गर गुमनामी का यूँ इश्तहार न देते हम, तुमसे रूबरू होने की हर गुंजाईश खो बैठते

“I feel Bangalore is a lot better than Chennai.” I wonder how many Bangaloreans I have fooled with this intelligent rhetoric. Listeners are instantly drawn to believe that I am one of the ‘rare ones’ who understands and stands for the South Indian ‘cause’. When I came to Bangalore three years back from Delhi, I was desperate and tired of Delhi’s overtly friendly neighborhoods, where folks used verbal abuse as a tactical means of endearment. Tactical because it is sometimes used for exactly what it was invented for…abuse people. Tricky affair if you can’t notice the difference. Unfortunately, my upbringing did not prepare me for such subtleties. Anyway, the moment I arrived here, I noticed the biases people have about people. Egos were at stake. It was the North Indian South Indian thing. I could notice it more because I am in a lot of ways ‘culture shock’ personified. Fellow Northis felt the “Aiyo Ramas” were too uncool. They ate tasteless, sour food and boasted of their culina...

Dodging sound waves from making sense to my ear drums and using opacity of objects to their best use…when around the TV, has sub-consciously been my routine all my life. To all and sundry, who might wonder what the MsWord abuser is up to now, let me reveal that small introspections are leading to self discovery…or lunacy. In either case, the abuse continues.  When I was watching a movie, with absolutely no horror scenes, no creepy reptiles or awkward love making scenes, I found myself hiding from seeing the main character getting a solid dosage of public humiliation in the movie. I even shut my ears to near permanent impairment to not be able to listen to the embarrassment the character faced. I missed out the whole movie eventually as, somehow; embarrassment was the central theme of the movie. I remember I did exactly this when unknown guests came to our house and I was warranted to meet n greet them. The restroom seemed safer than a BSF bunker then. I did it when a friend cho...

As children, we wondered why grown ups are so confused. After becoming one, I realized the irony. Grown ups are more aware and hence know the different aspects of the worldly affairs in more colors than mere black and white. Does it occur to anyone that our lives could be sub-consciously run by bizarre ideals which do not have much sense in reality? Don’t play devil's advocate, but at least try to justify what is otherwise passed off as general vices or wrongdoings. I guess we'd rather take them as plain facts and not pursue the inconvenient option of finding logic in the way we think. Choices seem blurred and we realize when we start questioning; facts turn out to be merely popular perceptions. So, is it better to live in oblivion as long as we are not affected in a direct way? It is really a question of whether to pop the blue pill or the red pill. Neo made his choice, the tough and inconvenient one. Is it really worth it….to live a life that is not run by propaganda?...

Never knew this intriguing phase will be in my life so soon. Marriages abound, proposals doing the rounds, friends getting married. I was never the one who would fantasize about the day I get married. I never dreamt about the "gal" who would rock my world. Instead, other dreams took precedence. Dreams like playing cricket for India, becoming a movie star,, going for a world tour et al.. It would seem that I am lagging behind in the race of getting hitched. I guess it is time I have a plan in place. Either find a girl who would succumb to my eccentric appeal ;) or completely rule out the option of marriage until it is forced upon me. It would only be appropriate to choose someone whom you know as your partner. But I am in huge dilemma. Either that or the traditional arranged fashion of taking the vows. In a way, I am grateful to my own incompetence in academics that I am not a 'settled' man yet which does not compel me in making any decisions… yet.. But that does not r...

Every living moment is a writing opportunity. Exploiting these prospects is dependant on writer's capability of delivering rhetoric. In spite of bearing such absolute thoughts, I have been suffering from the writer's block. And no, I am not trying to drop subtle hints for being identified as a genuine writer. Instead, I am giving a consolation to myself that I am fashionable enough to have the dreaded 'writer's block'. Can I document every second of jealousy, hatred, lust, pain, love, patriotism? Not unless I have a wand in my hand. I miss the days when I used to fall in love every day. During school days, the hypnotism in 'love' compelled me to bunk classes, save tiffin, join English tuition and bear being a laughing stock. I remember saving money for a classmate's voluntary charity program. Ironically, now, a more resourceful moi would rather choose to indulge in some extravagance. I recall how I bought gifts for people on their birthdays….and made bir...

A hodgepodge is what can least describe my state now. I might be thinking a thousand thoughts one moment and I might be totally blank in another. Friends, the attack on Gaza, white tiger of Arvind Agida, the slumdog, friends, the Mumbai attacks, my career, my job, friends, food, Ma, the stock market........ And then a sudden, deafening serenity. The overwhelming pace with which these feelings occur to me has not let me focus on anything at all. Meditation isn’t helping. Medication would be futile too. I wish I could exactly write my mind. Literally, every word of it without insisting on rhetoric and just implying what I think.