Just another scribble...

I scribble a lot. On notepads, desks, blackboards, any clean space for that matter. Most of them don’t make sense often. I was punished (had to stand facing the wall for half and hour :) ) couple of times, for scribbling on the wall. You’re probably saying “been there, done that” right now. Anyways, this is something I had scribbled away, on a napkin, that I recently found, at a CCD (Café Coffee Day), in the city of Bangalore, once upon a time…

U brought me to my knees,
u gave me wings,
a feeling like never before,
fortified by the warmth of sunshine.

memories haunt me day and night,
days begin and end with you.
a constant search prevails,
for that call, message or sign.

unfazed by what happens,
a madness takes over,
blinds me. I see now,
what went wrong,
but I question its worth.

that one smile,
that one touch,
that one kiss,
the one sentence,
a second, a lifetime lived,
every single time, always.


-Madhan

I wish i didn't remember

MORAL DISCALIMER: Doing drugs is uncool. Doing someone, isn't.
What i've written is a result of boredom. Replicating events
mentioned below would probably get you in jail, or worse still,
in hell.

STATUTORY WARNING :Contains profanity and Mary Jane.


9:30 pm
A girl in her early twenties opened the door. Dressed, in a white sleeveless shirt and denim jeans, she was unmistakably pretty. Had I not met her before, I wouldn’t have guessed that she was from Kerala. Guessing her ethnicity was as difficult as guessing that John Abraham was half malayalee.
“Hi Madhan, come in.” she spoke with a husky voice, the one that causes butterflies to flutter in you.
As, I entered the doorway, past the husky sounding keralite, into the drawing room, I was greeted by smoke. But strangely, it didn’t bother me.
“Varoo kanna, varoo (come kiddo, come)” said Suraj, my colleague from work. A typical mallu who lived life large. I envied him with all my heart. I had always envied malabaris like him. Another one in college, whose name meant the same as Suraj. He was sitting beside another girl whom I hadn’t seen before. Probably a friend of Meera, the one who opened the door.
“Vaa (come), we’ve been waiting for you man. What took you so long?”
“I was busy. Had some work.” I lied. I didn’t want them to know that I was just spending time in my own misery.
“Madhan, you should have come with us to Fusion. It was great fun.” said Meera, as she grabbed my hand and led me to sit between her and the other girl. “Here, meet my friend, Dia. Dia, this is Madhan.”
We shook hands. I couldn’t help but notice her eyes. They were sunk in their deep and dark sockets. As though she hadn’t slept in ages. She had a beautiful face, and beautiful skin. Perhaps, in a different place, at a different time, she would have been a head turner.
The setup was simple, two beds, were adjoined to each other. Couple of newspapers were spread out. An ashtray rest in the centre of the newspaper. Judging by the bottle of signature on the floor, and the smoke in the room, I figured that the three had been drinking whisky and smoking joints.
“Here you go” said Meera as she handed me a large and a joint.

Many rounds later…
“Kaunsa number hai Madhan? Kuch yaad hai?” asked Dia.
“Fuck, who cares re..” I replied, as the fumes escaped my nostrils, to form another face of Mary Jane hovering above Dia’s head. It had been hours since I smoked my first joint. I passed the chillum to Dia. “I’m beat guys, I feel so freakinn lazy.” It was true. I was too lazy to lift my head off Dia’s lap. She didn’t seem to mind it anyways. Girls, I thought to myself, they can be the sweetest creatures at times. Dia was, I don’t know, I had never been with a girl like her before. I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she really was. I loved the way the smoke escaped her lips, slow and sexy. I was turned on, even in that intoxicated state, the horny bastard that I was. Suddenly she glanced down at me.
“Dude, stop checking me out!”
“Why, does it bother you?”
“Hell, yes. It’s like you’re eyes are some smoky x ray machine or something.”
“Dia, you know, you are very sexy, but in a beautiful way. Had I not been so fucking beat in your lap, I would have kissed you.”
“What makes u think I would have let you to.”
“Cos I’m one helluva kisser and am sure you’re one too.” I replied barely even looking at her.
Later, I realized I shouldn’t have said that. We shouldn’t have gotten so close. It was wrong on my part.

1:00 am
I couldn’t button my shirt. The buttons were ripped out. I wanted to leave, I wanted to run away as fast as possible. Dia was shouting at me. “What happened dude? Are u going to tell me or not?”
Boy, she didn’t look that good now. I was thirsty. I wanted water. There was none. I gulped down some red bull. Suraj was asking me not to go, but he was too lazy to stop me. I opened the door, Just then Dia pulled me by the arm.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know, I have to go.”
“Like this?? This is not good”
“No, this is fine. Don't care about me. I’m going, let me go.”
She then moved closer, her left hand on my face. I looked away and pulled myself away, opened the door and stepped out.
“None of this happened. All this is crap. I need some oxygen, I don’t want to hurt you Dia. Goodnight.” That was the last I said before heading out into the dark night hearing Dia scream something about me being a fucking prick. Slowly her voice faded away, as I approached the street lights.

“Men reveal what they think when they look away, and what they feel when they hesitate. With women, it’s the other way around."
-fromGregory David Roberts, Shantaram

Why long distance relationships rock.

Neil, are you sure? Don’t you think you’re moving a little too fast? I mean commitment, and the whole long distance thing... man, they kind of suck you in, like a black hole.
Neil, my friend of 10 years turned around and faced me. Neither of us had realized when things had come to this.
“Madhan, I’ll give you three reasons, why I think my long distance relationship will work, in fact why it’s going to rock.

1.We love each other. I mean it. Sometimes, what we share amazes me. No, don’t look at me like that man. You would probably understand it at some point of time. You’ll feel it in you, and it feels like heaven.”
Unable to see the point he was making I waved it off. “Whatever man! None of that made sense to me, so NEXT!”

“2. it’s meant to be so, dude. It’s like a curtain raiser for the next step. You really can’t ignore it. It’s an important leg of the big journey called love which is a part of the even bigger journey called life.”
“Whoa! Oh k Mr. Alchemist. Lets, for a second, think about this journey. There are bound to be problems. What’s going to happen then? Now don’t get excited. I’m not saying you guys will break up or anything, but there are just too many issues, that need to be considered.”
“Like what?”
“Like... I don’t know... ok how about staying in touch?”
He gave a smile, the ones you give, when you’re asked the lamest question in the universe, “Mobile phone, e-mail, gtalk, skype, orkut... dude you are so not web 2.0”
“Alright, let’s look at this your way. In this “journey” of yours, what if you face a puncture? Or what if you both run out of fuel? What if you get lost in a desert, where there is no green grass, no blue lakes, just strong, hot, sandstorms. What would you do then? Do you see it now? I mean, do you have a guarantee or something??”

Neil looked at me. His face told it all. It was calm, not nervous as some would be, as mine would be. It was a solemn look. One of determination and confidence. Was he expecting this question? If not, then why did his answer seem to be one that had been rehearsed a hundred times in front of the mirror? Why did it feel right?
“Have you heard of oases Madhan? They are like small glimpses of heaven for a traveller stranded in a desert. They say, one finds an oasis only in dire times of need. And dude, you forget that deserts are nothing but reservoirs of fuel. I just need to know where to dig, where to search. Madhan, stop thinking of life as a shopping mall, where I can ask for a replacement, or where I can opt for a money back offer. Life isn’t complicated at all. It’s just how we make it out to be.”

“And point three is, I LOVE this woman yaar. I feel super amazing with her. It’s not about whether we can make it through or not. It feels right. I mean, we are totally mad about each other and perhaps, I don’t know, but maybe she’s the one. Dude, I tell you, meeting her was fate and becoming her friend was destiny, but falling in love with her, that’s something I had no control over.”

I stared at him. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t prepared myself for the conversation to turn this way. “Neil, you really love her, don’t you?”
“I do, and I’ve never been this sure about anything else in my life.”
I smiled, thinking about what he had just told me. “I guess, I envy you man. I envy you both. God bless you.”


“Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end that’s all there is: love and its duty, sorrow and its truth. In the end that’s all we have - to hold on tight until the dawn”
--from Gregory David Robert’s Shantaram

A drive down memory lane

8:30 am, NH 7— I had been waiting, since the past 15 minutes, carrying a black bag and waving my arms like a traffic policeman, in an attempt to stop almost anything on wheels for a lift. I thought about my boss, who was probably going to blow her head off, when I reach. But then, who cares. They knew I was underpaid. Just then, a car slowed down near me. The man behind the wheel, a spectacled, pot bellied fellow, spoke with a dash of an accent that seemed to be something between British and Australian “Need a lift my friend?”

I acknowledged him, by nodding my head and hopping in the passenger seat beside that of the driver. “Thanks a lot. It would be great if you could drop me near the fly-over.” I said, meaning it.

The driver, someone in his late twenties, asked without looking up from the wheel “Where are you headed to by the way?”

“Marathalli. Would be going there by any chance?” I asked, as I strapped in the seat belt. I hoped that he was, as it would save me a lot of time and money, if he would drop me till office.

He glanced at me through his dark spectacles and replied “Yea, I am…. Say, are you from NIT Durgapur, by any chance?”

Now, this was one of those moments I always dreaded, ever since I left college. I had found out, that I was pathetic at remembering names. I was always left embarrassed, as I proved to my batch mates, that I had forgotten their names in a year. It’s not that I had never spoken to them back in college, but somehow, I seemed to have forgotten many faces and most names. Though somehow, I felt, he wasn’t one of them. He seemed too old to be my batch mate. As I tried to remember, I replied, “Yes, I am… are you?”

“Yup, you’re a mallu right??” came the next question.

“Yea!... ok, I’m terribly sorry, I’m just not able to place u in my head, have we met before?” I asked trying to sound least embarrassed as possible.

“I passed out in 2005” replied the mysterious pot bellied driver. “I was in the thambi family”

Then, the realization hit me. “Whoa, wait a sec, I remember you, you’re… Biju, final year thambi!!!”

“No, actually I’m Varun, but it’s ok, at least you recognized me. But, I’m sorry I’m not too good with names, I just don’t seem able to recall your name.”

“I’m madhan, man, Varun, you’ve changed. Wow…. how have you been?”

“Ah, yes, Madhan, right, right. I’m good. Was in UK for sometime now. Just returned 2 days ago. How are you? Are you in touch with any one else?”

“I’m fine.. Yea, in touch with couple of guys….”

And then yours truly and his new found friend talked about how much has changed over the past 4 years. We caught up on, who was doing whom and who was doing what and where, profs., reunions, and the usual college nostalgia. The half-an-hour drive was far different from my daily office rides in BMTC volvo.
As we neared my destination, Varun turned to me, and said. “Hey Madhan , listen… about what happened back in college. That was just ragging. I know you must have forgotten it already, but I want to say sorry for slapping you then.”

Now, after 4 years, Those 301 technical advice (that’s what slaps were called then) I had received, and with this sudden mention, the hard and bloody ones flashed in my mind together, almost at once. I remembered his. It was, what the seniors called, a “squash shot”. It had been hard, so hard, that I nearly fell down. I had decided for vengeance then.

“Hey, no issues man. You’re right I had forgotten it. And besides, that was 5 years ago, chill maadi.” I replied with a smile so fake, that even Mona Lisa would envy it.

“Yea right! Good seeing you again bro! Here, take my number, we should stay in touch. Keep me informed, the next time there’s a reunion ok..?”

“Yea, I will.. you do the same too. Hey, that’s my stop.” I pointed out. I got out of the car, and closed the door behind me. “Thanks Varun, was great meeting you man”

“Yea, you take care..”
I paused for a minute, and then said “Hey, there’s something, you gotta know. Remember that day, when u asked me to refill the water bottles?
Varun laughed.“No, not really… I think you’ve refilled couple of times. I guess I have asked you to bring me food, couple of times too. That’s what you junis did back then, serve us” said Varun, with a silly smirk.

“Yea.. right, about that, I spat in them.”
The laughter was cut short.
“And perhaps, in the food too, not every single time though.”

What followed was an awkward silence, and puzzled expressions on either faces. I had to break it.
“So, great meeting up huh? We should meet up sometime, you know ,for drinks…and food too Take care alright.” I tried to manage a clean goodbye before I did any more damage.
“Yea, I guess I have to now, enjoy” Varun replied, slowly recovering from what he had heard. He started the car, we waved, and off he sped off.

As I walked into the building, I thought about how crazy the whole of 1st year had been, especially ragging period. Proposals, dancing, fundae, MR, my final years. I remembered what I had told my friends before entering the room before MR.
“Tonight is the end of our misery, tonight is our freedom night. This is that part of our lives, that never existed. None of us would ever want to remember what happens behind this door. Bleed we will, but if lucky, we won’t be deaf, when we enter hall 9 again. So all the best my friends, all the best for Hell.”

A smile escaped my lips. Yea, 1st year was crazy. I was crazy, to once think, that I would never want to see my seniors, ever again.
Just then, I received a sms. It was from Varun, and it was a smiley. :)

It's never over

It's over.I think I’m done with this all. I don’t want to return to it ever again. Even if I want to, I can’t, so probably I won’t. It’s not an easy task. There are things in life that I would give and have perhaps given 100% to. Things, phases, moments that assure me positive returns. But then, why is it that I come back to some things, memories, tasks, later on, even when I’m fully aware that there is no assured gift involved. Why is it that what goes round, comes around?
They say, some relationships are no strings attached. But does such a bond (ironical isn’t it?) really exist?

Love, ex--> it’s over. But some special moments, emotions and feelings cannot be replaced, ever. Some believe they have lost it. What’s sad is, these feelings come back so many a time, perhaps with more strength, but we often refuse to accept them, often in the fear or being hurt, thereby hurting us and others.

First job--> Sucked BIG TIME, but nevertheless, the first break. While in the blues, we take motivation from how we survived then.

First fight-->got hurt, beaten, and fought back. Memory of the first slap always remains.

Sex--> Mostly it gets better, some times worse, but nothing like the first time. Often regarded as the perfect “no strings” relationship. Unfortunately, science says, emotions always exist, no matter how frozen one is (both emotionally and in bed).
Why is it that, we always return to something (consciously or unconsciously), we thought we had left for good. Question is, when is it, that we actually move on. How do we know it’s over, la fin!?

There is but of course one answer to this all, (perhaps another reason, in my friend’s words)

Everything will be ok in the end. If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.

And with that I “return” to another one of my complicated relationships, my blog, Bangalore Blues...


Seen on someone’s status message: Life is like a Negro’s left a*se. It ain’t fair, it ain’t right.

A revival of hope, love and life

It’s amazing what the combination of wind, music and sunlight, in perfect proportions can do when you’re feeling the blues. I was feeling it; The Bangalore Blues. :P I was in a pathetic state. So pathetic that, the sun annoyed me. I hated the rain. I felt cold, isolated, and downright hopeless. I wanted to yell, wanted to fight, I wanted to freakkinnn shoot someone!! 1 week has gone by. What’s happened in this one week? Absolutely nothing at all. The situations are still the same. The past week has been nothing short of an emotional attyachaar. I wanted to smoke, drink, and run. I wanted to take it all out on my body. That way no one would get hurt. Heck even the gym was locked (some crazy theory by the society president). I didn’t know what to do. I blogged, I wanted my friends. I longed for those meetings I had attended way back in 3rd year, on those moonlit nights, on top of the hall 1 mess. (Tippu named us the Priory of Sion!! I thought it was more like the hopeless army of the hopeless Sultan!!). To think, I used to walk all the way from hall 4, to discuss, brainstorm, and find solutions to the problem at hand. We never found the perfect solution. But I do cherish those terrace talks and those midnight walks. I missed you guys then. I wanted to talk to someone. My BIG roomie, came forward, tried. I appreciate him for that. But there are some things that you only feel like telling your best friends. Man I was hopeless…

Then, Alok called (A godsend). We spoke and spoke. I don’t know for how long. But every minute was worth it. It was exactly what I wanted. Not a bucket load of advice on my life or my love life, but…heck, I don’t even remember what we spoke. But that did the trick. It set the wheels in motion, although I was unaware then. Thanks a lot dude!

I now sit, on my terrace, listening to Coldplay-the scientist, as the wind blows in my face. It’s so powerful and good that I don’t wish to run away anymore. I stand on the parapet and face the wind. The blues are blow away into the blue sky. There is something refreshing about the air today. That’s when I realize how silly I was. I see the light. A revival, of hope, love & life. I’m doing great. I feel great. Everything seems so right. Heck, I even feel India will win the T20 World Cup again!! Nothing can go wrong, nothing should, and nothing would. I look up from my laptop. The sun is shining and then I realize, I love my sunshine. ;)


P.S: A special thanks for all you wonderful people who still read my blogs, no matter how annoying, confusing or silly they are. Thanks for personally coming up to me and telling me what you liked and what you thought. Thanks a lot!

Have fun!

Life aint a love story

STATUTORY WARNING: Contains profanity and ethical hedonism

It’s like those days, when u feel something pathetic is in the air. It’s like those days, when u feel nothing is working out the way you want. You’re addicted to it, its consuming you even though you’re breathing the air in. Consciously, you know you’re killing yourself softly, but its way out of your control. It’s your brand of heroin, yours and yours only.

Some fight over, what to call it by. Some ponder over its necessity in one's life. There's no consensus though. Lives have been lost over it. I will lose mine, you will lose yours too. There are those, who go through it so many a time, always ending up beaten, lost and hurt.

Aware of it all, why is it that we still crave for it, deep inside (if not openly), in the darkest places of our heart, for that 1 drop of, poison, drug, passion, madness?

There are times, when the human mind is certain, about what it wants and what’s good for it. I say at times, because more often than not, the decisions we make, regardless of right or wrong, are made on a sub conscious level. I think a lot, too much actually. I didn’t think twice this time, I knew what I wanted, and I fought for it. There were signs all around me. Signs which worked against me. Paulo Coelho, you were wrong. The world wasn’t helping me to attain what I wanted. At every step, every move of mine, I was thrashed down. My strengths amazed me, such madness, such will power, I kept moving forward. These are times when u need your friends the most. Fuck, they couldn’t reach me. Some who could, said it’s a lost battle, said I’ll be burned down. Hell, they didn’t know shit! Fuck them!!

to be contd...

Judgments would be made, over the words written above. Mis-interpretations galore... I open up the space to hear everyone out... for it is you to whom I look up for guidance... For I have to keep my head steady, before I’m consumed in this labyrinth to eternal bliss...

P.S: Telling any of your friend to fuck off is uncool...l am sorry.