Monday, January 26, 2009


Some things in life reside perpetually… even if you crave to forget them, still, they fancy remaining super glued to your grey cells.. they turn up at certain events and leave that slight grin on your face.. the grin that reminds you of how disgusted you felt, living that moment.. They are bad experiences.. you never want to live them again.. and every time that memory pops out, you are left saying, “Oh!!.. How foolish was I..”

Well.. I have been jammy enough to breathe some awful experiences.. I was caught red-handed while “using” the staff toilet(ladies) in school.. I was convicted of writing a shitty love-letter to a girl of my class, who happened to be the daughter of a senior teacher… the crime I never committed.. Words will fall short if I start mentioning all of them..

But the one who sits at the top, will surely get the limelight.. This thing happened about a year back.. so.. celebrating it’s about-anniversary, I’m going to narrate this unfortunate yet funny yet seriously disturbing episode.. it was my first encounter with a Homo…(kids.. leave the page now!.)

Winters 2007.. freshly out of the torturous third semester exams, we all were desperately trying to kill time.. have fun.. go out.. enjoy.. it’s very often that I plan an exhilarating holiday well before.. and nothing ever happens..

I met my school friends in Mayur Vihar and signed them goodbye by 7:30pm.. my exterior wasn’t that eye-catching.. Un-brushed long curly hairs were un-wholly matched by the misplaced unbalanced goatee of mine(only if you call it.. I Call It..) a bus was going to drop me at Noida More from MV.. and another would take me to my place..

The bus arrived.. jam-packed.. hardly any space to stand.. I got into the bus (I love packed out places).. I managed to stand beside the conductor’s seat, near-the-rear door.. just as the bus began to move, I raised my hand above to hold the overhead rails.. THIS was my only mistake..

Well.. my hand didn’t touch the rail first, but another hand.. There was a short baldy guy, standing just beside me wearing a Denim Jacket.. very very complicatedly designed..(Fresh out of Paris.. haah).. a jeans with those creepers and climbers design on them with some shiny glittering dots.. a popped out belly which was very carelessly covered by his skin-tight-fluorescent-red-colored-T-Shirt… The faint light inside the bus, didn’t provide any help to his dark complexion.. and on the top of it… he was wearing dark goggles.. Dreadfully over-sized for his juvenile fat face.. I was just hoping that this guy didn’t boast a girl friend.. because if he did, I would have died of self disrespect.. now I wish that he had one...

Just as I removed my hand away from his in a cavort, the guy quiet Rajnikantingly removed his gogs and placed them strategically over his head..(or forehead.. a small face makes it hard to discern..).. and smiled..

“I’m very sorry..” I smiled back.. DCE etiquettes shine on..

I guess his smile widened.. now I could study his yellowish, ghutka chomped, paan red-ened tooth.. he was wearing metal necklaces too.. I wish I had the camera to click those multi-colored tooth structure.. well.. the smile was anything but pleasing.. I smiled again and turned away..

There are occasions when some people stare at you and even without staring at them back, you feel him/her gape you..

That man.. the boyish-man.. hadn’t turned his gaze away.. he was looking straight at me.. and it was perturbing.. I looked at the closed window pane which reflected my face and searched for any funny faults.. but it was alright.. I could see him look at me.. without a single blink.. that irritating good-boy smile on his face.. I could see that in his reflection too..

why??.. why me??.. there are hundred others.. look at them.. IS she a girl??.. dressed like a boy.. no.. she wasn’t.. after battling with baffling questions and getting no fruitful answers, I managed to ask..

“kya hai??..”

words came out for the first time from my redundant spectator.. and what he spoke will be etched in my psyche for years to come..

“Jo tereko chahiye.. Wahi mereko chahiye..”..

That did it…

Hells broke loose.. I was horrified.. disgusted.. appalled.. it is hard to clarify the way I felt.. on one hand I wanted to punch this moron off the running bus, but on the other, I was afraid even to utter a single word.. I started pushing myself back.. towards the last seats.. and decided against giving any heed to the fatso.. and all this time he didn’t bother to look away.. all his attention was mine.. He got down at Akshardham..  Even while de-boarding, he turned back and looked at me.. But I didn’t move a single inch.. I got down at Noida More.. reached home, called the one I was visiting, and laughed the horror off..


Well.. I may not be good at judging people.. I may be thinking a way too much.. may be the line meant something else.. “jo tereko chahiye.. wahi mereko chahiye”.. may be he’s talking about a seat.. or a girl friend.. he he… whatever.. he didn’t know how to behave with people.. or straight people for that matter...

I have developed a certain amount of amnesty for homosexuals these days.. specially after hearing Raghu (Roadies) , that according to some philosopher, the ones who oppose or curse homosexuality are homosexual in themselves.. true.. why should we indulge into the likes and passions of some other individuals… Talking of India, if the films like Fashion, Dostana, gets an approval of public viewing, then who knows, the IPC may consider reshaping its section 377… but the straights should be left alone too.. Dostana must regain it’s true meaning..

.. no doubts the metro announcer reminds us everyday…

“kripya anjaan aadmiyon se dosti na karein”..

PS: Khanna.. thnx for the inspiration you povided to give birth to this post.. long live our Dostana..         

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Once Upon a Time.. in a Lifetym..

Hey… My bloggy associates… The fresh Year is here.. (as if u didn’t discern..).. Happy New Year to all of you.. may all your dreams and wishes come true this year.. and may you all gain some mass..  well.. 31st night was never this amusing… I mean, no parties, no orgies, no DJs can contest the feel I underwent rejoicing my 21st new year.. Swami Ram Tirth ashram never appeared so splendid… My classmates never felt so balmy… I never had so much pleasure playing the six strings.. The blaze never seemed so inviting.. The World never looked so happy..

Well.. at around 10:30pm, girls got the consent to stay outside their rooms till 12.. Gupta and me cajoled the ashram guard to permit us the entrée to the woods lying in the backyard.. and at around 11:30pm, the flames began to shoot.. natives around, started filling themselves.. The entire horde clustered around the fire.. The chilly winds carried the poignant news of the demise of 2008.. the 2008 that will never be back in our lives.. the 2008 which had ups and downs for all of us.. but the fire presented enough warmth to declare the gifted arrival of 2009.. The baby was ready to open her eyes..

well.. I had no problems in clouding the frivolous brain with such fillo-sophisticated thoughts.. It was a moment when I hoped the clock was moving slow.. allowing me to live more of it.. Gulp it down… save it.. never let it go..

Jitendra started the proceedings with a spectacular piece of his own poetry.. the poem dyed the unique events of the year.. it was followed by songs from akash, nitin, dheeraj and me.. Songs of love.. Songs of life.. everybody joined.. it was like a dream chorus.. then Gunveer started the Countdown.. from 60…59…58…57… 3..2..1.. yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…

All of us jumped up in the air.. the fire got brighter.. the smiles got wider.. the heart throbbed faster.. Good wishes were exchanged.. Hugs were passed on.. The entire ambience made us feel lucky.. The clear Dehradun sky welcomed us to the new year.. The unseen, unknown 365 days ahead.. It was time for some sound.. Nitin’s “Haishya”.. Gupta’s “ari ari ari”.. slogans involved everyone.. it was animesh’s birthday.. and I’m sure he’ll remember it forever... Even Raju Sir couldn’t defy the feel.. he also sang a few songs.. I mussay he is a fine Singer..( Thank You sir… for never letting us feel who the boss was.. you were more like a friend.. another student.. one from us..).. Following the DCE off-time sacrament, none of the girls returned to their rooms at 12.. and there were no one to push them back.. people answered the phone calls.. chatted around..

It was a memorable night.. but the Camp Fire night was triple the fun.. I’ll write about it soon...

Till then… Happy New Year to all of you……

..Late it Be.. be-letted..

Bhavnao Ko Samjho..

PS: excuse the author for the ungrammatical Title..