“Jay, will you put that thing down?”

It was Nirali. She was pretty frustrated at Jayson. It was not just the fact that it was his birthday today and he wasn’t treating them but it was his surprisingly, new obsession of his new i-Pod that his dad had gifted him. He was so hooked on to that sleek, little gadget that he would keep the ear hones plugged in, even when he was talking. That sometimes made him shout whatever he says because he can’t hear anything when he’s listening to 'loud, harsh noise’, considering his music taste.

Nirali was mad at him for not showing any major interest whatsoever in her. Ever since she got to know him, she had been secretly liking him. No one else in the group had any idea about it, except Meha, her best friend.

Meha was the one who introduced Jayson to Nirali. Meha was the ever-bubbly kind of girl who is always ever-interested in any thing or event that’s going on and ever-possessive about her guy, Abhishek.

Abhi is the guy who would do anything for his friends. Anything. Jayson and he were buddies since childhood. They spent their schooling and junior college days together and now in the degree college too. They met Nimish when they started college.

Nimish is the ‘wannabe’ type of a guy, who is forever on a quest for a girlfriend and that’s the reason he would always try his chance on Shreya.

Shreya is the ‘hot chick’ of the group. No one actually remembered how she became to be a part of them, but they never complained about being seen with her. She knew, at least ‘just knew’, everyone in the college.

Jayson looked up, making a grunt and removing his ear-plugs out he asked, “What?” Nirali said, “You’ve been listening to that shit since morning. Come on, just keep it inside and let’s have fun. It’s your birthday after all.” Abhi added. “Yeah dude, just shove it in your bag and let’s go somewhere.” Meha was already excited, “Yeah. By the way, where are you treating us?” Jayson raised his hands up high and said, “Guys, I ain’t got much dough on me now. I got some 500 bucks on me, that’s it.” Abhi put his arm around him and aid, “Dude, that’s ok. I’ve got a grand and a half with me. You give me later when you have it. Alright? Chill. So, where are you treating us now?” Jay asked, “Alright, where do you guys wanna go?” Nimish asked Shreya, “Hey, where do you wanna go? Suggest some good place.” Everyone looked at him in surprise and the Jay asked him, “Why do you just want to ask her, huh? Bastard. You won’t leave a single chance, will you? Anyways guys, how about going to TOTOS? We can just sit there and have some nice booze.” Nirali cut in, “Jay. I don’t drink, remember? On top if that Meha too is trying to quit it. We can go to CO’s. Those who want to drink can gulp down and the others can have some fun time too.” Shreya spoke for the first time, “That’s cool. Haven’t been there in quite some time now.” Abhi said, “That’s done man. CO’s it is.”

Meha pain for her juice and then they left the college canteen. They reached the station and had to wait for Shreya to buy her ticket. She had to buy a first class ticket because it was that peak time of the evening when the trains are jam packed. One can find just about some standing space and some fresh air to breathe only in the first class compartments. The others too had first class passes. They boarded the train at Charni Road, so they found some empty seats to sit down. Meha sat next to the window with her guy next to her. Jay sat next to him. Nirali was in front of Meha. She sat there first thinking Jay would sit next to her, but instead it was Nimish. He sat there so that Shreya was next to him. Jay had already submerged himself back into his music. This time it was Meha who noticed it and shouted, “Will you throw that thing away? Abhi, tell him to put that thing down. It’s so boring. Lets do something fun. We’ll play something. Ok listen. We’ll ask a question and everybody has to answer it. Alright?” By the time she finished speaking; Abhi had told Jay to put the i-Pod in then said, “Alright. Jay, ask the question.” Jay was surprised, “Who me?” “Then who else? You are the birthday boy today.” Nirali said smiling. Jay raised his left eyebrow up and after doing some thinking, said, “Ok. What would be the 2 things you want to do before you die?” Meha was let down by this and complained,”What a boring question. Change it.” But Nirali said, “It’s good. Shut up. Ok, who’ll go first?”

Shreya said, “I’ll go. One thing which I want to do before I die is to become famous.” Everyone agreed as they knew that she would someday make it as a model. She continued, “And the next thing I want to do is to go on a world trip on my own money.”

Nimish started speaking, “That’s cool. I’ll go next. One thing I want to do before I die is to go out on a date with Shreya and the next thing is to have sex.” This time everyone was again surprised at him, but were also shocked. They were aware of the different ways in which he would try to ask Shreya out for a date but they had no clue about the next craving developments. Meha was the first to speak up for a long time, “With her?” Nimish understood that he had been misunderstood and corrected himself, “No, no. Not with her. Generally.” Jay asked him wickedly, “So you don’t want to do it with her?” Nimish blushed and said, “It’s not like that. Come on guys. You’re taking this the wrong way. Chuck it. Nirali, just speak something, will you please.”

She stopped laughing and said, “Hmm, one thing that I want to do is to live at least one day without any sort of fear. The second thing is to be a child again.” “That was really good. Really, we miss our childhood days, don’t we? Anyways, Meha?” said Abhi. She said, “No you go first.”

Abhi said, “Alright. Hey where are we?” Nirali looked out and said, “Dadar. That was fast.” Abhi continued, Yeah. Alright. Two things that I want to do are bungee jumping and under water snorkeling.” Everyone knew how much he was into extreme sports and weren’t much surprised. Jay said, “Ok, Meha. It’s your turn now.”

She sat upright, but still holding Abhi’s arm, and said, “One thing is to get married to Abhi as soon as possible.” “Whoa. Slow down lady. There’s lots of time to think and talk about that.” Abhi snapped. Meha then said, “Alright. I’ll take that back. One thing is to surely quit drinking. And...Hmm... I’ll think of something good and huge. Ok. The next thing I want to do is to remove poverty and terrorism.” This time Jay snapped back, “Ha! Like that’s going to happen any time soon. It’s always been like this and it will always be. Its like a bloody leech, sucking out till nothing’s left.” Nirali tried to calm him down and said, “Chill Jay. Don’t get so excited. Ok, it’s your turn now. It’s almost Bandra.”

Jay started thinking. In his usual manner, raising his left eyebrow, scratching his chin with his left hand. At least he tried to think of something. When he could finally do that, he forgot it totally again. Everything went blank in his head. Everything went white. He couldn’t figure out anything. Couldn’t make out anything. All he could see is huge noise flying around him and all he could hear was red. The only thing he could smell was heat. That was all he could take and let himself free in the rushing tornado of souls.

He didn’t know how long he had been like this. The sharp pain by the strong pull in his arms and legs woke him up. He tried to open his, but was able to open up just his right eye. After shaking out the hazy view, he realized he was being carried by some strangers. Where, he didn’t know and why. After he was laid down, he tried to shout because of the pain in his limbs. But no voice was heard. He started to move his neck and looked around with his one-eyed vision. He saw people running away from him, people running towards him. He saw them carrying something heavy in huge groups. He couldn’t make out anything. He was confused as ever. Then he turned the other side and saw the train. The side of the compartment they were in was totally ripped off. There were bodies lying everywhere. It took sometime for him to grasp the effect of the situation, but once he did, he was even more scared than before. He started looking around frantically. He was looking for his friends. He couldn’t spot them anywhere. But finally when he looked towards his feet, he saw them. He saw them piled up amongst others, who had seen the same face of fate as they had. He just couldn’t take his eyes away from them. And when it started to rain, he just closed his eyes and cried. He cried as had never cried before.

AM I ALONE?

I sit down on this wet sand and think …. What am I doing here? Why am I here? Why is it that I feel so lonely and down in my life? I try to remember all the happy memories, all my old friends, the places we visited, the things we used to do…but everything’s just a memory right now. It’s just locked away in some dark corner of my mind which I’d rather not open fearing that it’d make me more miserable. All I wanted to do now was to sit and think. But think what? I don’t have anyone who’ll be waiting for me. I don’t have anyone who’ll say “I missed you” when I go back. I don’t even have anyone who’ll ask me where I’d been to. But as I see the hand painted clouds, the moss covered rocks, the chrome yellow horizon acting like a gap filler between the clouds and the water, the silver colored waves making gurgling sounds, the orange streaks of light like streaks of fire, clouds like wisps of smoke out of a toy-train, the faint display of the moon, the lone star always trying to get near the moon but never can….I felt good. It put my mind at ease. I came to know that I have me for myself. I have someone who’s there for me, with me no matter what. By now the sun had drowned into the calm waters and the sky was getting darker. But the darkness from my mind and heart had been lifted. I felt happy. I felt contented. I felt like myself……..I am not alone…….

I look.
I look at the streak.
I look at the thin white streak.
The thin, long, ethereal white streak. Dissolving away into the air.
Dissolving away as if it is totally irrelevant and unnecessary on this planet.
Dissolving away, but not without a fight. A struggle.
A struggle for existence.
A fight for sustaining its integrity.
A fight to stay intact but overpowered by the merciless forces of nature.

But this struggle isn’t just for its own existence. It’s not dying alone. It’s not being buried six-feet under empty-handed. It’s taking something with it.
Something which isn’t its own.
Something which it never desired but has been destined to take with it. It’s been given to it voluntarily by the other entity without any hesitation. Even though the object’s precious, one of a kind, they don’t have any inhibitions of giving it away. And it is gladly accepted…..

Coming back to the streak of white vapor. Staring at the point where the evenness is disturbed and is minced into zillions of arbitly aimed tributaries. I tend to trace back.
I trace back the path of the vapor. To the source.
To the beginning.
To the start……

But the start is in fact the end of something else. I watch the ghostly white fumes coming out of a tip.
A red tip.
A red-hot burning tip. I look closely.
I look closely at the red edge. How it’s making its way. In a wavy manner.
In an arbit way.
No direction. But generally heading towards a pre-destined point. Burning the path it treads on. Leaving a residue. A residue which even after the gruesome procedure, tries to stay together.
Tries to hang on. But is disrupted.
Disrupted by the force, created and sometimes stronger than the nature.
Their bonds are broken.
Their links clipped. They fall down.
They fall down into the deep abyss. They try to hold on even when they fall.
They try to at least fall down in peace. But things never go as they are planned or expect to happen.
They’re blown by the wind into nothing…..nothing…..nothing……

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

Lights off. Doors closed. Curtains pulled. Cool wind blowing through the broken window. Trying to block away the noise and commotion going on in the corridor outside. You try to remember when was the last time you did it. How exactly had you done it? How did you feel after you'd done it? But you put those thoughts aside as you're disturbed by the sound of the matchstick striking the phosphoric side of the matchbox. You see that everything's ready. What needs to be crushed is crushed, what needs to be cut is cut, what needs to be rolled is rolled and what needs to be done is being done. There's a bright light which illuminates our dingy room for just a nanosecond, enough time to look at the stern and concentrated look on your mate's face. Looked funny. Eyes open like a slit of wound, nose cringed and lips puckered. The same face you'd make when you'd kiss something or someone disgusting. The only difference is the presence of a thin, long cylidrical thing between his lips. You see the tip of the flame come in contact with the tip of the object. Suddenly, you don't know why, you're applying your school science to know why the flame is orange in color when there's plenty of oxygen around. At this point, your mate says, "Dude, light yours". You clean your mind slate and draw your face towards the flickering flame. Your mate covers the flame with his cupped hands. You suck, you try to suck air through the thing you're holding in your mouth. The air is not only filled with the required amount of oxygen to help you sustain your life but also with nitrogen and other pollutants along with other recently added flavors and chemicals. You know that you're polluting yourself, you're killing yourself. But it doesn't matter because you've chosen not o care. You do it quite a few times until you start to hear the faint grumbling sounds. Before you can realize, you now clearly hear the chord of the guitar, the tap of the snare and the note on the synth. The music starts. But its still not music for you. For you its just a ramble, a coarse jamming of some novice, inexperienced instrument players and obviously out of tune. But slowly, you tend to catch on what's going on. You listen more attentively. Even thought the vocals are just a mumbling of words like they're chanting some African tribe chats in a state of trance, the music starts to make sense. You start to understand the music, what it means. What its trying to tell you, something which you always wanted an answer for. It makes you lose your mind, it makes you forget the world around you. You want to rock your head in tune with the music, but you don't feel like. You just stare and gape at it. You let yourself float. You feel the world around you isn't real everything;s just an illusion. Its all a made up, set up situation of which you're a puppet whose strings are in the control of a greater force than you. you can feel you're weightless body slowly lifting up from the firm ground. Without any hindrances, you reach the zenith of space. You're still sucking on the ignited tube. You float in tune with the music. You fly in and out of the sound holes, ride on the strings hop on the pads. Suddenly the only thing you can hear is the rhythmic and soft tapping on the high hats. You block out all other music. With each tap you're changing your co-ordinates in the vast, open space. The bass hits your heart like the hammer of the gods. You don't see stars, instead you see whole galaxies. Then comes the "only god could;ve done it" lead. This is the closest to heaven you can get. You are climbing the stairway to heaven. This is a moment of bliss for you. you feel like this is what you were craving for all your life. This is what everyone tries to find in everything - peace and happiness. You feel like you're on top of the misty mountain and you're comfortably numb to the materialistic world. You can smell the vivid colors of the music in the whispering wind. And then you stand still. You stand still and the whole space around is flying past you. You're in a starfield and it's just gushing past you with variable velocities according to the notes. Everything;'s on motion blur right now. You start to try to make sense of things again, but you can't. Everything fading away. You feel heavy like lead. You start dropping. Carelessly, you drop into the black hole. You struggle, but you cant get out. You realize, better to fade away than to burn out. You let yourself loose, you be sucked to the epicenter. You realize, life is to rock and not to roll. The last thing you hear is the clanging of the division bell.

MEMORY MANAGEMENT

Every time I keep thinking of starting to write a blog. But whenever I sit down in front of my computer to start tapping on those small keys on the keyboard, I just seem don't to have any patience. I'll have loads of thoughts, loads of views about loads of topics running in arbit Brownian motion in my brain, but I just can't seem to put it down in ink or in print. I look at the keyboard, the mouse, the screen and then before I can remember, I'm trying to save my butt or fragging someone else's butt with a rocket launcher....!!!!
Keeping the stupid computer aside, I'd even thought of jotting down those thoughts on a paper too. But me being a five-point someone, who picks up his pen on just a few special occasions viz. during my exams, to sign somewhere or just to give the lecturer an impression that I'm taking down notes when I'm not...I could possibly have no time to write a blog when I could be better off fragging all over again....
But right now, sitting in this idiotic, irrelevant lecture (cuz he's making no sense of what he's uttering in a language which he claims to be "YENGLISH", filled to the brim with mallu accent), I went down deep into my pit to do some deep thinking and it occurred to my wandering mind, why don't I write a blog right now? It wasn't a bad idea after all as there wasn't any other better job in my life to do at that particular instant. So, picked up my pen, my notepad, placed the tip of my pen on the ruled sheet and thought, what shall I write about? Ok, shall I write about the stupid lecture that's going on? Nah, to boring even to think about it. Even if I tried to fill it with some sarcastic, raunchy, naughty, racist or even gross and black humor, it would be just too bland. Then I thought, shall I write about myself? But then, who can write about themselves without exaggerating. Everyone claims that they are modest, but that's nothing but a over-hyped characteristic feature, an adjective they wanna place when they write about themselves. In short, they think that they're modest when they're not. So I thought against the idea of writing about myself. And even if I wrote, I'd write so much, I don't mean I'd write all the good things and exaggerate some, but I'd also write about all the bad, stupid and nasty stuff which I kinda like and I do. And who wants to get embarrassed or humiliated anyways. Then I thought, shall I write about my friends? Well, not a bad idea, cuz everyone loves to criticize about someone or something behind their backs. I can write whatever I want about them, and they cant do a shit about it. But then, when you say something about someone, you need an audience who agrees with you when you say something nice or laugh with you when you sat something nasty. But since I don't have any audience right now, I thought, it wont be any use writing about someone cause no one will think I'm cool or good at judging people (well, I'm no one to judge people, but WTF, who doesn't).
And then, a lot of other, out of the world topics cropped up in my tiny brain. Music, the stupid relative grade point system, the expanding hole in the ozone layer which is frying up the over-polluted, over-populated home planet, UFO's and people being abducted and to top that, coming back alive to talk about such crap. About reincarnation, that is there is something called as life after death. But I don't see what's the point' Cuz there has to be a death for that life too, so is there any life after THAT death....???? Well, it seems to be a stupid vicious circle which keeps going on and makes no sense (just like this piece of crap I'm writing). About the recently hyped controversy about the Holy Grail, Mary Magdalene and Jesus. Well, I', still in the process of reading about it, so can't say much. About the increasing intensity of internet pornography and porn MMS clips, but me being a desperate 3rd year engineering student, staying in an all boys hostel (hopes of staying in a co-ed hostel...!!!) and studying in a college where the limit of good-looking homo-sapiens of the other sex tends to zero, I don't mind and I'm not complaining until and unless I get those MMS clips asap.....!!
By then I'd realized I hadn't written a single word. The point of contact between my pen and the paper had created a large oculus shaped blot on my notepad and as I admired at the artistic blot I'd made, I faintly heard my name being called. When I glanced at the source, all I could see was an antennae-less Martian staring at me. I could hear it say something in its Martian lingo, "Bwat ju ju mbeen fy memari managmunt?". But I just kept imagining about the zeppelin shaped crop-circle the UFO would have made and who are they gonna abduct next.....??????