sometimes i think writing is an escape route for me…telling it to someone would have meant once in while you will have to put up with their crappy opinions on something [to be sure atleast the bastards are listening]…they think they know the world about but…who are we kidding you are clueless as me…but since sitting idle with no talks would be like taking out your dick to piss out of pants and even after million try’s and million minutes past…you are just standing there holding it in midair…

writing on the other hand is like masturbation…you know when it has been enough you need to discard the creative juice out of your body…in this case you know…’too much’ is just too much…well whatever is said above assumes that you are not suffering from erectile dis-function in which case you were never a man…or a writer

I am back to blogging again [as if someone cares...well yea till the point this crap finds its place in book]…

I feel i am still connected to it in more ways than one…for most movies a success would if you can identify yourself while you are… watching it…but what would you call a movie which makes you feel like its characters long after you have seen it…its the latter that “The Japanese wife” belongs to…

anyone who thinks he knows Indian Cinema…its a must watch…and a collectible

Kudos… to Aparna Sen, Rahul Bose, Raima Sen, Mausami chatterjee…even the little Poltu…for bringing the movie to life…

खोला तो सीलन लगा
काफी सारा कूड़ा करकट गिर पड़ा

एक हनुमान चालीसा और एक ताबीज गिरे मिले
और अब्बा की वो बात कौध गयी मस्तिष्क में

“जूने…अल्लाह राम में से एक को चुन लेना बेटा”

कोशिश की मन भर, भर पेट
पर क्या करू
न कभी अरबी पढ़ पाया और न संस्कृत चित्त चढ़ी
(बड़ी ही मुस्किल जबाने है दोनों)
और अल्लाह राम को हिंदी नहीं आती थी
दोनों में से मुझे किसी ने आवाज़ लगा के बुलाया ही नहीं
यूँही चलता रहा कारवां
और मैं बंजारा बन कर रहा गया

(खैर फिलहाल आत्मा की शांति के लिए
ये चुनाव तो जरुरी है
चुन लूं, कभी,
तो जला देना
या दफना देना
डायरी में नोट कर लिया बड़े बड़े अक्षरों में
अपना धर्म चुनना बाकि है)

एक फटे पुराने कपडे में
बधी बहुत सारी मिटटी हल्दी चन्दन
माँ के पैर की मटमैली बिछिया मिल पड़ी
फिर याद आया उन पैरो में दुसरे जोड़े
देखने के उद्देश्य से घर छोड़ा था

“बिटवा, लवट अईय्हे”

(लौट आना, काश इतना आसन होता माँ)

सीलन लगी पुरानी चिट्ठी
जो मिली तो
अनायास ही कुछ अश्क बे-इरादा
हो पलकों से बाहर चल दिए
उसके प्यार की नर्म छाँव
उसके हथेली की गर्म मसक को
चिट्ठी की सीलन मान
गर नजरंदाज कर भी दूं,
तो भला कैसे

मूई
ये दराज जब भी खुलती है
न अपने काम का रह जाता हु
न जग का एक नाम रह जाता हु

विभा को ही कह दूंगा
सब बटोर दे

This one is gonna be a long one…hope u read it full…I know u donn like reading stuff but I always thought I was the only exception to this generalization…

m sorry I made u think u did something wrong…coz u didn’t…I could have never been such a good host or such a gr8 friend as u were…I was just in weird mood today leaving you…I suck at moving on…I donn like it when people leave…I am not good at parting…though I pride myself in being an awesome communicator…I always know what to say and when to say….but was so full of too many things…was afraid if it would make sense even if I did manage to utter something…

Have you ever felt its just too many move ons in life…have u ever wished that a hug would last a second longer…a rendezvous a fraction of light year longer…have you ever felt that someone was important than you yourself and your entire world at some moment in life…have you ever loved someone like crazy even if you n that person can’t be together…n you donn want that person for yourself anymore…but to you she still matters much more than anything else…is it so wrong to love a person like that…have you ever felt thank you’s and sorry ‘s do not matter anymore…if u say something…the most you do is belittle that relationship…its above these things…

I was not sure if I could have said answers to these questions…perhaps it would have taken a week…perhaps a month or maybe even a lifetime would have been too small and too meaningless to say that something…that everything…I am still not sure what I wanted to say…3 days was too less…a tad to less…you and I are in different phases in life…but m able to get even small things…u say…u feel…

small small things that u feel but u donn say…

I wrote too much…even if u could have feel a fraction of what I felt…your heart will grow too heavy…too big…

Amigos…till we meet again…be good be safe

Missing U
Piyush

My Birthday 18th Dec – Well yea…I am officially 26 now…how does it feel different from 25…not very different I suppose physically…but a lot changed on the emotional level…which I am gonna tell u in a while…but let me start with something else…my birthdays were never the best part of my year…they usually start on very low note…n descend even deeper by the night…last time same year I was typing god knows what shit on black screen which I thought was height of sucking at one’s own birthday (because the most important person in my life was seating there in South Korea earning some white dollars to fund something which even she was not clear amounted to what in her life…anyways bottom line it sucked pretty bad)…the only saving grace was my team…yea the people I have been seating with over 2.5 years for about 10 hours each day in vicinity of about 10 feet…this was the team I created from scratch…I always thought of them as my brothers and sisters or even kids perhaps sometimes…helping them in their work…their family lives…their love lives n what not…these guys (let me correct janani always remembers…prince/sameera/naresh/govi always plan the party) always remembered my birthday…though it sucked…but sometimes chocolate truffles just sounds like a good panacea for healing the sucking…

Anyways my birthday this time around came as a shocker…I always thought that these kids will always be happy to see me doing something more worthwhile in life…something better…anyways the birthday was celebrated but with smirks in place of heart-ious smiles…it felt as though I was the traitor selling them to an enemy…anyways on top of god knows what shit work…chocolate truffle mixed with acidic feelings (these things are never said but you always feel the undercurrent)…anyways it opened my eyes to some reality which I had been neglecting for a some time now…things have changed for me…but not for people around me…infact when I am not here nobody will fight for their point of view in front of top management…It made be realize that I just can’t turn my back to them…I need to change their state too…

but How I had to figure out?

ISB meet 19th Dec – I was happy that I was finally with a bunch of people who were genuine…that I did not have to pretend to be someone else…I could be myself in entirety

Knee Surgery 21st Dec – In words of my mother “I came back from dead by some divine intervention”…she was thanking 80 crores of gods we have in hindu religion…anyways I always felt she was overtly melodramatic…would have played a perfect mom to Amitabh Bachchan in all his late 80′s films…

Anyhow I remember just one week back I was sitting in front of doctor telling him about my surgery plans n all…n how he exclaimed I knew more about ACL and Meniscus reconstruction than most people…I knew what he was to do on my knee…and still wanted to go ahead with it alone n that too just next week…he thought I was some sort of nut case or just insanely brave…anyways I heard his advice n called my parents…which really helped

Now just 3 days after one hell of major surgery I am back to blogging. Though at the face of it…I didn’t show any pains or fear…but the truth was I was shit-scared one day before the actual surgery…I went and brought my parents at 2 in the night…then at around 5:30 I drove a car to hospital which is nearly 20 km from my home…straight away went into the preparation room…just 2 hours before the operation all the fear of death n all went off…I donn why? but I was feeling a strange sort of strength…which somehow seeped through a thought that “there are just 2 ways to live life…either choose what you want in life or let life choose for you…both ways you gonna end up screwed…Only you yourself should have the right to screw you n not some fart-bucket-absentee-GOD seating above”

I sent a text to my best friend (she has always been a constant pillar of strength…if I look back I think I have not been able to thank her enough for being there…I am not going to do it today as well)…

Anyways positive thoughts just give strength to face things but they don’t do away with your pain…3 Big syringes where inserted into my back (basically into the epidural space…the region surrounding spinal cord)…usually in such surgeries anesthesia is injected into the central nervous system through the epidural space…anyways it pains like hell…you always have sensation that something solid/metallic is inserted into your back…feeling such things and then thinking “this is something that I called upon myself…I could have just let it be…not have gone for such extreme major surgery” but then that is not how Masked Crusader would have wanted to lived his life…that is not how Masked Crusader will live his life!!!

hmmm after that everything went numb and black…later I was told the operation went on for over 5 hours…I must have done some major shit with my knee…anyways I woke up feeling extreme cold as if I had been put up in freezer…this went on for about 3 hours where I could feel like seating on Himalayas with bare testicles…hard metallic sensation in backbone…severe severing…was not crying though in all this…mind was working fine….saw my mother once…she went into trance just kept hugging me…holding me tight…as if I was going to die…then she was made to leave…doctor said she might go into a cardiac arrest…her blood pressure went very low…they removed her…for one moment I felt was going to die/numb/or dead already…that lasted for about an hour…my entire life kept flashing before my eyes…could not pick and choose where I was right or wrong…whether it had been worthwhile to live such a life…but I still lived it…loved it

Its true…most near death experience change your perspectives of life…on life

Cheers,
mC

P.S – I survived…

she had worn seven blue and red unbroken bangles
broken ones
had cut too deep
into her veins draining out blood

naked
she was
as the ocean shore (after a tumultuous tempest)
as peepal tree
in my backyard
(after the first rains of monsoon)

like naked me
like her sad eyes
as moon cast those forlorn nets
on those full moon nights
so naked…so alone

her father said
she was gang raped while coming from work late last night
[Indian streets are not safe for working women
fundamentalist say women should not work late,
it wobbles the fine fabric of society]

I looked into her eyes
they were as if
people came, took the parking ticket
forgot to return the ticket with faces
and somewhere they are still parked inside of her

there is
so much pain…
of the dog who died in the tunnel
of weary days
and slow moving nights
of ill-timed periods
of unfinished and unread
million stories
of sluts and whores

I thought we are on
lets make love tonight

I took my scapula
teared a cut in between those immaculate
milky white breasts; I touched them for a second
thought how I would have wanted to ravage them
had she been alive

then I took out all the organs
from her body
[there's not much difference between
stripped goat put on display at a butchers shop
and a pathologists AT]

while I sewed her back
I wrote
she was raped by 6 men
later strangled by neck
then thrown into a pond from some bridge approximately 20 meter high
she fell head first on some rock
the cause of death was breakage of squamousal suture
and acute bleeding
[She died a very painful death]

P.S – Oh!! Sorry, I’ll write you rosy love making poem soon (because it’s more fun). You can’t really think romantic with corpse smell between your nails

Or perhaps I was never that great a poet anyway

I have to go for my ACL reconstruction surgery in few days…in the same regards I went to Apollo today…I was sitting outside the radiology room waiting for my X-ray reports…there was this iranian lady…a little bulky in size…pale white in color…yellow top…black half jacket…and a torn jeans…though very typical modern lady appearance…

I saw something really peculiar…she sat there rubbing something…and murmering some arabic in mouth…the lips moved like crazy with no sound…she was afraid…I could read that…

I started thinking what kind of modern woman she was…getting scared like hell and murmering in mouth…and counting beeds on necklace…I thought I should talk to her…ask her why was she afraid…I am still drunk over my recent success…I thought if wanted to be good manager I should be able to talk to anyone anytime anything…and I kept thinking how I should start the conversation…”I can not help but notice that you are murmering something within your breath…Can I know what it is that is troubling you so much”…

Then that iranian lady just got up…walked to the doctor’s room…peeping in through the little bifurcation between the gates…this time I was able to see a tiny pink sweater for a kid hardly 6 months old…at the same moment something hit really hard…I felt ashamed of who I was…what was I trying to do…This no MBA coll…I felt so cheap as a human being…I thought in the race to become a good manager…I was loosing myself…

When she came back from that room…this time I didn’t ask her anything…just put my hand over her…and started praying…I don’t beleive that someone is there above watching over us…I still prayed and hoped that someone was above and her prayers are answered…

Date: 12-Nov-2009
Time: 14:40 Hours
Duration: 30 minutes approximately
Panel No: 1
City: Hyderabad(HYD)
Venue: ISB Campus, Gachibowli, Hyderabad 500032

After the initial euphoria ended of getting a call from ISB which lasted for exactly 3 hours…I realized I just had 3 days to prepare for interviews…which basically said I was screwed big time…Anyways did some normal prep before the interview, then the came the interview date.

The interview got delayed by about 40-50 minutes or so…the candidate who went before me lasted for exactly 17 minutes…also when he was inside lot of loud noises were coming from inside…I had heard a lot about ISB interviews “How they are all conversational, friendly and discussion oriented” aimed at bringing best from the candidate…I has to face a different experience…

I entered the room…greeted the interviewers…one lady aged roughly between 40 and 45 and one gentleman in his late 30′s or early 40′s…I will call them L, G for sake of convenience…

Q1.

L : So ___ you seem to have done so many things, Area 1, Area 2, Area 3 etc from resume (strictly)…why do you do so many things…Are u bored with life ?
G : Why don’t you leave something for other to do ?
Me : (WTF!!! WHERE IS MY TMAY)…Gave some gyan.

Q2.

L : In your App you say your biggest strength is Strength A…Give 2 instances where you demonstrated this thing ?
Me – Answer
L : Not satisfied, cross question
Me – Answer, cut short…lot more gang bang

By this time I realized, that it was a stress interview. I just needed not to loose calm

Q3.

G : You come industry X, whats the biggest problem facing this industry? How can this be improved? what steps you would take to rectify these loopholes?
L : what are 3 biggest trends coming in this industry? Lots of cross questioning ?
Me – Answered

Q4.

L : You work for Company Y, How has recession effected its bottom line?
Me : Recession actually benefited my company.
G : how did it benefit your company when so many lost millions and your company is losing millions due to recession…blah blah?
Me : Answered this is great detail…giving relevant stats wherever required…discussed growth/sustainability…blah blah…why this all has helped my company…(one of the clinchers)

Q5.

G : ___ why do want to do your MBA from ISB ?
Me : (realized L was noticing my body language…ny hand movements n all…thought of changing it once…but then decided against it…I was more comfortable this way …kept talking)

Q6.

L : ___ U said you wanted to start an entrepreneurship venture? what model are you going to follow? why does your venture make sense? Why would people actually give so much money for such venture? Many more on the same theme…

Me : Discussed this thing in great detail…had worked on this…so made sense i guess in the interview…

Q7.

G : Took a specific instant of people management, asked about how I managed the conflict?
Me : Narrated the incident…describing my chain of thought in great detail.

L : Do you treat this instant as Success or Failure?
Me : Failure on personal front, Success on professional front.

Q8.

G : ___ So you are a poet, recite something for us?
Me : Gave them some lines from my latest work…also presented a published poetry book to Interviewers as a souvenir (not as bribe)…

L : Read 2-3 poems while G was discussing something with me…actually went ahead and found a spelling mistake
Me : (I was like WTF…its worst day of my life…they are hell bent on screwing me …admitted to mistake)

Q9.

L : Do you have any questions for us?
Me : Asked them a few questions…

Interview ended…Was more than happy to come out…observed the watch…Interview had lasted for some 37 minutes…

Note : My personal experience, It felt as though in short of better word “molested”

keeping fingers crossed!!!
mC

last one n half months have been excruciating to say the least…i had thought that atleast i was good enough to get ISB I/V call…they might reject me in the interview after chatting with me…but no I/V calls…before posting my app…i had taken the opinion from 2 of my friends…last year ISB grads…they both were majorly positive about atleast the call…

but naah as it turns out i have goofed up my application…wasn’t even fit for the interview…it feels a lot gloomy right now…

i will bounce back…failures are just making my story more interesting…

I can still paint my thoughts…fffffff…comes as a huge surprise…haven’t painted in a long long time…had thought i forgotten the art…i guess its like driving swimming music acting poetry…even when you think you have nothing left inside of you…few ambers are still there lurking inside…a good gash of hot air…its as fresh as ever…was feeling a lot tensed due to wait for ISB I/V call…this wait is killing

so took out a parch of paper, some old colors and brushes from closet and started paiting…it helped me destress…now i am feeling good and exhilarated…

P.S – took me 9 n half hours to finish this one

i feel he was eying us through
moonbeams…
crystallising between us now…
why are they estranging us tonight?
now i no more feel
your touch…yours arms
i see the moons are casting his shadow
time crystallizing…grain by grain
rendezvous so divine

the potter of night
again created the round
water jugs…holding
my dreamy elixir…

the weaver of night
has spun the thread of nostalgic memories
nets are trapping me
sucking out the air
to rejuvenate me

again the vast ship of night sails through
filling the canvas with color of dark
stars throbbed…perfect silence
just the sound of locusts around

we talked…we laughed
we sang…of memories old
of that banyan tree
of those silly girls
of the windmills,handpumps…the flowing rivers
and then you came down on me
piercing me naked through your eyes
veils no more
we kissed with everything around freezing into
nothingness…

while
the moon murmurs…”again i was married
to him this night
felt the silhoutte…felt his touch again”

my “love” is still sleeping…like a child

they say “love is pure”
are they always right?
i should tell him about all this
or maybe….

जिन हाथों को थाम बचपन ने जवानी के
दरवाजे पे दस्तक दी
आज उन झूरिदार हाथो को
शायद उसी जवान लाठी की है तलाश

चीखते थे कभी
ये कुचये
नव के सन्नाटे
आज इन्हें
शायद एक पुकार की है तलाश

ये गोदें क्यूँ है बंजर
कैसा है ये मंजर
कल जिसकी टिकी थी मांग
देखा इस धरती पर उसका ही अक्श
चढा दी बलि, घोट दिया गला
हां अब भी है
शायद अब अभी, इंसानियत को एक अदद इंसान की तलाश

इस सुने आगन को
उन किलकारियों की
जो गूंज ना सकी
शायद उनकी है तलाश

जिन्दा तो सालों से हु
मर तो बहुत पहले ही गया था
इस लाश को
शायद लकडी की है तलाश

क्यूँ लिखी ये तलाश, नहीं जनता
शायद मेरी भी है एक तलाश

मैं खरा सागर हु, अनंत, असीम
एक बूँद प्यास की है तलाश

मैं उदास रास्ता हु शाम का
तेरी आहटों की है तलाश

ये सितारे सब है बुझे बुझे
मुझे जुगनुओ की है तलाश

मैं सतत संघर्ष हूँ जीवन का
मुझे तेरी आँखों में ठहराव की है तलाश

I kept looking into her eyes thinking
of paradise,
she kept whirling her’s around,
not thinking much,
or perhaps thinking of a thousand things.

When the dark clouds covered the moon,
she gazed away from me,
And looked at the changing moon
with her changing eyes,

and then our shadows disappeared.

an intelligent film…doesn’t insult your intelligence…quirkiest set of gangsters that you would have ever seen on indian film screen…comedy is situational and never overdone…performances are just top-rate…characters are flesh and blood…even if thrs just one line in the entire movie…it is enough for defining that character…dialogues are extremely original…screenplay camerawork is superb…background score…the use of old hindi film songs in between…marvelous…gulzar’s lyrics…fatak or dhai baje or dhan te nan…best combo of meaningful poetry within the constraints of being a hindi film song…they were just beautiful…

as charlie say “its a muft watch”…

its for ppl like bharardwaj and kashyap that indian film industry will survive…its interesting to see how these guys are experimenting with elements of absract and still coming up with commercial cinema in its best form…

i mean…dream sequences of charlie’s character and his philosophies in life…most of them existentialist to the very core…

like kashyap used those three dancers in DevD to mirror the internal conundrums of dev’s character…or the piyush mishra’s character of a maverick poet in gulaal…its heart warming to see how these guys are pushing the envelope to encompass more within the confines of traditional escapist indian cinema which had no room for such kind of film-making…

cheers guys…u both rock