DESI DEFINED

You are a Desi if you fulfill most of these-

• You unwrap gifts very carefully, so you can save and reuse the wrapping next year.
  You only buy Diwali cards after Diwali, when they are 50% off.
  You tape cards on the wall.
  You use the dishwasher as a dish rack.
  You eat all meals in the kitchen.
  You use grocery bags to hold garbage.
  You leave your shoes at the door.
  You have a collection of shampoo sachet.
  You never order stuff online.
  You own a rice cooker or a pressure cooker.
  You wash your rice 2-3 times before cooking it.
  You curse yourself for buying a ticket if nobody checks it.
  You reuse teabags.
  You have a drawer full of old pens, most of which don’t write anymore.
  Your parents never go to the movies.
  Your parents are never happy with your grades.
  You use coke cans/ refined oil containers/ paint or distemper boxes in toilets.
  You keep used batteries, and keep checking them time & again if they work.
  You keep most of your money in a savings account.
  You call an older person you never met before “uncle.”
  No one you’re related to is a music major.
  Your parents don’t realize phone connections to foreign countries have improved in the last two decades, and still scream at the top of their lungs.
  You cook in bulk.
  You never give a tip.
  Your can’t resist spitting on the sidewalk.
  You use Vicks/ Painjon/ Amrutanjan.
  You’ve been in a bus where half the people riding are outside the bus.
  Experiencing 20 power blackouts in a single day doesn’t faze you.
  You pronounce “wary” and “very” in the same way.
  You spew forth the virtues of India, but don’t want to live there.
  You can never dream of actually buying a software.
  You majored in engineering or medicine.

Note:This post has been copied straight off Pandu's blog(satyavrat.wordpress.com)

AUDIO - SLAVE!!

No, I am not going to talk about the band as most of u must have presumed. It is an excellent band and certainly deserves a lot of cheers...but we shall leave that for later. I discuss here the root cause and impact of audio as our generation knows it today.

The world is definitely shrinking. Or maybe,its getting too congested in turn giving us a vision of compression. Today is the age of miniaturization. Bigger is no longer better...atleast not always.We see smaller gadgets everywhere...cars,mobiles,laptops,watches,washing machines...what not...u name it and they have it. We are too crammed for space. This change brought about the age of music-on-the-move. The radio has made a come-back in a big way. Mobiles come with in-built mp3 players. iPods are a common gadget. And everyone,and i mean everyone, is Plugged-In.

Whether it be the executive on his way to the office, the child coming back from school on a bus or a by-stander at the crossroads everyone is listening to something. Not that this in itself is a bad thing. However,what is happening behind the scenes is that we are slowly but surely giving less importance to our other senses. We have stopped observing the people next to us on the road,we have stopped looking out of the car to marvel at the greens next to us. We are living in a parallel world instantaneously. And our attention is divided. If one was to pull down ones car window and listen to the sounds surrounding oneself one would realize that I am not lying. We are becoming Audio - Slaves. No,we already are there...just that we are in a spell and when the spell breaks we shall all be BLIND.

"all I have to do is just close my eyes
to see the sea gulls wheeling in the far distant skies
all I wanna to tell you all I wanna say
is count me in on the journey don't expect me to stay ."
Pink Floyd

Strangers

It is very seldom that one reflects upon the importance of strangers in their lives.However the reflections or their absence is not what we are talking about here.

Indian mothers are very wary of the concept of strangers(not without reason maybe).We were all taught not to speak to that man with those delctable sweets, to run from a smile, a hoarse voice and a pair of hazy eyes.

But then all of a sudden something happens which is
least expected by our parents. We grow up. We start exploring the wonders of the new found world which exists beyond the corners of ones own street.Each one of us remembers the first time we riked our cycles on to the main road. We flew on twin-wheels along with the cars,the bikes and those big trucks. I suspect some might have carried out hat venture on foot/any other means of transport but it did happen nonetheless. Then came the sweets shop, the 'paan' dukaan, the 'sabji' bazaar,the pani puri 'thela' and life flowed like a thick syrup along the streets and we were eager to turn one more corner to taste the air there.

However, it was the expansion of the physical world.We would still refuse the toffee/chocolate unless we paid for it ourselves. Somehow for some unknown reason money validated a lot of things. I for one took quite some time to grasp the idea of money, I understood the numbers printed on them but the whole concept avoided me for long.

And thus our life became confined to the people we met in schools, in tuituions, at our own homes, colony, locality and the places where our parents took us, added to the list validated by money(namely the 'pani puri wala's, the vegetable seller, the 'paan wala's etc because one paid them). If you were ever seen trying to operate the top('lattu') with a kid from the slum nearby or any other unknown kid for that matter in all propability you were scolded back to the safety of your house.

But the time came when one day we broke that cover too.It could have been that man at the bus stand and the cricket match India lost,it could have been the old man who goes for a morning walk and his toothless grin.We started interacting with starngers. A few would go on to become a part of our lives and most would be gone in a few hours but they all leave a lingering smell in the air.Their memories crop up at the starngest of times and they make good stories to tell.These fleeting relationships somehow transcend a lot of absrtactions like respect, trust, caste, creed, sex.They are, at times, the closest person to person interaction one can have.

Starngers walk away knowing more about you than some of your closest friends and leave behind their own secrets to guard forever.

Words.

extremely strange creatures they are.....ever changing ever evolving.It is almost as if they have a mind of their own...At times they are like your best friend, flowing with you....articulating anthing you wish....and yet at times inept at expressing themselves.....as in what words are there that better describe the words pain,thought,blue....i could go on for ever.....and yet they can be powerful enough to move huge armies to war....inspire humans to do that which is impossible....to wound a person deeper than any dagger could have....am not saying that i have discovered something new....just a mere observation.A fragment of my thoughts...an impression left behind by meandering feet.

Drunk in Goa.

I wish i could drift on,
Drift on with the flow,
Let all waves flow over me,
Let the tide engulf my pride.

And the ebbing sea carries me on;
To never,never land.

Fishes and octupuses ,
And a few sea-horses too...
In never,never land.

A few Goan songs
And candlelit beer
In never ever land.

Fireworks in the nightsky
And the last cigarette butt;
In never never land.

Abroken pen,a wet diary
And an unfinished poem.
In my never never ..........

The Trap Door

I float solemnly up there,
There is eucalyptus in the air.

I have to break through,
Straight on through the trap door.

My city of smiling faces,
Of screeching tyres
And slithering steel wires
Stifles me.

I have to break through,
Straight on through the trap door.

And I float slowly up there

Monkeys turning cartwheels
And snakes dancing to the same old tune.
A hundred channels shout,
And a million phone calls
There are two more cars on the road today
And three less septagerians.
The rickshaw wala pulls on…..
His tired limbs ……he pulls on......

And I float slowly up there,
The mirth of death poisons the air.

I have to break through,
Straight on through the trap door.

The moons riding high
And it is the 21st of July;
Another glimpse of life
Another slice of my time.
Network of lampposts
Directing us down roads
We travel everyday.

And I float slowly up there
But there is no air anymore;
No one can break through,
The disillusion, the trap door......

Voices.

The muted drizzle brings to me
The sounds of the night,
As My Navy Cut and I listen;
To the story....the story of another day,
another fight ,another battle ,another epilogue.

The factories,the roads,the cash counters...
Are silent as half-dead human voices speak at last.
The laments of the drunken rickshawpuller,
The sobs of the bereaved mother
Who paid her son to the country for subsidised kerosene,
The lonely husband who awaits his wanton wife,
A young couple making love.
The sethji counts on....green notes...green leaves.
The beggar shuffles past small puddles,
Brown stains on grey pants.....
And a bright red heart with smoking black lungs.

And the night radio plays on...
Singing the epilogue to another day.
My Navy Cut and I...we burn on...
And the sounds of this wet night.

Devil's Dance

The rain pours down,
Red drops from a brilliant red sky.

Each drop reverberates....
Calling all cold-blooded creatures
To come alive.
Slithering snakes....
Copulating Turtles....
Throbbing lizards....
Dead Men.

The drops fall on deserts of dried blood,
Soaking up the evil of ages,
And forming pools of scarlet sins.
Religion,caste,war,sex.....
They all dissolve.

Hearts that had stopped beating
Once more filled with desire.
Ah ! The air so promiscous.....
Ensnares the mind.
It pains....to breathe.

The world celebrates in one big orgy.
The rain dances down,
Red drops from a brilliant red sky.
The Dance Of The Devil!!!!!

She

She is the image of a girl waltzing....
oh how she moves....
her hips...
her arms........
her legs.....
her eyes......
piercing the darkness of the cold night,
her gaze transcends horizons ,and,
shakes out of his nightmare
every man who has ever loved......