Ego and Love!

love is blind.

This is one of the stupidest statements I've ever heard.

If something makes you blind, you can’t call it ‘love,’ can you?

After looking at the title of this post, some of you might be thinking that love and ego are antonyms. I beg to differ. They go hand in hand. If one isn’t utterly selfish, he can’t love anybody truly and honestly. To be selfish, one must first have a ‘self.’ And having a true self is not easy. A selfish man is the one who isn’t concerned with others in any primary matter. His wishes, desires and dreams aren’t guided by others. He doesn’t need the approval of others. He doesn’t need the assurance of others that he is good, that his work is good. He lives for himself. He loves himself. He respects himself. This is why I say that only an utter egotist can love somebody honestly. If a person cannot respect himself, he can neither love nor respect others. So there is nothing called selfless love. And anything which is selfless is rotten, let alone love.

I often hear things like, “I can do ANYTHING for my girl,” “I have given my heart and soul to my boy,” etc. But giving one’s soul is the easiest thing in the world. Keeping it with oneself is difficult.

Let me narrate you an incident that took place some months ago. I was sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for my friend. A few tables away from me, a boy of my age was sitting, reading a book. Some time later, a drop dead crazy gorgeous girl walked into the coffee shop and to my envy she went and sat in front of the reading boy. Well, the boy said ‘hi,’ in a nonchalant way, and she apologized for coming late. The boy said it wasn’t a problem since he had his book for the company. Then our heroine got angry all of a sudden and said to him that she deliberately came late in order to know whether he was worried about her or not. She then mouthed some imprecations and walked out of the coffee shop furiously. And I was not jealous anymore, not because she walked out on the boy, but because I was happy for not having a person like her in my life. Let beauty be damned, I don’t want a bimbo for a lover.

This is what we get to see everywhere. The girl wears her boyfriend as her badge and the boy keeps his girlfriend as his champion’s trophy. And they call it love. True romantic love is only possible to people of unimpeachable self esteem. Now where was the girl’s self esteem in the above example?

One of the biggest fallacies is that love is a matter of heart and not the mind.

Let me tell you something: love is related to mind, and not heart in any way. It is NOT independent of reason and one cannot love anyone without being rational; it is a subject of values and only a rationally selfish man with the highest self esteem is capable of love, because it is only he who can hold his convictions and values firmly. If he cannot value himself, he cannot value others, and eventually cannot love anybody. Such is the nature of love. It is thus an expression of your highest values, and the greatest gift you receive for your chosen actions, your character of the highest kind, for the joy he/she receives from you through your virtues. It is definitely not blind, because it sees a lot.

Love is devoid of any pity or sympathy, contempt, self-sacrifice and compromise. These things never exist between people who are equal, and love can only exist between equals.

In love, there can only be reverence and glory.

A woman, in spite of being brilliant, leaves her job to take care of her family. Now this is not a compromise in any way, because her family comes above everything else. Her first priority is her family and not her job. She is doing it for her own happiness and for the love of her husband and children. She is utterly selfish and completely virtuous. On the contrary, if she places her job above her family and still gives it up, then it would be a compromise. And it is definitely not virtuous. It’s like saying, ‘Schedule your priorities. Don’t prioritize your schedules.’

If a man’s wife is suffering from a deadly disease and he spends all his money for her treatment and also leaves his job to take care of her at home, it is again not a compromise. He does it because he is an egotist. He can’t be happy if something happens to his wife. His wife comes above everything else. He does it for himself. He does it for his love for her.

Now, let me tell you what a compromise is.

A boy wants to go on a trip with his friends and have some fun. But his girlfriend doesn’t want him to go, because she wants him to be with her. He is cognizant of the fact that she is not sick, or depressed in anyway, but simply wants him to be with her. He succumbs and stays with her. He is unhappy for missing the trip, but he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want her to know that he is unhappy, and he does it under the pretense of his so-called love for her. And this is called a compromise, which is certainly not virtuous. Compromise is a negative term, and not positive. What the boy did for his girlfriend is not love, but rotten dick-headedness. Anyone who compromises is a brute.

When a boy asks his girlfriend to change, say, a particular personality trait, her dressing style, her hair style, her friend circle, or anything else, she does it blindly, without a process of thinking. She thinks that giving up something (something that defines her identity) for him is 'love.' But only she doesn't know that it is not love, but slavery.

The biggest crime in the world, folks, is not murder, or extortion, or fraud, or rape, but having self-pity. All the other crimes I mentioned start from this single crime itself.

When a relationship ends in an awful way, some get into a state of melancholy and it is quite normal. They share it with their close ones, not to gain sympathy, but they just want to get it out of their systems. They never make any fuss about it, but deal it with dignity.

There are others who belong to another category: they start pitying themselves and start advertising their misfortunes, everywhere, with everyone (even with total strangers). They expect others to say that they are good and their exes are scumbags. They need ASSURANCE from OTHERS that everything is going to be all right. Their self esteem is breached, they start enjoying the attention they are getting from their sympathizers, and eventually they start enjoying that pain. Technically speaking, they become masochists. And masochism is a disease.

It’s people like these who are incapable of loving anyone, people without self esteem, people without integrity. These are the kind of people that always need others to guide their actions; their lives depend on others’ judgments. They never ask, ‘Am I correct?’ but all they ask is, ‘Am I correct in others’ eyes?’ Others’ opinions about them and their work matter a lot to them than their own. I agree sometimes some relationships do not work, and it causes some pain. But pain is not the reason to suspend the faculty of independent judgment. Pitying oneself is not going to get one anywhere. When a man starts having self-pity, he starts destroying himself. And how can a self-destructing man love anyone?

Now you understand why one needs to have an ego in order to have the capability of loving. Anything done for personal happiness is good (provided it doesn’t cause any disturbance, pain or embarrassment to others) and anything done to please others, no matter who they are, is despicable. It is slavery.

When I see a man looking at the sky, enjoying the cosmic beauty, with his head thrown back, it is the sight of the uplift of his head that fascinates me more than all that heavenly glory. But I get sick of that same uplift of head when I see him kneeling down in front of a girl, beseeching to accept his love. Love? Sorry, wrong usage of the word here.

So where does true love come from?

It can only come from a self-sufficient ego.

Now I would like to ask a question to all those Lailas and Majnoos who say, ‘I can do ANYTHING for my boy/girl’: Where is your ‘I’

*************

I humbly wish you all have lovers, and not girlfriends/boyfriends. Hope you get my drift

P.S. Having said the things I firmly believe in, I might still write funny stories where boys behave in a silly way in front of girls. But that would just be for pure fun and entertainment.

Does NAME matter?

Names are a peculiar human trait. We build our lives around our name. A name which is given to us without our assent. A name which we are aware could make or break our social life. Ever heard of a guy name Muthuswamy rocking the party scene? No, right? But with a name like Rohan or Vicky, the same guy could be a party hopper with multiple girlfriends instead of the computer programmer/geologist/rocket or nuclear scientist he is today.

Names also lend themselves to much disintegration during childhood. For example Muthuswamy will never be treated with respect by the school bullies (usually named Vikram, Vicky, Vijay, Rohit or one of the more ‘hip’ names). Muthuswamy’s name will be dissected and much fun will happen at his expense. Muthuswamy’s friends will call him Muthu. The bullies will call him a shorter name which will leave poor Muthuswamy scarred for life. I came across a true story: There was a guy in school whose name was such. 6-7 years of that torture and he decided to have his name legally changed. He was renamed Kaushik. The bullies responded by calling him "Cowshit".

Now, let us do an imagining exercise. Right. Close your eyes. But then, how will you read this? Right then, don’t close your eyes. Your eyes are important to this blog. Imagine if you will, Muthuswamy. What is the image that comes to your mind? I know. Fat, dark guy with snot in his nose and oil in his hair. Right? Absolutely. It wont matter if the kid is thin, fair as milk and his nose is clean as a whistle. All that matters is that people who hear that name think of the fat, dark kid. Now imagine Vikram. Tall, strapping young guy with a close up smile, right? Won’t matter if he’s a short, fat guy with a smile that can break mirrors. People who hear that name will think of the former. The power of names. Quite something, right?

Muthuswamy will also face the curse of the funny name while in college. The college studs will ridicule his name in order to impress the girls. To the girls, Muthuswamy might as well not exist and they will remember Muthuswamy only when there are notes to be had. Muthuswamy will not be boyfriend material because of his name* but he will be friend material because of his class notes.

Muthuswamy will also be unlucky in love. The girl he finally proposes to will say no. Not because of any inherent problem with Muthuswamy. Its just that being called Muthuswamy’s girlfriend is not exactly cool. Muthuswamy will finally settle down with some girl his parents choose for him.

But its not all bad for Muthuswamy. Due to his name, Muthuswamy is most likely to go on to top his school, college and university. His name might cause him to be ridiculed on the social circuit, but it is pure gold on the education circuit. He is most likely to get a plum job, a house, a car and most likely to become a millionaire fastest among than his peers. Muthuswamy will not have to endure the perils of relationships, because his name predisposes him to an arranged marriage. Vikram/Vicky is most likely to become a struggling model/actor/BPO guy or star on Emotional Atyachaar and have a string of relationships. Marry divorce, remarry, divorce etc. His name predisposes him to such things. Such is the power of names.

So, parents or would be parents will do well to know this. Naming your kid is a very important event. What name you give them will decide what direction their future goes. Not really. All this is my theory, which may or may not be true. But try not to name your kid Muthuswamy or Rameshwaram Murthy or Perunambiar or Kuppaithotty. It will save many counselling sessions.
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*not always true. A girl named Lakshmipriya might find his name charming.
–
The video which planted the seeds of this post:

Of your Love!

How many times I wondered,
And in darkness I pondered-
Will it ever happen to me?
Will I ever knowingly see?

How you feel to be touched

From nearness to be watched
How you lovingly smile;
And speak in a silent while

Or just walk together
With a silent laughter
How I waited for years
And counted those hours

With just a hope of promise
Of your love and my bliss

Now the tranquility is out of reach

Alacrity is what now I search!

The Message! Part-1

All characters and events depicted in this post are fictional, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely and completely coincidental.

**********************

It was cold December night and there was complete silence all over. Mahesh and Rajneesh had decided to dig the grave, one had pick-axe and other a shovel. It was around 2 in the night, and they had dug 8 feet deep hole. Sometime later when shovel struck the ground it made contact with a metal and produced a sharp sound which echoed in the silence night. This was the sweetest sound they had ever heard. They rejoiced and danced like little kids.

"what do we do?" asked Mahesh

"Obviously take it and run" Rajneesh replied.

"Not so soon boys.." said a third voice.

There stood a fat plump middle aged whiskered fellow, in a khaki uniform looking down the grave smiling sarcastically.

***

Sadashiv had dedicated his entire life to rob banks, people and houses. He had started off as a petty thief, and very soon grew to become one of the biggest and the most evasive robbers of the country. He was never caught. Now lying on his death bed, he called his five sons. They were robbers too.

Sadashiv was always at the peak of his career and amassed a lot of wealth. The time had come to inherit to their sons. But Sadashiv had already told his sons that he would be giving his riches to only one, the one that was better than remaining four.

Every one of them had tried his level best to prove his mettle in the business of robbing. Everyone fared well, which only made it difficult for Sadashiv to decide on one. The old man did the unthinkable. On a piece of paper he wrote a message and passed it to his sons. A minute later, he took his last breath.

The message simply said,

Bob,
I know I’m going to die. Take care of my lucky cat.

Upon reading it, everyone, except the youngest, tore it and threw it away, for it didn’t make any sense to them, and thought that their father had gone crazy during his last days. One of them even vented out his anger: “His lucky cat died 5 years ago, and he wants us to take care of it now? And who the hell is Bob, anyway? Damn the old man.”

In spite of not knowing what the message said, the youngest son kept it. He was the only one who loved and respected his father very much. Ten years from now, the youngest son would be recruiting two young bright boys, and one of them would unfold the mystery of the last message given by the old man.

***

Most of them were sweating. It’s not that the AC wasn’t working, but the heat of tension had subjugated its cooling effect. None of them were in such a predicament before, for such a thing had never happened until then. They looked scared and helpless, but they didn’t look hopeful. They were almost convinced that the help wasn’t coming. The only two people that neither looked scared nor helpless were Mahesh and Rajneesh, because for them, hope lay in what was happening.

The job had to be done flawlessly. If anything went slightly wrong, they would end up in a big trouble and they very well knew it. They were inside the Bank of Baroda – one of the most prestigious banks.

Everyone in the Bank was held at gun point, except for Mahesh and Rajneesh, because they were the ones who held the guns.

15 minutes later, having executed their job perfectly, they were out of the bank. But what surprised the manager of the bank was that they were interested in only one locker, which had a small package. Apart from that they hadn’t taken a single rupee.

***

Shambunath, the leader of the gang was congratulating the young lads who had done the job for him. They were recently recruited and had shown lot of talent.

"So tell me Mahesh, how were you able to find out?" he asked.

Mahesh, an engineering college dropout, had unraveled the mystery of the message that Shambunath had got from his father ten years ago. He was carrying that slip of paper since then.

"well boss, your father was not telling about any lucky cat. But if you look closely some of the letters are italicized"

Shambunath took out the slip of paper once again from his shirt pocket. He had observed the italicized letters of course, but was never able to find out their significance. He observed again, carefully.

The message said:

BOB,
I know I’m going to die. Take care of my lucky CAT.

“Yeah, I know. What about them?”

“The italicized letters are: knooecrl. Right? Now if you just re-arrange those letters you’ll get ‘locker no,’” explained Mahesh.

The boss raised his eyebrows, leaned forward, and said, “Continue.”

“So now what’s the locker no? It’s CAT. It’s in capitals. See that? If you assign a number to each of the 26 alphabets in English, the value of CAT will be 3120. So it’s locker no. 3120.”

“Wow! Why didn’t I get it in all these years?! And the message was addressed to BOB, which of course is Bank of Baroda. I thought Bob was a person.”

He then patted the backs of the young lads and said, “You will be generously rewarded, my boys.”

***

Inspector Rajdeep Singh, lit a cigarette and took a drag.

"We have already told you. There wasn't anything in the package except for a watch and Rs. 2200" Rajneesh said taking out four 500 rupee note and two 100 rupee note.

"fine.. why are you digging then ground then?"

"Its nothing.. Really.."

The inspector butted out his cigarette, jumped into the pit, took the shovel and struck the ground, which again produced a sound. He looked up and stared at the two men. Having demonstrated his animosity towards their lies, he got out of the pit.

“Well, are you going to say what this is is all about? Or do you wish to go to prison?”

***

Mahesh was maddened by the injustice done to him and Rajneesh by their boss. The package they had stolen from the bank had only two things: a gold and diamond studded Patek Philippe watch with 18 complications, which was worth at least Rs. 30 lakhs. Apart from the watch there was Rs. 2200/-

Shambunath had kept the watch and given them Rs. 2200.

“Can’t even buy a decent pair of jeans with this,” Mahesh hollered when they reached home. Rajneesh didn’t try to appease him, as he very well knew it was not going to help.

Mahesh couldn’t sleep and kept on cursing his boss, but something struck him at around one in the night. He woke Rajneesh up.

“I think we have hit the jackpot.”

And when Mahesh explained what he had found out, Rajneesh shouted and screamed and danced and sang and clapped. That very moment they headed towards the grave yard – to dig through their way to riches.

Contd..

The Message! Part-2

Inspector Rajdeep singh was one of the most corrupt officials in the country. He had account of all the robbers in the town but never arrested them. He always used to take share from them, and leave them free giving warning. Word was out that two young men had robbed the bank early in the morning. When he went to the bank and asked around, it became clear to him that the robbers were Mahesh and Rajneesh. Since the moment he had found out, he had placed a constable near their house. When the constable called him up and said that they were headed somewhere in the middle of the night, he had asked him to follow. And now he had them.

"I'm pretty sure boss's father's property is hidden here." said mahesh

"how can you say that?"

"The old man not only wanted his able son to inherit watch, but also all his riches" he said

"But you said, there were only 2200 rupees in the package!" said the inspector baffled by the situation. A moment later he realized Mahesh was talking about the same money.

"I don't understand" said the inspector

Then Rajneesh gave the money to the inspector.

“An address is hidden there – address to here. This graveyard. This very grave,” said Mahesh, stamping his foot on the ground. The inspector crinkled his eyes.

“Hold these 500 rupee notes, and tell me what is NOT common between them.”

“Serial numbers?” asked the inspector.

“Damn right, you are. Serial numbers. I was a bit perplexed in the beginning. Why would the old man keep just Rs. 2200 in a locker? That too 6 mutilated notes! Then it got me thinking. Serial numbers!”

Mahesh paused for a moment and then continued.

“The serial numbers of 500 rupee notes are RST 030821, YST 011404, 4ST 180308 and 1ST 180523. Observe something?”

The inspector shook his head.

Mahesh continued. “Leave the series and observe only the numbers. Assign a letter of English to the first two numbers in each serial number. 03=C, 08=H, and 21=U. Next, 01=A, 14=N, 04=D. Then, 18=R, 03=C, 08=H. And finally, 18=R, 05=E, and 23=W. So, it’s CHU, AND, RCH, and REW. This is the order in which I held the notes. They didn’t make any sense to me then, but later on when I re-arranged them, I got “ANDREW CHURCH.”

“Go on,” said the inspector.

“Well, now observe the series. All the notes have the series ST. So, it has to be St. Andrew’s Church. Now which church exactly? There could be more than one. Now notice the very first letter or alphabet of the series: R, Y, 4 and 1. 1 and 4 give the values A and D. Again re-arrange the letters and you’ll get YARD. Graveyard! This is the only St. Andrew’s Church in the city, which has a graveyard.”

Silence reigned supreme again. None of the three spoke for the next few seconds.

“Phew! That’s some analysis. But how did you find out the exact grave?” asked the inspector.

“Look at those two 100 rupee notes. 0MN 101505 and 0MN 720096. They say MN JOE, 1972-1996. The first digit of the series, which is 0, has no value of course,” Mahesh finished explaining.

This was too much for the inspector to digest.

A minute later they picked up their shovel and pickaxe again, and dug until it became easier for them to lift the big metal box, which was buried for ten years or more.

Everyone took a deep breath and broke open the lock of the box.

“Let’s do it,” said Mahesh, and lifted the lid.

***

They were staring at the contents in mute amazement. There were two other small boxes. And when Mahesh opened them, their hearts skipped a beat. It took them almost 2 minutes to recuperate.

“How much is it worth?” asked Rajneesh, not taking his eyes off the contents.

“Minimum 30,” said the inspector.

“Lakhs?” asked Rajneesh innocently.

The inspector shook his head vigorously and said, “Crores, you moron.”

Finally, they decided to split it. The inspector demanded 50% of the share and got it. Mahesh and Rajneesh argued in the beginning, but they later agreed as they didn’t want to go to prison.

"Now, take your share and run as if you’ve never run before. And remember. Never come back,” said the inspector, packing his ‘precious’ little black bag.

Inspector Rajdeep Singh then turned and wended his way out of the graveyard.

“Damn it, man. Why the hell should he get so much?” Rajneesh was enraged.

“Keep still. We’ll figure out something soon.”

***

Few days later, Inspector Rajdeep Singh's house was robbed. Nothing was taken except that little black bag. The robbers perfectly knew about the bag’s whereabouts, because they had dealt with him many times in the past and knew how to think like him.

The inspector felt a raging thirst to kill the robbers. His ‘precious’ little black bag was gone. But what he didn’t know then was that it was just the beginning.

The next day, LokAyukta, the anti-government corruption organization of Karnataka, raided Inspector Singh's house. To his shock, the officials knew exactly where to search. They went straight to the bathroom, and pulled open the top shelf. And there it was; a small messenger bag, and in it were 20 lakh rupees in cash, a few biscuits of solid gold, and 2 small diamond stones. He was aghast. He hadn’t kept it. But he knew who had set him up. A week later he was given a permanent leave from his job.

***

Exactly one month later, Rajdeep Singh received an anonymous letter. It read:

Dear Singh,

In spite of all the dirty things you’ve done, we still think you deserve something.

So, here’s the code: 84748 843 7263 47283 24246.

Decipher it and get your share. Good luck!

P.S. If you don’t take it within 6 months from today, we’ll retrieve it back.

Yours sincerely,
MR

Forty-two attempts!

Well folks, I’m back with one more story. All characters and events depicted in this post are fictional, and any resemblance to persons living, dead, or fictional or situations past, present, or fictional is purely and completely coincidental.

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1.

All I can see is a white sheet of paper in front of me. For the first time ever, I was about to write a love letter. One hour had passed and I’m still not able to think anything. I never realized it could be such a Herculean task. Well, love stories never fascinated me on screen or in print. But it doesn’t mean that I cannot fall in love. And yes that’s what happened: I fell in love. But I never thought it’s after effects would be so tiresome and fatigued.

I never knew one day I would be sitting in front of my desk at night 1am and would be writing letter to my love Aarthi. When my friends used to write such things I used to say “That’s ridiculous”. But now I had to.

When I proposed to Aarthi, she flinched and asked me “What kind of proposal was that?” I thought I had done it in a romantic way, but later her expressions said it all. But now I’ve learnt my lesson. Let me tell you something, proposing a girl is like selling a product. Product should be good, if not, atleast packaging should be done neat and clean with lot of embellishments. Infact today Packaging is all that works. And of course, how you ‘sell’ your product is more important than the ‘product’ itself. But in my case, Product, packaging and selling were not good. Hence the question “What kind of proposal was that??”

“Uh... What else you expect me to do??” I had asked

“You come to me like a moron and say you love me, and you expect me to accept your proposal”? Just like that? “

“But Aarthi, I cannot do all those filmy things. It’s so yucky! Ok how about me getting you a Bourneville now?” I winked.

“Shut up! Ok atleast write me a love letter – on a sheet of paper.”

“What? Love letter? You must be kidding me. We are living in a digital world Aarthi, for heavens’ sake”

“Whatever, but I’m old fashioned you see.” She said and walked away smiling to herself.

I knew she was a pragmatic girl. But you see girl is a ‘girl’, a special kind of species with X chromosomes. That’s why all these nakhras. She was trying to be foolishly romantic. Anyways I had accepted the challenge. “You want me to write a love letter? Fine. It’s just a piece of cake on a piece of paper.” I had said to myself to boost my confidence.

2.

I saw the clock; it was half past one in the night. Blank sheet in front of me reflected the complete state of my mind. I went out to my balcony, and then came back. Threw my pen on the cot and got it back again. Went near the door and swiveled. Again came back to my table picking my pen up. I had to write it at any cost.

“Ok. Let’s do it!” I said that to no one in particular. Not even to myself. I was baffled and a confused soul.

“Dear Aarthi…” I wrote after five full minutes of contemplating.

“Goddamn it!” I cursed my self. “Dear Aarthi…” was way too formal. I crumpled the paper and threw it in the dustbin.

Then I thought “Dearest Aarthi…” and wrote it on the sheet of paper.

No way! Rule no 1: Never try too hard to please a girl. Be natural.

Then that sheet of paper too ended in the dustbin. I thought to myself and again wrote “Aarthi, my love”. Wasn’t that overly romantic? I didn’t really know. Without thinking much, I crumpled that paper and threw into the dustbin.

I was getting frustrated. Why don’t they accept the proposal just like that? I guess it’s one of the Rules of chicks ‘When a boy proposes to you, never accept it immediately’

Finally on a new sheet of paper I wrote, “My love”. This sounded better and I was finally convinced. Now I started writing the body of the letter.

“You are one of the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…” I stopped writing and analyzed the sentence. No ways! Sheela was more beautiful than Aarthi. Love letter should always be honest. So I threw the paper again.

I changed the whole format I wrote “Dearest, Its not that I think you are the most beautiful girl in this world. There are certainly many babes around, but whenever I see you or talk to you or simply be with you or hear your voice or look at those beautiful eyes and many other things I can’t mention, my mind attains its state of tranquility. You are not the girl of my dreams, but the girl of my life, my reality”

After all these attempts I felicitated myself “wah! Splendid!” But soon I got skeptical. “There are certainly many babes around...?” No. What was I thinking? This wasn’t working out right. I again crumpled the paper and threw into the dustbin, Lebron James type. Wohoo!! It was a two pointer.

Three hours passed and dustbin was filling up. None of the letter was worthy enough to make it inside envelope. Finally even the envelope ended in the dustbin. I knew she too had feelings for me. But even she couldn’t have helped it I guess. She was bound by the rules.

I had given up. No more of this love letter business. It’s not my cup of tea. Then, I threw all my paper in dustbin and cleared the table. I was in deep somnolence and started walking back to my bed.

Suddenly something flashed to my mind, and I did the Unthinkable.

3.

Next day I got message from Aarthi that she would be arriving to my room at 6pm. I combed my hair, wore cologne, my favorite t-shirt and jeans, and waited for her with curbed breath. I knew she was going to blast me. But it didn’t matter to me because, I had tried my best, and this is all I can do.

The previous day, I had mailed her a package. I had decorated it with lot of embellishments too. And in it, were all the crumpled balls of paper – the proof of my futile attempts to write her a love letter. That was my idea of telling her that I had tried my best. I think probably no boy in this world has ever tried to do as crazy as a thing like this. Now which boy wants his girl to read the trial versions of his love letter?! Well, I was an exception. This would go down in the history of love letter writing, I was sure. An example of what a boy shouldn’t do – should never do.

I was about to be proved wrong.

Aarthi came to my room and didn’t utter a single word. In my attempt to impress her I had forgotten to clean my room. Clothes, DVDs, CDs, empty beer bottles, etc. everything were thrown around. My room was at its filthiest best.

I picked up my clothes and made some space for her. Then I went to pick up empty beer bottles and she stopped me “That’s alright.”

We sat diagonally opposite to each other. I knew she was furious for what I did “Listen Aarthi, I’m really sorry for what I did. I couldn’t think straight. You know I’m very straight guy… Damn! Of course I’m straight. I mean writing love letter is not of my type you know. I tried my level best. I know I’m not romantic enough to.. “

"Who said you are not romantic?” she said, cutting me off.

“Huh??” I was flabbergasted.

“You know, if you had written a flowery love letter for me, I would have surely puked.” She said.

“But… but you said me to write one!”

“Well, I was curious to know of course. Even if you’d told me directly that you were not going to try it, I’d not have bothered”

I arched my brows, I crinkled my eyes, I frowned, I smirked, I scratched my head – I was utterly baffled.

She giggled.

“Hmm… so you read all those I sent you? Please tell me you didn’t.” I finally said thinking by sending that package I did a big mistake.

“Yes, I read all the forty-two attempts.” She said and laughed.

Oh damn! What have I done?!

She moved closer to me and said “You know what; when one writes a love letter, his true feelings are manifested on those papers that end up in a wastebasket. The final edition is always sugary, but unfortunately, it isn’t sweet. It’s just a vague attempt to impress the reader. A girl like me can easily look through it. I am fortunate to have known what you really feel about me,” she stopped for a moment and then continued, “And I don’t think you’ll ever be able say those things you desperately tried to say in those letters. I am perfectly ok with it,” she said, ruffling my hair.

I sat there speechless. She smiled. And what a smile it was! Her full scarlet lips broke into a beautiful curve as a twinkle came into her forget-me-not eyes. It was similar to seeing a red rose blooming on an early dew-filled morning

Then she gave a winsome smile and asked me “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

I struck a pose by cradling my chin with my thumb and forefinger, and said, “Well, is it necessary?”

“Well, I think not,” she said and gave me a wink.

******************** The end *************************

Escape from the Reality! (Part-1)

He could feel his heart beating. His hands were swithering as he could see nothing in front of him. He was standing at the edge of the Tippu Drop, Nandi Hills. The gushy air current hit his face and he could feel the death calling him. He had given all his hopes and had made up his mind to leave this wonderful world. He was just 20yrs like me and you. He was stranded in apathy and could envision the entire bad things happened to him recently. He knew his time had come. With shivering legs he moved his right leg forward... Suddenly he could hear a harsh voice coming from behind.

"Hey you! stop right there my son. What do you think you are doing?"

To his bewilderment he turned back and saw a man in his late 70's wearing a monkey cap covering his ears, baggy jeans, striped shirt which was bit torn here and there and worn out shoe.

"Stop right there old man! Don't you dare to come near me. I've decided not to live in this world anymore. You cannot stop me.. just go away."

"Alright Daksh. I'm not going to stop y0u. Why don't you procrastinate your suicidal attempt and talk to me for few minutes."

He was dumbfounded and his mind was thunderstruck.
"What the hell! How in this earth did you get to know my name?" awestruck Daksh asked the old man.

"Calm down my son. I know everyone's name is this world. I'm the one who created you." man said in his gentle voice.

"You think I'm gone mad here?? Someone just stops me before I jump and tells he is a god. Am I looking like a lunatic person to you?" said Daksh angrily.

Without raising his voice the man continued "Daksh, I'm lord Brahma. I'm the one who created mankind and this huge universe."

Daksh burst out laughing "hahaha.. Lord brahma??" pointing to him "Lord brahma in this attire with torn out baggy jeans?? hahaha.. now where are your other faces? Is it virtually hidden?"

Brahma without getting tempestuous "Son! Why do you believe what others say? Have you ever seen brahma with your naked eye before? People just assume things and write it. Can you show me evidence that brahma existed with four heads? Its all bullshit. Its me, the cool dude lord brahma!"

Daksh amused by brahma's words "wow! can't really believe. I'm really gonna become a maniac. hahaha.." his eyes rolled and sat there awestricken.

Brahma asked "Now Daksh tell me why were you trying something of this sort with your life? What made you do this?" with his eyebrows raised.

"I don't know. I mean there's lot of things which are frustrating me. This sick society, Corrupted politicians, frauds, cheaters, and beguilers. Last week I had participated in University level Debate competition. I had given my best shot and was well appreciated too. But the prize went to the college who hosted this event. I had seen that guy's performance, he was stammering a lot and didn't even deserve a prize. Judges, prize.. oh god.. everything is fixed and rigged up. I attended a placement interview and everyone were quite impressed the way I handled the proceedings. But later, voila! 'better luck next time'.. this is what I got. The girl whom I loved so much betrayed me. Politicians are corrupted, everyone thinks for their own benefit, I hate my country. This is not going to change or rather no is going to change. I can never sustain in this society with dignity. Even my kids might end up one day being a terrorist. I want to end here itself." Daksh with his disgruntled voice, threw a stone and started to weep.

Brahma said "Son, Come out of your misconceptions. Don't blame the society or politicians or people, blame yourself. You cannot change the things around you. Even if you become president or prime minister, you cannot fully change the minds of people. The change should be within you. First you should change and start thinking positively. You should spread the positive energy among everyone. Isn't there any single thing which has made you happy with your life? Aren't there any moments you would like to cherish every moment?? Have you thought about your mom and dad? They love you each and every single moment."

Daksh stopped him "Its not about me. I cannot survive in this bought, debased, corrupted and profaned community. May be I'm not suitable for this world. My intellectuals are completely different. huh!" sighed.

"This is the balance of nature. Good and Bad co-exist. You've to experience everything in your life the way it comes. Death should come in search of you. You shouldn't be going in search of death. Wake up my son, there is lot to achieve in this world for you. Okay, I know what you are still thinking. Just close your eyes." brahma said this and started muttering something.

contd...

Escape from the Reality! (Part-2)

Now Daksh wakes up from his bed with strange and unusual feeling. He switches on the TV. The main headlines on Television was 'Osama Bin Laden surrendered'. He was in a state of shock. The world was completely changed. All the politicians who had black money in their swiss accounts just revealed it and gave all the money to the government. Rivalary between India-Pak had ended and now they've become bhai-bhai. Terrorism is completely deracinated and extirpated. There was no job for soldiers as peace prevailed everywhere and they were sent back home. All criminals surrendered and their heart had become pure. There was no need of police in the society. All the wepon industry were shut down. No more nuclear reactors and wepons. The economy of the country decreased drastically. Government of few countries had lot of money didn't know where to spend, so for each citezen they paid some amount every month. It was sufficient enough for few people and they never went for the job. The situation had become so lethargic. There was no competation amongst the people. Most of the schools and colleges were shut down. They couldn't find people who can come forward and drive bus on street.

Daksh couldn't bear this anymore. He shouted closing his ears and eyes. He just wanted to get out of there. When he opened his eyes, Brahma was standing before him.

"What the hell is going on? I mean why all the bad people became good? I'm not understanding. Can you educate me?" Daksh asked thwartingly.

"This is what you needed right? A place without corruption. A place where there's no fraud happening, everyone are good, no more imposters. This must have been an utopia for you. Wasn't it my son?" said brahma with a smirk.

Daksh Just collapsed there dumbstruk and flummoxed. He didn't know what to say. His mind was boggling with random thoughts.

Brahma contiued "Son, there is something which you must know. You will never get what you expect. If you want something, you've to create it. The good and bad is in your hands. If you create good, there is someone who will create exactly opposite of it. Rather than expecting from the world, its you who have to contribute for the global prosperity and integrity. Blaming others for your failure makes you a loser. You've to live with it son, that's life! If you run away do you think anything is going to change? It doesnt' matter if you don't believe in me, but believe yourself. You can try, but you can't escape, from this world, from yourself, from the real truth. Now that you are dragged into this game, DEAL with it, in your own style. Live and let live."

Brahma gave a big hug to Daksh and vanished. Daksh stood there, marveling at what he had just heard and experienced. As silence sang in the air, a small gust of cool breeze caressed his face. He looked at the night sky which was covered with a blanket of darkness. But it didn't matter him anymore, as he had found the light.

**********************************

Movie Clichés!

Are you a movie freak? If so, you would have experienced the same, what I'll be penning down now. I've been watching lot of kannada and hindi movies lately and this is what I learnt from it.

Before I start, statutory warning for all the readers.

"WATCHING EXCESS KANNADA AND HINDI MOVIES IS INJURIOUS AND NOXIOUS TO THE MENTAL AND PHYSICAL HEALTH".

1. If there is a sewing machine in someone’s house, it means they are poor. There is always an unmarried sister or a sick mother in the house.

2. If a woman is walking alone in a white saree and there is fog around her, she is a ghost.

3. If a woman has green eyes, she is actually a snake.

4. If a rich girl and a poor boy meet, they will definitely fall in love and eventually get married. Or else, they will suicide.

5. Two people can’t just play snooker without anything significant happening. A cunning scheme has to be plotted, or an argument must take place, usually about ethics or morals. If a person pots a ball, he is usually the winner of the argument. Or he is the one who comes up with the cunning plan.

6. If you see the feet of a little boy who is running in the first scene, he is going to grow up soon. And he usually runs to Bombay, or any other city to earn his living. And soon after that, he becomes filthy rich.

7. If someone has a drink, their speech becomes slurred and boisterous. They drive dangerously or end up getting beaten up. No one in a movie can have a drink without getting absolutely plastered. Even a sip of diluted breezer is enough to reduce the heroine to an incoherent burbling mess at a party where she would subsequently become an embarrassment to her father or husband, who would then give her mute, constipated looks of anger as she is singing in a slutty voice, usually with the cleavage showing. There is no other way a woman can have a drink

8. No one dies or gets hospitalized during a song. They show hero or heroin slightly drifting towards the sky showing all kinds of feelings and suddenly they land up near the opposite sex.

9. If a girl and a boy sing a song at the age of 5 and suppose they get separated, they will remember that tune until they turn 25. And their destiny is always scripted. That girl will definitely meet that boy and fall in love or get married.

10. If it rains when two people are walking, there is no way they cannot fall in love with each other.

11. There are no traffic signals in car chases. No one runs out of fuel.

12. Right after the hero rescues a girl after a rape attempt, he will either make her his girlfriend or his sister - depends on how hot she is.

13. Always, first hero falls for the trap of villain. He get beaten up and still he manages to kick some 20 butts. But the villains get enervated by just a single punch.

14. No matter how the twist in the story is, heroin always gets kidnapped by the villains. They use her as trump card, so that hero comes for the rescue.

15. 10 people shoot the hero, but still he manages to escape the raining of bullets. But the hero shoots only one bullet to each villain and bang!! He is a dead person..

Can you think of some more clichés? If so, write it in the comment box. This post is meant for educational and humor purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

********************

The Dark Secret Revealed!

It all started on the day when I had a small brown ball (almost a ball) of certain thickness in my hand. It was bit sticky and slightly elastic. 20 seconds into it and a suffocating quantity of highly corrosive and potentially pathogenic fluid starts to pour out of every available orifice. Fluid surrounds the material, and the upper part of the material etches away. Now the thickness of the material gets reduced for every 10seconds by a micron. This rate increases exponentially, and the old fluid gets replenished by a new fluid.

The old fluid drains out and remains are left in the chamber sorroundings. The new rejuvenated and fervent fluid can never fill the chamber because, the rate of old fluid draining out is faster than the newly generated ecstatic fluid. By this time only one half of the material will be etched. Its now time to drain the fluid, and flip the material over.

Now the process of draining out continues for a while and finally when the enough material get etched out, the dark, smooth, mellifluous, and bitter paste oozes out. This un-fermented paste is located in the core region of the material. Without etching the material, this region cannot be accessed. This new paste has to be sucked by creating low pressure region in the inner depths of the chamber.

The fluid, excited by the fresh oozing goo, helps initiate and hasten the flow of the thick paste. It helps by slowly dissolving the paste, making it a liquid and again raises the buds on the floor of the chamber.

Now the etched material gets reflected from the chambers and finally it gets crushed. The remains are drained out and certain materials raise certain buds while some other materials raise some other buds.

With this material, the buds at the front tip are raised and they pick up the dissolved material. The buds reach their highest peak when the goo oozes out and that's when you realize you have just a few more seconds before your chocolate completely melts in your mouth.

This is how a jobless freak describes the way he eats his chocoliebe.

Lost..

I felt stranded in the ocean
Waves lashing by,
Reflecting the nauseating sun
With Davy Jones’s chest calling me
With the lonely islands beckoning for company

This way or that
Where to go??

Here, there or nowhere
The world’s a big sphere – no corners, no ends

I'm Marooned with Jack Sparrow's Compass!

I walk the path –A path created
Or should I take a path unknown – a path I create
The path of forks, twists, turns and bends..

Obstacles plenty trip me down
Raging mountains and clouding forests
Evil forces of darkness found

Too much to listen

Too much to see

Baffled by the alternatives

I look at the senseless logic...trying to create sense

hope I'm followed by an albatross!

O! Mighty one
Let the lights on – the fire alight
Let the path glow
Shining through the forests
Lest there be darkness and puzzled faces
Wondering just where to go?
All lost in this world of yours…

Reminiscence of my life!

My mom came to me and said "chinnu..huttidhabbake hosa batte yavaga togothyo?(When are you going to buy new clothes for your birthday)" As soon as I heard the word "huttidhabba(birthday)" my mind started rambling and all my past memories just flashed into me. My birthday is on 17th of January, and just 7 days of 'teen' life is left. Over the past 10 years, birthdays have not been a special occasion, as it used to be when I was a toddler.

I remember as a child, my birthday used to be a special ocassion with new set of clothes and shoes to wear, mom's special delicacies to feed on and lots and lots of gifts. I used to get good amount of money as well to which used to make my piggy bank heavier. Coloured balloons decorating the hall, Mickey Mouse shaped(almost) cake, colourful candles, varities of food and my mom used to make "Vermicelli Kheer" which is my all time favorite. There used to be entire gang of bachcha party singing the birthday jingle. When I close my eyes, I recall happiest days of my life as child. Those were the days of innocence, fun and frolic. I still remember, the whole gang of my friends used to form like a train and run all over the house, and I used to be the engine. 20 years ago, a baby boy was escorted into the world, crying loud enough for a deaf man to get a pair of earmuffs lest his eardrums go tattered. After all it’s the mom's job to tell me that unless I kept quiet gumma barthe.

(from right, 2nd one)

As months rolled, I grew up into a normal kid, who thought thumb is god given candy, so I hogged on it. I used to toddle all around the drawing room, and finally end up sitting on the lap of my granny. It was one of the wierdest experience when my mom put a frock to me and took the snap. I guess at that time, I didn't know it was girl's clothes and I enjoyed wearing it. If you are wondering from where did frock come, it was my sister's. Even she helped my mom in dressing me. duh! As the days passed by a young toddler turned into a naughty lad who used to take pleasure in destructing any random object available. Any new item brought to me, never sustained for more than two days and that saga continues even today. My mom still scolds me, "neenu haLmadakke huttirodu(you are born only for causing damage)"

I spent next phase of my life in Bombay. My dad used to work in Kalyan, and there was a play ground next to my apartment. I can speak Hindi quite well, so I managed to get some good number of friends over there. The general timepass would be flying kites and playing high catches. I used to make Kite myself and with that I used to make it fly higher than any others. At that time, tennis ball wasn't a huge hit, but rubber ball was! Always I used to lose that rubber ball and ask my dad Rs.6 for buying a new one. One fine afternoon, when me and my friends were playing high catches, the ball fell into a huge sewage river which used to flow next to the ground. I made a brave attempt to get inside that and my whole body was covered with @#$%&*. Even after herculean effort, I couldn't take the ball out of it as my hand wasn't reaching it. That evening, it was just spankings from my mom. Getting into local trains in bombay is like getting gold medal in olympics. It was just pushing and pulling. Sometimes if you stand amidst the crowd, they automatically make you get into the train. I was very much fascinated by these acts and one day unknowingly I left my apartment and went to Railway Station alone which was at a walkable distance. At that time, I guess my age was 7yrs. Red colour train was more fascinating and I just went in and sat inside. Didn't even know what I was doing and where that train was going to. All thanks to almighty, my dad somehow guessed that I would be in railway station and after asking all the people and searching the whole platfrom, they found me. I still imagine what would be my position today if that train had left? what if my dad never found me? where would I be today? When I think this, it fears me even today. Well, its all past now and I thank the great almighty for staying with me always.

(from right, 2nd one)

After returning from Bombay, my life was just plain and simple. Used to go to trip yearly and spend most of the time slogging hard for getting good rank(never got though). Then two years of my college life went in vain studying for entrance exams. I couldn't clear any of those and finally ended somehow in BNMIT. Now I'm in pre-final year and next year I'm going to pass out and hopefully become more responsible. On 17th I turn 20, and I wish I could carry myself back to those fun filled days when having fun was more important than feeding the ego, grandfather's stories which was much more scarier than our assignments and exams, when dad’s shoulders were the highest place in the world, the annual visits to the circus/zoos. While I jotted these memories, I clutched my childhood close and left the chaotic present for a while only to realize that we cant get back what we have already passed.