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Archive for the ‘Life’ Category

The Year That Wasn’t

In Life on November 16, 2011 at 9:00 pm

I don’t know what triggered it off…..

A desire to just vanish. To see what was on the other side, or maybe, just not have to see how I was living.

So I started drinking more, smoking more, and re-started my love for midnight bike rides….. YESYUS, I know, not the wisest of decisions, but then, that’s me.

So, since December last year I have:

Burnt my right calf ( to 2nd and 3rd degrees) on the silencer on my bike.
Torn the toe of my left foot off in a sand spill.
Become a recluse.
Dislocated my shoulder when I got sideswiped by an overladen tempo….
Broke my arm requiring three platinum screws and 3 weeeks in the hospital.

Have been back home for three weeks now and healing well (xxx), but more importantly, have started feeling the healing powers of music again.

So, ironically, and without further ado:


Song for a Lazy Day…

In Life on October 24, 2009 at 8:05 pm

cos’ I just don’t feel like getting out of bed this Saturday…

An Apology

In Life on October 7, 2009 at 9:49 pm

… to the lady I slandered in the last post:

‘Buttmachine’ – THAT 1 GUY

Yes, yes.. I deserved to get dumped…


Winds of Change

In Life on October 7, 2009 at 8:03 am

There are certain poignant moments in every relationship that mark milestones through the journey which follows when two souls unite.

Unlike, say… the first date, kiss, fight or orgasm however, we don’t hear of these moments because, well… we just don’t talk about them. The one we’ll discuss today is never spoken of at a girl’s slumber party, or even a boy’s night out.

You won’t find mention of it in your local library, even if you scoured the entire ‘Romantic Literature’ section, simply because, despite its magnitude, not one writer has yet found a way to put pen-to-paper and scribe a dialogue on the subject… in a mature, cohesive manner.

Of those who have tried, there are three distinct groups: the miserable souls who still lay fallen by the wayside (clutching their sides in hysterical laughter at the memory of when it first happened); those who reach a certain age and just give up, deeming the subject too ‘immature’; and finally, those who’re no longer around—having been butchered for their honesty by their partners.

Which is exactly why, at a point of time in my life I’d call ‘getting-on-middle-age-but-just-short-of-geezer’- and reasonably safe with my (ex) girlfriend residing in another city –  I step forward to pull that sword from the friggin’ stone!

Here goes…


And the day dawned like Thor’s hammer coming down on a China gong as my eyes snapped wide open and darted around automatically looking for the closest dog to blame. But as a cloud of something else vanquished the last foggy remnants of sleep from my mind, I realised, ‘Hey, that wasn’t me!’

The dogs weren’t even in the room, but that meant, (unless the house was haunted by the flatulent ghost of its last tenant), that it was… Her!

She, the still-blissfully-asleep angel (or so I’d thought), who lay cocooned on the other side of the bed.

‘That didn’t happen.’ I heard a muffled voice peep though the pillow.

‘You pooted, Baby!’ I exclaimed.

‘No I didn’t! And we will never speak of this again!’ Her crimson face turned towards me while trying to maintain a semblance of sternness.

‘Come here my little Flutterbum!’ I cajoled as I reached out to take her into my arms while she kicked out in the general direction of my nuts.

What did you call me?’ she half-shouted, half-laughed when I had finally managed to restrain all four thrashing limbs. ‘I’m serious! This never happened. And unless you plan on sleeping with a grid-iron jock strap from now on, that’s the way we remember it. Got it?’

‘What never happened? Go back to sleep, Love.’

…I smiled, only too happy to drop the conversation. For me, it wasn’t about the teasing or the comeuppance, you see. Frankly, I can’t even remember the first time I gave up on trying to keep them silent

– through a complex choreography involving renal contractions and awkward pelvic leanings –

and just let one rip in her presence. I guess it’s just a reflection of the differences between the sexes when it comes to our attitudes towards anal fluttery.

Men, by and large, after crossing over from singledom into ‘committed’ territory, tend to view the first time they farted within hearing (or smelling) distance of their partners pretty much like the first scratch on the new car. You’re glad it happened, and while you don’t look forward to it happening again anytime soon, it does get less traumatic (and a little easier to deal with) from now on.

Most women, on the other hand, would rather have you believe in the concept of the immaculate female digestive system:

Where stuff goes in but nothing comes out. And some men revel in that myth too…

A good friend, let’s call him Arjun, still refuses even to acknowledge that women shit! I kid you not!

“Waitaminit! Hang on, so where’s all the life-altering relationship stuff you started out hinting about?”, you ask?

‘You faux-intellectual fraud!’ you slurrr.

No, really. Think about it. My carefully-prepared and well-researched dissertation titled Male and Female Perspectives On, and the Short and Long-Term Effects of Flatulence on Human Relations, really does have a cohesive conclusion.

Now pay attention men. When your lady flatulates (There’s that Microsoft Word ‘red line’ under ‘flatulates’)  – See what I mean about this subject being so hush-hush? You won’t even find this seemingly-probable word in the dictionary! – in your presence, it is more than the mere sum of last night’s rajma-chawal and lassi. That smell is the whiff of a peaceful revolution in the air. The genesis, of a whole new era in your relationship. It is…

The Unclenching, as it were.

I charge you: stop laughing and grasp the concept!

It is the sign, no, The Sign, that she has finally, really and truly accepted you as a part of her own private universe. Accept her exhaust as an exclamation of her newfound trust in you and honour it.

Tread carefully men, you have broken new wind… err, ground here.

Snake-charmers and Maharajas we’re not…

In Life on October 3, 2009 at 10:52 pm



A harmonium, a mouth-harp and a Beatboxer ?!?

P.S. : (with thanks to Divya for finding the link)

Like the Joker in a Pack of Cards…

In Life on October 2, 2009 at 7:19 pm

or the blank tile in a game of Scrabble, you can be anything you want to be.

so Be!


P.S: I almost forgot,,,,

Random Song For the Day

Cos’ Trent Reznor Sings Dirtier Than Even I Could Ever Talk…

In Life on October 2, 2009 at 11:21 am

actually, that’s not true. I can be plenty ‘Doity’ when I want to, too..

(2 times to, too-toot-toot-ti-too)


PS: Why are there people with straitjackets all around me now?


In Life on September 30, 2009 at 9:21 pm

is not  a happy place to be,

When you know who you’re without,

and with whom you’d rather be

Random Song for the Day

In Life on September 30, 2009 at 4:58 pm

turn the volume up really LOUD now…

or a slightly longer absolutely 80’s-type remix of the same song which (God forgive me) I love!

Good friends, good music, good food, and a Beer Buzz…

In Life on September 25, 2009 at 4:13 pm

or a whiff of Kerala or Manali; make me (at least for a while) fall in love with life all over again.

Sounds simple enough, no?

Well, it’s not.

While a beer buzz and a toke might be easy enough to achieve (or score), it’s the other three; finding the right friends, who like the right music, and enjoy your kinda’ food, which is much harder.

And bringing all three together, so much more so…

But it does happen for me. Every so often that I wake up happy the next day

*PS: fingers crossed and knockin’-on-wood*