad thought, but i no longer feel that way about such things. I thought of the simple dreams that gives me joy all the time, and i see them dying in my mind, systematically, instead of getting full filled. I know there are a huge number of them, but the worst part is that the dead are easily forgotten. The movie wayward cloud, kinda touched me in the inside, since it brought back the memories of a dead dream and another one which is on the way to death, in a comma. Dead cannnot be revived but the ones in comma like the second one gets alive in such situations. I came out of the theatre so happy because of that, while the other people were kinda disturbed by the climax scenes.

wayward cloud

Atmosphere
Acute water shortage. No water to bath or clean yourself. Mineral water costlier than watermelons and so water melons form the mood of the city. The scene showing a bunch of water melons floating down the drainage canal.


The Girl
The quintessential and so lovely oriental girl. Always wearing simple or skimpy clothes. Steals bottles of water from every where and stacks them up in her apartment.
Walks with the watermelon inside her dress like a pregnant woman and later gives birth to the water melon. The scene is a treasure.

The Guy
Makes a living by acting in porno movies. Has a mid movie crisis when his member stops rising to the occasions. Helps the girl in getting her key back, which was lost and found inside a newly tarred road. Falls in love with the girl. Shows us his talents in fishing out the lost mineral water top from a coactorsÂ’ body.



Interactions between the guy and girl.
The girl sitting in a chair, the guy lying down on the floor, a puff of smoke from the boys mouth caresses the girls feet.
The camera showing the leg level of the kitchen. The girl standing on a inverted bucket trying to get the live crabs which are spilled on the floor back to the boiling water. Hilarious. And the guy helps her in the mission.
Keeps staring at each other. Silent interactions.Girl giggling. Uninhibited happiness in each others company.


Tense moments
When the theatre is filled with hundreds of men, and we are seeing the shooting of a hardcore porn movie on the big screen, obviously there is a lot of tension in the air. Hundreds of erections.

Water on the erections
When they continues the shooting with the unconscious woman actor(may be because of thirst) in different poses, with the guy showing his stamina, and with the girl as the witness. The scene leads to the climax which is unexplainable and I am not spoiling it.










Maddest climax and an original movie :)

Kekexili – The moutain patrol

The movie is about a group of volunteers protecting the endangered tibetan antelopes on the western high deserts of china. The volunteers are not paid, are ill-equiped and are losing to the poachers when the movie starts. We witness the killing of a lone volunteer by the group of poachers. This news brings a reporter from beijing to the place and the rest of the story is told from his perspective. The group has a strong leader, Retai, who commands the respect of the rest of the group. The other members of the group are mostly village guys who have their simple life someone to love them back in the village. The force that’s binding is the love for the tibetan antelopes and the hatred for the poachers. The most moving moment was the scene where they see the carcasses of the antelopes which were killed by the poachers. We feel the emotions in their mind, as they react to it. Its as if a part of their body is dead and that too because they failed in their duty. Another moving scene shows the exhilaration of the group when they manage to push their truck out of the mud in the river, a task which looked impossible.
They tracks down the group of local people who helped the poachers, and carries on to find the poachers. We slowly witness the grant and peaceful high desert turning into a dangerous third group trying to defeat the volunteers, one part is stranded with a broken jeep with no provisions in the snow, another guy takes a wounded volunteer to the hospital and while coming back with supplies, is sucked in by quicksand. The great Ritai marches on with the reporter fellow and is killed by the poachers.
The movie is based on true incidents and they say that one year after the defeat of the volunteer group the government started steps to protect the antelopes. Also some of the remaining volunteers were charged for selling the confiscated skins which they were doing as a last resort when out of money for patrolling.

nice encounters

     she tugged at the side of my tshirt. I got a little irritated and told her not to with my eyes. then she sweetly pinched my cheeks, more than once, and pulled my hair. partly out of resignation and partly out of affection I gave her what she asked for. she touched my head and blessed me, I felt good, as the good bhava in the blessing seeping in me.
     have to say the bunch of hijras that I met in the train, both ways on my vacation trip were sweet, though the pinching was not that sweet as she bruised my face a little in the process.    

the driving instructor

I was having my driving lessons in the morning, and today I was alone with the instructor, who by the way is a very nice fellow. He doesn’t believe in just getting the fellow pass the driving test, but puts his patience and energy in making him a responsible and ethical driver. He tells the drivers to drive slowly when there is water on the road to avoid splashing, to not horn at old people and instead wait and all sort of good road behaviour. And suddenly he started talking about how difficult its to run a driving school. It was like he didn’t have anybody else to let out his feelings about this. And luckily I managed to say some supporting words, instead of messing it up. I supported him, talking about issues that he is facing. Just few lines. But generally I felt proud about this fellow who is doing the things in a good way, taking on the extra responsibilities and issues that comes along, and all this with perfect modesty. A rare breed.

my fav tv stars

The guy is chandler, and girl is elaine marie benes :). Chandler is the coolest guy, while elaine, i started seeing her only weeks before, is the coolest girl. The faces she make, her simple dressing, mannerisms, just fell in love. The runners up are joey, phoebe, will, grace, ross and kate from drew carry show.

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Ooh, but I still smell her.
[inhales deeply through nose]
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here.

Quote from Scent of a woman.

The dreamers

I will just count the things i liked about the movie.
-> Like all french movies, its beautiful.
-> The characters, especially the twin, brother sister pair, has done so well. I just loved Isabelle.
-> The characters trying to enact the scenes in the movies they have seen.
-> The naked intertwine of Isabelle and Theo.
-> Isabelles very pretty pussy lips.
-> Isabelle as venus.
-> Everything else.

collage

I am in very good mood these days, despite my work going pretty sour. But the reasons are simple, I am trying to do my best, not wasting much time, at my work. So no prick of conscience there. Then I read sidhartha. A good book, calms one down, makes one think above the mundane life. I have a good friend to talk with. I am doing light jogging every morning, and running down the way to my office, with a smile on my face, and lots of energy in my legs as if I am a 5 year old. I am doing bowling practice inside the house, and doing a good job at protecting my balls from my roomies leg cutters, after getting injured once. The sparrow who usually visits my kitchen today came into the hall to say hi. I am sleeping like a pig, and seeing good dreams. I had the bengali buffet lunch, which I missed in the nearby restaurant in my dreams. I went to trivandrum and met my friends in my dreams. I am treating the projects I am working on as my children, and laughing away when I see them behaving naughty, admonishing them(this is a morning speciality, in the evenings I will be mouthing expletives, until they behave properly), announcing them to the group, like a mother would tell others about the naughtyness of her children. That’s all I remember, but I am sure there are more.
    

clock work

I forgot the name of the movie, but it was a harsh portrayal of the very orthodox and backward muslim society in kerala. It was very painful, the story of the teenaged girl, who is free spirited and good at studies, being married off to a guy who is already married. The girl fights her husband off from his sexual advances with her tooth and nail, literally, and at last he takes the help of his first wife to drug her to sleep, and fucks her. Shes crushed, he later abandons her, to go to dubai, with the money he got as dowry. She get back with her single mother. She tries to continue her studies, but on the day of her final exam, she collapses, and the doctor declares her pregnant. At the end we see her joining the long list of teenaged mothers in the village all deranged, and shunned by the society. The reason why the society is angry with her is also funny. According to their rules the girl should remain inside her house for some 15 days after her husband abandons her. This is to make sure of the father in case she becomes pregnant. And in this case since she has went to school, the child will be considered father less. These fellows had written a lot of rules.
I remembered this movie when I was seeing another movie recently, in which the heroine’s(there is no hero in the movie) neighbours and good friends, are a big family of well off muslims. And I was like getting irritated with the orthodox images. I couldn’t stand it somehow, like the hero in clock work orange, who was given the special medicine, couldn’t stand anything remote to violence anymore.

the brothel with a wooden balcony

Men were sitting with their legs stretched on the wooden balcony, and a woman was entertaining them with her talk. We were all waiting for our chance to cuddle with the woman, and by cuddle I mean cuddle. I was sitting on the side railings, with my legs stretched, and comfortable with the whole situation. Beside me sat two little girls, daughters of our host. I tried to talk with one of the girls, but she was not interested. She ran away. I thought of the whole cuddling thing, the soft white bed on the floor, all fluffy, and the fluffy woman. I felt a little naked in my shorts and the short towel that I wore over it. The wind was getting chilly. But my mind was calm. I don’t know whether I got my chance or I just got what I wanted , but I started to leave. I walked down the nicely crafted, wooden stair case and entered the corridor which leads outside. While I was walking along the corridor, I got a glimpse of what is going in the next house connected to the same corridor. A woman was teaching another woman the right demeanor for her honeymoon time. She was acting shy, dressed nicely in a white dress , practicing different expressions. I walked on silently.

--Just a dream I had like the damp dormitory.

the damp dormitary

The class room was fully packed with students, and the air was damp. I was sitting at the edge of my bench and relatively happy, since everybody was listening to the teacher, and i was alone in the crowded room. Thats when hell broke loose. A group of miscreants barged into the room to break the silence, to disturb the harmony and let the terror out. I ran for my life. I ran through the well lit corridor, i ran down the familiar stair case, down several floors, and found myself in a semi lit dormitarry. The floor was glistening with water, and the smell of phenol, and i saw long rows of wooden cots arranged in one half of the hall. And sitting in the last one was jerry. Jerry is my friend from hostel, my junior. I felt relieved, ran to his cot, hopped on to it, and started chatting about movies. I felt relieved.

reborn

This has a dejavu feel for me. After weeks and months of boring life, suddenly you are dropped into a nice world for a limited amount of time. And then you see a lot of nice thing, nice unknown people, nice unseen places, and then you are taken to a calm cozy place to sleep and a moment to think whats happening. And you feel, that you were born today morning, though you feel like having the wisdom of atleast a 10 year old, and you remember that you have family and friends whom you care about. But there are just no memories before the start of this adventure. You try to retain the dementia and savour it as long as possible. And to your surprise it lingers.

from a little time before

In here i work pretty much like a machine, far from home, far from my friends, with very few distractions. So i will be too numb, and when i go home wont be prepared for the realities which are always waiting for me. Most of them are not surprising, but some things come up some times which are not expected, and this one tells me how shallow i think. My mama is having a bad time, professionally, and the reason would be what she has achieved by working all these years. Shes nearing her retirement and has been working for so long in the same designation, even though i am sure she is one of the best employees in her office. Its a government office and promotions are strictly on the basis of your seniority, and not your worth.
That much was the bad part about her career. I know the good parts. She always have good friends there and i am pretty worried about how much she would miss them after retirement. She is a very friendly and helpful person and she works in the town administration office, and since its a small town, there will always be people around there who had been helped by her, and who respects her for those helps. This is a town which respects goodness in people, not one of those metros where goodness is sneered upon.

the good sunday

The difference between a bad sunday and a good one is three watchable movies, a better astrological prediction and a good cooking experiment. I found that yesterday. I would have said good movies if i could remember the second one that i saw yesterday. The first one was bulletproof, and the third, everybody says i am fine. The latter had nice moments, like comparing the sound of silence with the sound when your ear is filled with water, and the climax, while the dialogues some time had this issue of english dialogue in indian movies. I kinda remembered our own little movie which had totally nasty dialogues. Bullet proof was enjoyable to me, the comedy, will smith and the action.

I am easily intoxicated some time when i finish a difficult job, even when i know that i overstretched the schedule. Add to it my happy american boss. The feeling has left me only two days later. And it was replaced by another one, ya, i finally made a good chicken curry, after like 5 tries. Only the ouput was spoiled by high salt content. But i was expert enough to see that this gravy is the one i was trying all the while. Afterwards i drank a lot of water as they say.

Add to all these i read a good book. Demian by herman hesse, picked at 10 bucks from the second hand market. It was surely a gem. The idea i think explains existentialism, and is not far from the vedanta ideas.

The last few days are quite comfortable ones, with work going good and all. But my mind is spitting out expletives of the worst kind to even the smallest things that irritate me. The reason is the book that i am reading. The God Of Small Things. Every one of the nights, that i slept with the book, i was cursing the inconsiderate characters in the book, at the same time loving the most endearing charactors of Ammu, Rahel, Estha, Velutha and Sophie mol. I know the society and i can feel it. The little magical world of the children, the mismatched character of ammu who refused to be bound by the silly hypocritical society, paying for that with her life. Her stifled dreams of getting back with her children, the heartache about not being able to support them. I am thinking of that as the greatest pain a single mother can have. Inconsiderateness is dirty. Some times its the religion and its convoluted explanations which gives these villains the strenght to hurt their own people, while other cases its just plain dirty mind. Fuck them.

I was thinking of the nice moments i spend with my little cousin sister, around a year ago . she was just 8 months old or something then. so there is no much communication. i have to say that those were the most soothing moments in my life. just watching her lying down or lying down next to her on the floor. i was thinking of the reasons for being so happy beyond the obvious one that how cute she looked. Few weeks before, i went to meet her again. And she has grown up. First few hours, she didnt come to me. But then it was ok. She has grown up into a little girl already. Like she wouldnt scream when some body blocked her way. She would keep on repeating, move away with increasing levels of insistence without losing her dignity. It was a wonder ful scene. I could spend only one day as before but it was good time, to remember.

Its a pretty difficult life without dreams. Thats one problem right now.
Another interesting stuff is fantasy. Just skip into the other world when you are pretty much bored of the real one. And my fantasies during my teens were more related to utopian worlds. Fantasy without much fun. But these days i am going back to a child's mentality. Reading harry porter and getting into fantasy stuff like that. Just a try, didnt touch me much, though i would say i dreamt of a flying horse. Books are good things. The books i like has a world in it which welcomes me to join it as a spectator. I enjoy the drama, the gentle emotions and the beautiful surroundings in those places. But thats not it, isnt it. Books must be there which talk more than about the society and human relations. Either i havent tried them yet, or i have avoided the parts which goes deeper than the normal stuff.
I have this friend, who has been smitten with thougths of life. He keeps thinking, reading philosophy, arguing with himself. He hasnt got a fellow friend who thinks in the same level. So sometimes he turns to me, and he will use me just as a listener. I dont have much sync with his thoughts either, or as i said before, just ignores most of them. The last time i went home, and met him, we talked, and i saw that he is coming back to us from the idea that he was talking to me at levels that i can understand. He seems to moderate himself, or restrict his thoughts. Anyway i dont know whether thats a good thing or bad. I wont be going deep into any of the stuff as long as i have some thing like a job to engage me.

I was reading my friends blog about the rape of the school girl in mumbai and i remembered the conversations i had with my office guys about the same thing. My friends anger towards the male friends who ran away at the sight of a police man, leaving the girl alone with a him is quite understandable. Calling that bunch of friends nincompoops is quite correct, but lets not generalize that to calling men nincompoops. Those bunch of kids(not men) are city bred and the worst of their kind obviously.
My colleague was saying that day, in a little accusing tone about the girl, that there is mistake on her side also. At first i sprang to the defence of the girl, but then i understood the tone of my friend was more that of a parent than of a guy saying that girls should stay neat and descent. The tone of a parent who finds that their kid has been careless and caused herself harm in the way. I remember the words of another parent, a poet of my place, when asked what will she tell her daughter, if she came back home raped by some one, and her words were, i would hand her a bottle of dettol and a towel, and would ask her to take a shower and forget about it. The trauma of rape is very heavy in itself and the victims should not be subjected to more trauma from the worries of their parents and dirty eyes of the society. But she should be strong enough to drag herself through the court procedures so as to reduce others chance of being in her state. That should come natural to a human being. Its time to grow up for our society. Lets save all our dirtyness for the rapist than for the victim.

company for lunch

I was quietly having my lunch in my regular vegetarian hotel on a very hot day.
I dont know what caught my attention first, the little girl child negotiating her way in the thick lunch crowd or the cleaning guys trying to block her way. I knew where she was heading to, which was obvious from the 1.5 litre empty sprite bottle that she was holding. A little descriptionof the little girl might be helpful here. She was slightly taller than twice the height of that bottle. I know her, she is a squatter in the nearby building, a cute, semi demolished building on the road side, which i have already noted down for the squatting options that it provide. She is cute, has her hair done in to two pony tails, held by little rubber bands and wears a constant expression on her face of confusion. Denying water to such a little girl in such a hot summer day would be like the biggest crime that the cleaning fellow(who is also a child, some 15 years old) can do. I was not going to just watch that this time. But thankfully , the cleaning lad(s) were not that heart less, and the little girl was tenacious about getting her bottle filled. They helped her fill the bottle. And none of the people in the crowd had any aversion in having a street child near their food and water. Thinking of that i will love this place more, than any other hotel where people sit in their chairs, and look down at a hint of dirt spoiling their appetite or mood. I gave her silent company back to her home, since i was not sure whether she can carry that bottle on her own. But she seemed cool about it, doing it slowly, and without much effort.

withdrawal symptoms

I think this is it. My body is reacting terribly. I am squirming in my seat. Taking deep chesty breath. Moving around on my seat itself. Jumping off the chair some times, pacing up and down the cubicle. Am feeling terrible.
Reason: For the last two weeks i have been doing mechanical work, with a huge amount of repetitive procedures. And its over now. Now again, the work on my table is repetitive, but i need to get some green flags, before i can peacefully do it. Mental barriers. And this is how i respond.

Dinner time

Rice cooked by my roomie, nice mango pickle (cook: my mother), nice fish pickle (cook: my roomies mother), bad dhal (cook: me), curd (courtesy amul), omlette (cook: roomie). That was one nice dinner i had in a while and the center of attraction was surely the fish pickle. I think its dried fish(neymeen) fried in little oil, with lots of pepper and a curry leave(kariveppila). WOW.

sunday dreams

Had very nice dreams today. They involved my friends, my family and an unexpected member, one of my engineering teachers. I could explain why my friends and family where there. I was planning to go home next week, but i postponed that. That could have triggered my longing to meet my family and friends, i have had such dreams before. But the last part where my teacher came in was interesting. She was not my favourite teacher or anything. And she had two little kids with her. One was a very cute tiny tot. She was all haggard and i was asking her how and when she feeds the kid, since the kid looked too small. She told me she feeds the kid twice and i wanted to tell her to feed the kid thrice a day.
The second dream was cinematic, with a very fancy good evil chase, with multiple members in the bad team and the good girl running. Both the good and the evil were using different spells and using the magical space around them to hide occassionally. One of the sequences has the good girl jumping flat on a image of herself and becoming thin, slipping inside the dark space and getting away, it was really good.

requiem for a dream

The first time i tried to see the movie, i knew it has some thing in it, but i couldnt continue beyond the first 30 mins, i left it there. The reason could be losing patience, may be i am getting addicted to simple and go easy movies. Then bala reccommended that movie to me. And i saw the rest in two shifts. And i am writing this one just after finishing the last shift. And my hands are still trembling. My blood is still recovering from the chill that the movie caused in me. If i hear its back ground music again, i may get that chill again.
The movie started off with a little feud between the mother, Sara and the son, Harry, over her excessive indulgence in tv game shows, the son trying to take the tv away from her. Harry leaves after all that. Then we see the harry going to meet his friend and girl friend, marion, doping together, which is shown with quite impressive sequence of shots, which repeats throughout the movie. Marion'(jennifer connelly) screen presence in the movie is too good, the frames that she adorns, a little eye lasher doing her eyes, lipstick touching her lips, everything about her in the movie is enticing. And the shots that involve these doping people, are a step above the other ones that take off from the normal level of cinematic beauty to a level of artistic perfection. Harry and marion, along with harries friend are also making some money out of retailing dope.
Sara in the mean while, is excastic about an offer to be on tv and about the attention that she gets in her neighbourhood after that. When harry comes back after a while, he see a new Sara in place of his mother, some body who is happy and addicted to the pills given by a quack, to reduce her weight. The scene also have sara crying to harry about the meaningless lonely life that she was leading and what meaning she has got from the offer to be on tv.
We see after wards the chain of incidents in the path of these people from a state of deperateness to lowest levels of human existence. This chain is so powerfully presented, that it has the power to melt any body to the core. I dont know about drug addicts, but i think this movie would be like the treatment given to the hero of clock work orange, which made him shun violence, if given to an addict(this point has been blankly contradicted by fellows who have doped in imdbs movie discussion board, but lots of guys like me who havent doped swore never to dope after seeing the movie) .
I also think about the young fellows in the movie, they care less. They dont care. I have seen that in some actions of a lot of my friends. But when it come to human relations, mostly they care. Carelessness in the young ones, i think is natural, and so we may as well identify with them. They care about themselves. Its good isnt it. I admire fellows who care about their priorities, who have their priorities set. Dope makes them happy, i dont know what dope gives you(but i would say, i got close to understanding it seeing some of the scenes), but it gives them some thing, and that seems to be their priority. Harry doesnt mind sticking the needle into his hand so roughly, and even ignores when it all wounded with the punctures, that it has to be amputated, as long as he get his dope. And marion crawls back happyly into foetal position after being humiliatingly used in an orgy, arranged by a dope supplier, since she got her weeks supply of dope I cant identify with them easily, but i am sure that a lot of youngsters can. So they can understand these people. May be we all should understand them. For what, i dont know. But i feel that it will be good for you and them.

late night biryani

yesterday night, i was a little late at leaving the office, and it was 11:30, a time when i knew no hotels around will be open. i was resigned to the fate of making omlettes at home, when my colleague who was also working late, offered to roam around the city in search for an open eatary. it was a good ride on his bike, zooming along the wide, and free city roads. and we found an open restaurant, where they had biryani. i am not quite a fan of hyderabadi biryani, but the chicken in these huge biraynies were huge and superbly done. i was tucking it in with wild abandon, and that is when i saw the smile on my colleagues face. he was a little amused i think. at that moment it struck me that i am in the company of a mature person. i truly think that i should have company of more mature and more evolved people. you should never be entirely in the company of immature people, unless you are helping them get rid of their immaturity , there by getting more mature.

how easily we get dependent. we dont even notice that. just now i was feeling stressed and felt like having a headache. and what do i do. go to the cafeteria and make a tea. does it help. most often not. but we just do the easiest thing that can be done. we dont look for the obvious cure also. take a little break. i remember the moov ads that come on tv. the lady of the house has a bad back pain and is unable to service the family members. so what does the loving grandma do. give her moov, a fucking pain killer, so that she can forget about the pain and go back to work.i used to think how thought less that ad was. and i am doing the same to myself. ha.

lunch break

it used to be the time i talked the most in my previous company, it used to be a good time. here i dont feel like that. i dont have friends here, who listen to me. and i hate some of the guys here. it doesnt take much for me to hate some body. and its momentary. and occassionally i try to start talking, only to know later that nobody is listening. its ok. that is the part where i start enjoying my self. just me talking to me. as it has been most of the times. any way there is another good side of not having the people around, listening to me, since i have this tendency to entertain them by demeaning myself in that case. i feel that i have written the same lines long before, may be i deleted it later. or is it a dé·jà vu.

nice encounters-1

It was the last lap of a beautiful, dream like journey from bangalore to my place, futher south, in kerala. I was thoroughly enjoying the cold climate which kept my company, and relishing the fact that i have reached my state. At the bus stop called iritty, a girl hopped in to our bus. She sat in the seat in front of me. She was wearing a white dress, and was a lot polished than the other characters in the bus. I couldnt see her face, but i was kinda disturbed by her presence. And in some time, it started raining. The next half hour, i could feel the sexual tension in the air, it was so heavy. The so called thing is funny. Its formed in the air between the two people, and can be sensed only from the strange and tiny words, spoken by their bodies. What if i was imagining it. It would be very sad then, really sad.

i lost some thing

Its not exactly sleep. But the sleepy feeling when you are bored. I almost lost it. I remember in college, i used to feel sleepy. The two years of predegree, had some heavy tests for us, like the 5 hour daily chemistry tuitions. I was a little interested in chemistry those days, otherwise, i would have joined my friends in dozing off in the class room. The greatest test for me was the physics classes in engineering collge days, by which time i have lost interest in science. It was hard battle, where i failed a lot of times. I also had this sleepiness when i was working in trivandrum. But come hyderabad, and i have lost it. My colleague is sleeping in his chair sitting in the next cubicle, most of the guys are yawning and i feel fully up. Last day, our CTO was giving a lecture on future plans and i see every body, yawning away, i was rock steady, all ears. It a feel good loss, though, i also lost 3 kgs and quarter of my sleeping capacity as part of the package.

Beach retreat

Its around 6 years back, i was doing my predegree, and i had this friend who lived close to my house.
We were very close, even though, he was the exact opposite of me in most of the senses. He was a smart
guy, fair, handsome, well built and casual. I have lost touch with him since then. He used to rush to
my house on his grand yezdi road king, whenever he felt bored, and we would elope to the beach which is
one km away from my house or another beach which is 5 km from our place. This one day we were having
a good time at the beach, talking about some stuff or other, there was no lack of subjects those days, and
he was a good talker. I miss such friends these days. It was then a good rain hit us, and we ran into
the pine grove near the beach. The fishermen around those areas keep unused boats with the side down
on the ground, and we took shelter in one of those. If it was not raining we would those fisher men folks
would fire us if we even touch their boats, but i think the rain was keeping those guys off the beach for
the while. I think we sat inside the boat for more than half hour, and it was so cozy, so wonder ful time,
and i think the most intimate moments one can have with a friend, watchin the rain drops dripping from the side
of the boat and the disturbed water surface in the small water logs in the pine grove. The whole thought is pleasant to say the least.