'PRO-GAY'

i am 18, a heterosexual male. i have 2 friends, who are close to my heart, but they seem to be closer to each other. so close, that i thought they were leaving me out.it infuriated me every time they met without my knowledge, so much that i even thought of making a new set of friends. but little did i know what was going on.....

about six months from now, they get arrested under the infamous act 377. they were detained after a notorious trial, for a term of approximately 10 years . by now you must've guessed what grave felony they had committed.
HOMOSEXUALITY

now, i was, as usual, completely unaware of this incident until one fine day they went missing from college.i knew there was something wrong from the mocking faces at campus.what i didn't know was that as i studied how to combine 2 capacitors in parallel, they were made to face the ire of public judgment, news channels and news papers, all screaming their names and thrusting their photographs, proclaiming their glory of busting the biggest racket of the decade and unmasking the culprits behind it. i learned of this on the 3rd day thence after recovering the mysteriously misplaced news dailies that i never craved for or anything!!
and there they were, contained in full embarrassment more than grateful for the police obligation towards the criminals.
i was dazed at the number of opinions a single newspaper projected, it almost looked like a debate. someone called them innocent, another demons in disguise while most other preferred the customary 'outlaw'.
as for me, i was clueless, what to comprehend..... i knew they were close, but?!?!
in fact, it was that very reason, their self-involvement and ignorance towards me that made me justify the time i spent alone at college for the past few days.
however, i was crestfallen and annoyed at their failure to be good friends and their cheek for doing such stuff. my blood boiled as i lost whatever sanity remained in me.
i picked up the phone and dialed their nos-residence and mobile, knowing well that it would go unanswered. the constant ringing buzzed in my mind as the thoughts and emotions in it infused making a poisonous cloud on which, i choked for an hour of solitary confinement. as though i was punishing myself for their sins.

the events unfolded in front of my eyes as i daydreamed.it all began as, an innocent party which progressed into an ugly drunken mosh pit. there they were, the sinister drug peddlers that went about meting out carefully measured pouches of drugs to the sozzled boys with a satanical grin. the boys took out their credit cards and began treating themselves to cocaine and pot. as these drugs influenced their minds they went into a state of lusty desire. so high they were, they forgot of their company and indulged in the orgiastic rituals of the homosexuals.
conclusion: a frat party all gone wrong!!

then i wondered how the papers changed their opinions. how judgmental they were, completely forgetful of the consequences the boys, their family, friends et al would suffer. but why blame the media it was them in the first place!
however,a few of the all-knowing(so-they-say) authors' editorials did sympathize with the boys, they claimed to see through all the chaos and hear through the clatter, the innocent pleas of their sorry souls, ranting and lashing at the govt, the judiciary or the police, whoever they held a grudge against, reprimanding them verbally for criminalizing innocent juvenile boys.
but none of this could shape my opinion. i was still unsatisfied and angry at their infidelity.

as my parents returned home i swiftly and quietly escaped making a bee-line for safe haven-our hangout.but my only sanctuary morphed into the worst dream. i was petrified beyond imagination as my mind reiterated the best days i spent here. i didn't know what to do???
i nearly cried in front of a gang of urchins who gaped at me like monkeys that behold the 8th wonder of the world-a 50 feet banana.i left, flustered and troubled.

as i walked home, i happened to be stalking a couple on the as they cuddled each other-arm in arms.
my mind was playing dirty games- i began to imagine my friends in their place. nausea gripped my very gut as i flinched. but what i realized next was that they were always kind of like that.
i remember both of them walking hand-in-hand as we took our evening stroll together discussing girls and teachers. i got angry and snatched one of their hands and told them from ever excluding me like this. then, i remembered how we were teased as we walked in together to class. it all seemed so normal then, we were almost inseparable. so what happened now. it almost struck me instantly...

"was i gay too??"

no! can't be, i always fantasized about Natasha, from SYJC commerce, and she was far from a man. so, i walked with false pacification and bewilderment. but then i wondered why they'd left me alone that night. had they invited me, i wouldn't be here anyway. so i finally decided that maybe i wasn't gay after all. that is why they didn't!
i then walked a tad more confidently my conviction about my sexuality strong and straight.

then again, my placid mind caught the current of fury. i hated them for what they had been! how they ignored me... how i was mortified because of them.
on the other hand i already had counter arguments to those allegations as well.
i did not hate them!! not for what they have been-my friends, not gay. and as far as i remembered they were the only friends i ever hung out with since sixth grade! they have never betrayed me to a bully nor to loneliness.and the only hurt i could ever cause to my self esteem would be by insulting the sanctity of friendship. i can't betray them! I'm probably their only confidant in this cold, inhospitable and ruthless world that crushes minority in accordance with their likes or dislikes.

i felt foolish for it was me, like the rest of the nation that thought by the lines of a certain deranged British Lord Macaulay, who in the ancient times of 1860, prematurely decided that any sort of homosexual interaction between a man or woman is against the order of nature. stealing from God this very privilege, especially, when these are his own children too.

it was then that i decided what should be my opinion. i knew that if i were to make any difference to any of my friends, those who make all the difference to me, i have a tough battle ahead. and probably the fiercest of adversaries. but i ain't going to be cowardly and seek the protection of pretense, that i despise a very natural state of being not a choice! if i did so i'd be saving my clean-sheet reputation but have tainted the very soul that i protect from the dirt that the society will fling at me.

i may not be gay...
but at least i can be 'PRO-GAY'

THE GIFT part II

Once out they joined a crowd of apparently crazy people bustling about in a mad rush and after long minutes of walking into the dark they reached two handsome buildings but their destination was neither. What they searched for was the dark gully between them. Only after they entered what they considered safe sanctuary did he plant Doron back to the earth and then said hastily,
“Son, we have come to the final stages of the game everybody else has been caught only the two of us remain. All the people you see out there are searching for us I don’t want us to lose if we stay till tomorrow untouched then we win and the two of us will be gifted dearly for our victory. I only want you to cooperate, you stay here till I come back ill try to go and sort out things with my friends. You dare not step out of this place. Do you follow me?”
“Papa what is the gift?”
“That you will find out soon.”
An abrupt silence fell which Tate took to be a response of conformity from his son, he then tucked the toddler in his cloak and left him all alone to face a cruel world awaiting him beyond this dark corner. Doron while wondering about the gift suddenly recognized the menorah embroidered on his father’s cloak, it was a cloak his mother had gifted Tate on Hanukah.

The only company Doron now had was the queer darkness and his mother’s memories, she was angelic being, her beauty panoramic. The perfect face with all its features at its place and of the correct shape and size, Mame Caesar could be cited as an example of flawless beauty.
Her enigmatic eyes were like stars twinkling over a perfect landscape of rosy cheeks formed under the influence of high cheek bones and terribly soft yet beautifully shaped lips; it all looked like a landscape proud of its beauty and uniqueness. To add a final touch a river of golden tresses flew above all other geographic wonders, one which no bard could possibly describe. This made the tired soul fall asleep.

Soon the darkness of the night faded away and the soundless morning took its place. Now that Doron’s hearing abilities betrayed his capability to hear any human he decided to pack up and to go out in search of his father.

Once again enthusiasm ran in his blood and he set out in search of his father but no sooner had he left that lady luck decided to turn her face away from him and he discovered what he least expected.

To his horror he now found lay before him frozen due to lifelessness the dead rigid body of his father. His overwhelmed body now felt writhing agony torture it, he could see no one to share his misery with so he consoled himself but to no avail. His melancholy grew when the thought came to him that they were perhaps the winner of the game.

They had won but he had lost…….

* * *







After a series of sobs and long minutes spent in prayers and confessions Doron made whatever little and futile effort to pay homage to his departed father and returned to his journey. He now had only one aim, to avenge his father’s death and after he did so he wished to have a peaceful and unlamented journey to his father so that the angels there would welcome him with as much respect his father had claimed for before entering the void.

Amidst the sea of emotion he overlooked the fact that there was a deadly silence that prevailed over the great market square of the Ghetto until a sudden siren followed by a deafening explosion caught him off-guard. On releasing his hands from over his eyes he realised that the southern flank of the fortified city was now rubble and pebble and its cause now advanced on him with rapid speed, it was a tanker and he would never be able to escape it unless he surrendered.

So he stood there, fear and anger surging within him he could no longer maintain his breath and started panting in panic. But unexpectedly the tanker now gave an abrupt pause to its motion and waited patiently for Doron to run away to safety but to its disappointment he didn’t budge at all. After a minute or so, a fair and serious face rose out from the war van that chuckled softly after seeing the size of its contender. The man looked mean but his face softened when he began to speak,
“Boy! What do you do here? This isn’t a place to play about…. What’s your name?”
“Doron”, “Ah! A Yiddish name….the gifted …eh”
“No.”
“Oh don’t bother I’m just a friend we’re the allies and we’re here to free you and your Jewish friends form the tyrant.” Then the conversation came to an abrupt silence and Doron kept a stern and proud temperament. This made the soldier admire him as the two examined each other with cautious eyes.
“You have anyone here?”
“No, everyone has left my family’s dead and I’m the only one left here.”
“Oh I’m sorry I regret their absence.”
And then peace fell in their exchange for sometimes as both hesitated to continue. And then,
“So, what say you want to come with us?”
Doron couldn’t have signified his consent any better, a smile now filled Doron’s face and he ran across to the tanker. The soldier shouted “we have company.” And lent a hand to the youngster and soon they set for their journey. Doron was now free from care there was no danger for him but the tyrant himself, indeed he was with the greatest power in the war the world had ever seen. They rode past many a landscape to be appreciated and then through a field which to his surprise was filled with people dressed like his father, in grey shirts and pants and recognised a few of them too then to his amazement he spotted his mothers face amidst the many which surrounded it. He again felt the same thrill grip him. He could only now see his mother very clearly and knew it was too real to be his imagination so he freed himself from the soldier’s grasp with a hard tug and jumped off the tank.

What would have been a fatal and gruesome demise was now inhibited by a huge pile of grass. The world had never seen a boy so blithe, ignoring the shouts from the soldier he ran across to his mother in an inhuman speed and then shouted to his heart’s content,
“Mutter!”
And she with a number of other women looked at him and then Mame herself started running towards the kid and shouted out in profound happiness “Doron!”
“My little cub I love you.”
“So do I mutter!”
And then an unspoken exchange took place as the woman lifted Doron onto her shoulder and started dancing showing her mad delight.

Tears of happiness rolled down the boys pink cheeks as he learned that day that his gift was his mother…..


* * *

THE GIFT(chapter 1)

My version of the story of the movie-'Life is Beautiful' in three parts
(got nominated and bagged the Oscar for best foreign film in its time)








He slid through the shadows of darkness, the darkness of his fear, his anxiety augmenting in his five-year-old heart, through clouds of acrid smelling smoke and arches of the renowned Ghetto of Warsaw over which floated a tense and confusing atmosphere.

This was what he did as every last one of his kith and kin was being deported to the Disinfection Chamber, which was a slight fortification to the much harsher ‘Gas Chamber’.

But, he continued his search, the destination of which was his father Tate Caesar.

It was only round the corner when he was surrounded by the crowd of mortals moving haywire with fear and hesitation, like helpless fowl doomed to meet a merciless end.

Setting apart his sudden rush of emotions, under his father’s advice, that one shouldn’t let his feelings overcome his determination and goal, he peered into the human mass intent to find his mentor’s bright face. After a few moments of futile effort he spotted a yard away from him, what he sought.

His eyes lit up with a strange wave of elation which now washed over the rest of him. Though it was the twelfth time in this month that he had visited his father, Doron Caesar felt warm blood run through his veins yet again, for his father was the only family, the existence of which he was aware of after Hitler decided to seclude the Jews from the rest of the society and torture them to death. Unfortunately, their family was an easy target.

He assembled himself and sprang onto his father’s shoulder, though he had a slight weight his unexpected jumping made his father shake up in a frightened manner. He then shouted in pure happiness,
“Doron! I’ve been missing you my little cub. Whatever are you doing here? Wasn’t I supposed to……”
“Oh no papa I just couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Happy birthday son, may god bless you and may you live upto a hearty age.”
“Thank you papa”. “Now boy, what do you desire?”
“Oh papa, my only wish is to stay with you for a day or two.”
“So be it then.”
“….but papa, what of the game?” “That we shall see later”.
Doron then ignored his thought that, the soldiers would catch them and they would lose their game of ‘Hide-n-Seek’
And chose to find pleasure in whatever happened, he was happy to limitless limits and in all his zeal and zest somersaulted over bare platforms and ducked down whenever necessary to deceive egregious eyes and then secretively reached a large building, a part of which was shabbily painted whereas the rest remained a humble abode to the conspicuous green layers of moss.
After entering through a low entrance they reached what seemed to Doron a mountain of bunk beds. They then walked upto the large rows of shelf-like beds and then with the company of Tate’s endless words of advice and precaution, which he had learned almost every time he visited his father, they began climbing the various rows one-by-one vigilantly, to the sixth row of bunk beds.

What succeeded this was unadulterated happiness, fun and merry making and it was to their unawareness that this bliss put them both to a deep spell of sleep until they heard a siren nearby screaming to the peak of its pitch. Tate woke up first, so did Doron to his quick succession. Confused too much after waking up from soothing sleep Tate fell down two levels of beds onto the floor, gathered consciousness and then walked across the room to the window after peering through the bare hole which took place of the fancy ones that the other stately buildings flanked, he shuffled back to the bed where now Doron now waited for an explanation from his fathers tense and weary self, who put on his cloak and dressed Doron in black shorts and a green sweater then lifted him onto his shoulder and then rushed out of the low door ducking down not to hurt the boy.


* * *

My G.S. Project

(Since I didn't receive any evaluation so here I write for you to grade me>>>
E,A+,A,B+,B,C+,C,D+,D
Do give your valuable input!)

I change myself I change the world.


Hiroshima and Nagasaki (1945), Global warming (1900), Russia – Georgia conflict (2008), Israel- Gaza war (2008), Mumbai terror siege (2008), Mumbai serial blasts (1993)……
Are all my fault.
I am the youth, ever so late-learning, ignorant, headstrong, argumentative and hypocritical. Therefore I am to blame.
Every time I litter, doze-off with the T.V. on, ride my motorcycle for mere show off, bathe myself with deodorant, scoff at a non A.C. bus, criticize the government yet make no effort to change it, forget to vote and much more. I kill another tree, imperil my kind furthermore, murder another Georgian or Israeli, invite another terrorist and ruin mother nature who has forever nurtured. I am the culprit and I only who can shut this Pandora’s box.
Let me battle and fight, raze everything off the surface of the earth and then muse in retrospect, about mine evil commitments. For it is me who dons the virtue of a rhino unless time rips it off me skin.
I cannot remember when last I used a dust-bin. Maybe, on the environment day but you must understand that I haven’t any choice, my life is fast and I’d rather save those few seconds to earn some money instead of walking to the disposal.
I cut a tree every year for Christmas, it’s a ball! But little do I notice the diminishing snowfall or the hotter sun.
Most say, humans will learn but only at the brink of annihilation. I shall too, and until then remain blissfully ignorant of mother earth getting ravaged, every passing hour. If I must, I will blame the world and vow to change, all so superficially. But when it comes to changing myself I shall not budge, I love myself a little too much!
-Kinshuk

It is a pity how the world is turning out today. How fresh minds are molded into such immoral contraptions and so efficiently that it seldom changes. It is as well said, ‘a world of cut-throat competition’. Everybody sets off on their path to make a difference at the earliest. However the only difference they create is to the environment, that too a pitiable one. They want to change the world in lieu of recognition but little do they realize that
‘The best preacher is most often the best follower.’ Their blood boils with anger at indifference and yet they do not realize that it is at their fault that nobody follows, one must be the best example of his/her own principles to make others believe in them. At this point we may consider a story, quite well known but simply a reiteration.

Mahatma Gandhi, the father of our nation, an august personality himself, at the peak of his struggle for Swaraj, became a common counsel to the distressed and oppressed Indians. So he was, for a middle class wife of a Gujrati merchant, she came to him with a unique request. Her ten year old son had developed a persistent habit of eating sweets in large quantities, it had already taken a toll on his health a few times earlier, but as he grew his hunger did too. She asked him for a solution as though he were some sort of magician. He asked her to return after a few days, however when the woman returned she received the same reply. This went on for two more times, until she visited him for the 4th time. Gandhi then told her son with much satisfaction, to stop eating sweets as it would affect his health, adversely. When asked why he gave this suggestion to the boy he confessed that he too was fond of sweets and preaching others its ills would be blatant hypocrisy. She got her answer and went back home an enlightened mother.

It is thus said most rightly that changing a person is as difficult as changing a habit but changing a world of humans is as good as changing oneself. In this context it is only appropriate to discuss another example.

There once lived a young man who was determined to change the world in his twenties. “ All is not well with the world let me change it” said he. He tried repeatedly but failed, in his forties however he learned that he cannot change the world. So he said, “If I can’t change the world, let me at least change my country.” He tries yet again till his sixties but fails. Upon realization of his inability he says, “If not my country let me at least change my village.” Once again trial precedes defeat and he concludes, “In my eighties let me at least change my family.” Once more he tries but fails. Finally in his nineties he says, “In my deathbed I can’t even change my family let me at least change myself.” But behold the angel of death was knocking at the door saying his time was up. As he was dying he said, “If and only if I had tried to change myself first, there would have been at least one changed man.”

On an introspective note, all of us dream but the greatness of Mahatma Gandhi is almost intangible. Yet if one develops extreme will-power, determination, morality and invulnerability one may always outshine the greatest of them all, be it nelson Mandela or Gandhi. Today, the community is global and platforms are much greater forums, indiscriminate as they are they are also accessed by media all around the world. It is therefore easier today than it was 50 or 70 years back when these leaders rose. But if one forgets, the key is to change yourself only when you are at fault and not at the cost of one’s integrity.

Having discussed that, we may infer that at the brink of the apocalypse there is a dearth of such leaders. Such leaders can be created, but doing so is inculcating a few basic values, in its course the essay shall now elaborate these. The basic definitions of the change we talk about here are these values. So to change oneself, one must also know in which way the change is to be directed. To begin with, a changed person is also referred as ‘ignited mind’. And to brew a perfect ‘ignited mind’, we need exact proportions of:
1. RIGHTEOUSNESS
2. CREATIVITY
3. COURAGE.
These ingredients seem to be inaccessible but it is quite the opposite. These can be inculcated even at a tender age, the only pre-requisite being parental support and a good primary school teacher. In the words of our former president Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam

RIGHTEOUSNESS
Where there is righteousness in the heart
There is beauty in character.
When there is beauty in character,
There is harmony in home.
When there is harmony in the home,
There is order in the nation.
When there is order in the nation,
There is peace in the world.


CREATIVITY
Learning gives creativity
Creativity leads to thinking.
Thinking provides knowledge
Knowledge makes you great.


COURAGE
Courage to think different,
Courage to invent,
Courage to travel into an unexplored Earth,
Courage to discover the impossible,
Courage to combat the problems
And succeed, are the unique qualities of the youth.
As a youth of the world,
I will work and work with courage to achieve success in all the missions of planet Earth.


These are the ways the changes can affect you. And the changes can be as little as quitting smoking so as to warn your children about the perils of not doing so. If however you believe that you can reproach your children for bad habits which you have in common with them, it is a fools deal you are making for they will just do the opposite of what you tell them to do. And besides not all of us desire to be world leaders, we can just be the perfect family leader, or an ideal village leader, else an efficient country leader, or perhaps if I’m wrong a historic world leader!

Right!

As every kid wonders in his exam hall with ink blotting his answer-script, every mother guesses the right amount of sugar in the tea,every youngster wonders about the pick-up he must use, every father worries which expense to cut down, every grandfather, the apt work to busy himself....

there is a loud BLEEP!
"I'm sorry but you are so very wrong!"

Now, if I may ask, what exactly is right???
Everybody has a definition for what is right and everybody else has reason to believe otherwise, but the ultimate judgment lies in the vicious hands of the critical second person. the mind that functions in a unique way distorting facts according to varied levels of knowledge, absorbing and discarding to one's own discretion the facts presented and finally forming an opinion. It is now the turn of the third person, to whose ignorance did this presentation of reasons fall prey. He receives a biased version of the actual datasheet, and on goes the same process.
In the system these days, there is a congenital privilege provided to some, 'The Haves'. Rich in a variety of ways pecuniary, health-related, emotional etc.
Basically, they do not bother whether somebody thought he/she was wrong, ideally this is the only solution one can give to somebody that fails to take-in criticism. Then there is this other kind of people who take -in criticism wearing the positive glasses, yet again employing ignorance to the negative, these are the ones that change themselves to fit-in. Lastly, there are those that take criticism to the heart, upset by it, they take the most drastic steps.

Now for those of who are not good at the 'Algebra of Life' I'll give you the relation between the above 2 paras. All the people that are now in a phase where you are awaiting somebody's approval, be it your parents, teacher, children, wife, husband, brother, sister etc. please let-go take it in your hands, do what you think is right. if you're wrong you'll repent but learn and if you're right, well done! But remember, people are not inclined to criticise your decision-making-skills but to preach you from their mistakes. There are positives and negatives of this too but its upto you, what kind you are: self-learner or blind-believer.

Lastly, the best you can do to combat this is prepare the heavy artillery, to shut everyone up. for e.g. study well, never lie unnecessarily, never commit to misdeeds and justify your reasons well. You'll never falter in convincing the second-person.

This is for all those who are going to appear for the exam-of-their-life(take it whichever way you wish).

Best Of Luck!

FUN

My mother told me when i was young,
about a certain thing called fun.
Fun, I would find she said,
in stories and play while i was still Ted.
But when i went to school,
I became mischievous Ted Toole.
Fun she'd say i would seldom find,
in the silly, forgotten play-things of mine.
For, mirth, I'd get most right,
from jest with friends and fight.
And then some day, I'd be a man.
The earning hand, for milk and bran,
And Pun would no longer rhyme with Fun.
A bashful wife and a blithe son,
would qualify as my sole life.
For whom day and night, I'd strive.
Then the only meaningful joy,
would come from making love,
and playing with my son's toy.

As time goes by, with work I'd wry.
No more love, only abundant sly.
Bad habits would then seem fun,
very different from toys, family and Pun!
Opium and beer with an empathetic peer,
would then be an indulgence so dear.
so much, so clear, still fear.
'Was ever my wife so near?'
A conflicted nay would break the tipsy.
No fortuneteller, no gypsy,
needed to tell me, I'd live no more, no better.
It was what struck me when,
I coughed up blood with some phlegm.
I had, what was my worst fear,,
the deadly, vicious, Cancer.
Hell broke loose and i broke down.
Every passing hour, got me wan.
Until finally, post seven days,
There on my bed, I'd be dead, lay-
.....

'What a waste!' I'd say,
from innocence to insolence to pestilence!

Now, for the anecdote.
A scholar, ages ago wrote:
"Fun isn't as Fun they say,
'Tis the weapon of At'e."

My acceptance speech

.......

..........

...............

from the start when i was 1 year old i made it to the guinness for having the CUTEST SMILE. then i just went on collecting an array of awards, from the most sincere student, to the athlete of the year, to the sweetest melody and most recently the best guy-next-door-award. its natural to me you see!
however it wasn't until last week that i even got an award for my latest venture.... blogging.
BOY-O-BOY! am i good or what?
so here it is the



award!!!

yay mee!!!

any ways, i'm not used to all this but i must write a few things on my blog about myself post this award, i mean whoever likes bragging about themselves????

kk now here are the rules: OOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

a. Put the image on your blog


b. List 10 truths about yourself


c. Give the award to 3 other people (i can't afford even 3! looks like here's a dead end)


d. Provide meaningful quotation

anyways, now lets get to the truths ( read MARVELS)

1. i was born on the 5th feb 1992... they're planning a worldwide holiday in my honor....

2. i am very intelligent! so much that even einstien couldn't match my record of getting thrown outta class.

3. i'm so goodlooking. snowwhite, rapunzel and thumbelina died to take a portrait with me!

4. i'm soo funny, charli chaplin retired 'coz he couldn't handle competition from me! poor chap, i always told him to give it up! however my idol(on these grounds alone!) is rakhi sawant. classic lady!

5. i'm a sucker at sports... i tripped and fell when i had to trow a ball over to a fellow fielder in my first cricket match.

6. i'm so fat, no kid would see-saw with me when i was 4!

7. i'm soo annoyed... i dunno which shoddy conniving ass wrote this about me.

8. i'm so adorable my teacher gave me golden stars on my notebook for writing the date in it!

9. i'm such a snob i gave a 10000rs tip to my taxi driver 'coz the papparazzi was following.

10. i just discovered, i have a doppleganger who hates me!





with that done... i now announce the sole reciever of my reward:

taa daa:

SAMHITA BHAKTA!
(well thats coz i know nobody else!)


and now for the people who still haven't got enough of me. oh its you all! you loyal fans! here comes the thought for the day

I have met a lot of hardboiled eggs in my time, but you’re twenty minutes.
- Oscar Wilde

it has no special reference to me but it's here cause i love to use it on people
(you should see the reactions!)

alas! that seems to be the end of it.. so adios amigos!
P.S. ok dont get offended you're not all that bad! maybe, just maybe! you'll grow up to be like me someday!

ciao till then!

A THOUSAND SORDID SUNS

Paucity has ruined great kingdoms,

then why leave that of the sun?

Precisely, but unless any life is harmed,

And the world by it is only charmed,

I wouldn’t object the burning up of empty farms.

But the Americans thought not so,

For, the seeds of enimity they had to sow,

In retribution to the tyrant Hirohito.

On August 6, 1945 American officers Tibbet and Ferebree,

Ordered to unleash Thin Boy and Fat Boy on a killing spree.

Killing humans, their strategic key,

Unlocking a tremor of fear,

So that their victory was sheer.

They showed a thousand dying souls instantly,

the eye of The Creator who destroyed.

Their departure leaving the life of many, void…..

Now that the city and its people have recovered,

a disfigured newborn or two still discovered.

Thankfully, no Hiroshima or Nagasaki again occurred

On that day, the world saw a wrath so glum,

Like a thousand sordid suns.

SLUMDOG-GAZILLIONAIRE

most people would percieve the title as a rags-to-riches-story.
then there is me, who changed the angle of perception 180 degrees, for me it was more like "Millionaire Slumdog".
the protagonist who, began off as a slumdog was rich but only got richer. now that raises a certain amount of doubt! but one must remember that there is a clear stream of reason between doubt and certainty(LOL, srry philip seymour hoffman). here being, the richness in his character, the abundance in friendship, the only thing he lacked was money, but it was very well shown how easy it is to make a large wad of green bucks every day, by feigning innocence.

a few days back i had read a certain person write in his blog that Indians are good for nothing rustics, still stuck with mundane middle-class character drama. Ahem, i beg to differ, you forget that Indians don't loot Indians, they'd rather have your sweet american ass! I still wonder how a single movie which had lesser nominations than a certain curious case beat every bit of competition from the fellow contenders, be it Critics-choice, Baftas, SAG or the coveted Oscars. oh but of course you want reality more like poverty, destitution and corruption. it puts you to wonder how we Indians still survive, hello!!!!!! where did the pursuit of happiness get its story??
I know, Im being a sour sport but you want poverty, i'll give you MOTHER INDIA. you want corruption, i'll give you RDB. you want current affairs, i'll give you TZP. did any of these even get nominated for an Oscar???? not quite, then the great American was busy musing over silly middle class issues. Boy-o-boy! you gotta be kidding me, did anyone notice that none of the actors got nominated, where did the Performing-arts go???? oh well anyways Mumbai earned its share through the location fees.

however, it saddens me further to take notice of the open exploitation. how well the conniving British have used a story by an indian, shot it on Indian land, with Indian actors and earned millions and accolades too! astonishing how Mr. Boyle didn't have his own conscience irked in the process of making the masterpiece! by this I point to the fact that we didn't see any generous donations on his behalf, especially after earning millions from the very same project.

I appreciate art, and so i regret that Indian movies don't get enough recognition abroad. but then again why do we care??

Mother-Faker

Quite a profanity! but apt enough too.........




When a girl marries away she most obviously leaves her childhood, youth to approach a relationship so intimate that she most thankfully accepts oblivion towards those old ties which drove her to marry in first place.
Life takes its course, she now has a family, a caring husband, two mischievous but adorable kids, and new friends that take precedence over old ones on the PRIORITY LIST. she seems to have forgotten the old promise that she had made on the foyer of her 'ex-house',
"A son is a son till he gets his wife, but a daughter is a daughter throughout her life."
the irony is that she has a new life, as a wife, her lifetime as a daughter is long finished. and besides that, a consolation that her brother still lives on with them, pacifies her conscience every time she browses through those old photo-albums.
and then a certain February morning she gets a call, from her relatives informing about her mothers death. she falls apart, trying to imagine what must have pained her so much that she deceased. she conveniently blames herself for it and books herself a ticket on the next flight to India.
on reaching home, she finds a house whitewashed, off emotions, and of strangers, offering condolences, that very house she left as a girl of 20 and returned a lady of 4o.
to see her brother and father in a state of distress she breaks down too. another victim to the wrath of melancholy.she wails in tune with the funeral dirge and cries as she sees her ma, burn in the pyre, and vaporize into the air around. too sad by now, she decides to live on with her father a few more months.
this is where she falls into the trap of dilemma.she cannot decide where her heart must lie, at her home in California or back here in Mumbai.after an exile of 2 months she decides to return to her children in California, but leaves her heart behind in Mumbai.
Another ten years or so, when she has fairly severed her ties again, she gets another phonecall, this time giving the news of her fathers passage into the void. sorrow welled in her again. this time she decides to stay a little shorter than last time. saying her final goodbyes she rushes away. then gets involved in the bustling streets of California.
her children grow up fast and she prays everyday that they grew younger instead, loving expressions transformed to pleasantries and then to arguments. she feels left out, an outgoing duo of children and a career-fanatic husband each turning a blind-eye to her efforts. thats when she decides to get herself involved in her brothers family, trying to regenerate the same connection she used to have ages ago.
in due course she pours all her attention in his family alone, but forgets her family here. the children, husband feel her ignorance towards her maternal duties. she tries to cover-up by blaming them. but blame games only worsen her family and soon she is left alone her daughter married-off and son off to Harvard to complete his education.

Life's a full cycle.

P.S. at this point i'd like to reveal a single phrase that keeps this cycle goin. the same notion that both generations of children bore in their minds before separating from their parents,
" mine is a Mother-Faker."

Money

that singular word drives the world crazy!
mankind boasts of being the king of earth but when the call is for money, its worst probable invention, it makes them fall to unprecedented depths.
from a certain american banker to another indian business tycoon all have ignored their principles and morals in an attempt to magnify their bank-holdings and assets. to quantify their dishonesty is impossible as, i seldom remember anyone forgetting their families to quench their thirst for petty wealth.
the study of etymology derives money from latin moneta meaning mint or coinage, besides relating it to monere meaning warn or advise.
It, for obvious reasons doesn't take a rocket-scientist to do the math here. it can only be considered a wrath foretold by the greatest men of all times and if truth be said misfortune has finally taken its course consuming thousands of distinguished as well as undistinguished souls.
in retrospect, if one sees money has been such an evil, it has perished whole families be it in excess or dirth.
shortage of currency takes the form of hunger and penury consuming individuals in gargantuan numbers. to the contrary that in excess manifests itself as jealousy and greed consuming hale and hearty families. it has undermined the very sanctity of brotherhod and yet you wouldn't find any shortage of temples built in honour of Juno, in whose temple the evil was moulded, rather coined.
my observations and conclusions have taken me to a situation unlike another. i have never before experienced a shortage of money, only an excess and am pained to infer that it may never be so because of the evil it has been in my life.
as a child, i had succumbed to the bad habit of stealing money for the mere cause of buying silly playstuff, we used to collect but as my brain aged i relised it was a pointless wastage of money.
for money itself i have seen many families break apart and fear mine will too in due course.
then again money creates a certain something called status, to keep which most other families perish.it is after 17 years of my existence that i have seen so much. but when i see the many i am left to live yet. i am scared what outcome it would bring. a thing as puny as money has for the first time threatened my sanity, i'm left with only the assurance of my family when this thought comes to my mind but then again we have also seen sons chasing money abroad while their roots are dying in its lack.that pains me further, but i dont think, that my career would affect my family ties esp. after all that has already occured to me.

INTRODUCTION

(enter Kinshuk Bhakta)
i'm not poetic i'm not a writer, niether a constant blogger but i love writing my heart out, and 'Thoughts Astray' is another experiment of mine. lets hope a successful one!
i do not write frequently but when i do, i empty all of it in here.... so please bear with me if the frustration is too evident. please don't bother getting offended 'coz i dont really care.
and besides every time you feel i'm wrong please write in or comment at least, i'd like to justify myself...
anyways its my time to write and yours to read so HAPPY READING!