DOPPELGÄNGER DILEMMA

Hello. My 2015 was ridiculously average and uneventful. I managed to graduate, and land myself a cool job, which I also spontaneously quit (much to the dismay of a lot of people.) There was hardly any travel, and therefore no exaggerated stories to brag about. My phone’s camera went into a coma. It’s been five months now. (#PrayForMyPhone) There’s like a dark cloud of a quarter-life crisis all set to rain over me. But this post is about a more pressing issue at hand. Something, that is gnawing at the peace of my mind. It is absolutely erratic. Don’t laugh at me. Okay? Okay.

I SEE PEOPLE IN OTHER PEOPLE.

For example. I was once hovering around in my college when I saw this blingy group of kids making small talk. I recognised one of them as a senior, S, from school. It was so refreshing to see S after all this while, especially after he had moved back to his home in Thailand. I gave him a loud slap on the back and almost went “Brooooo!”, when in that split second I realised that it wasn’t him! It was somebody else with the exact make and demeanour as his. Honest mistake. I apologised and made myself scarce immediately. This could be one isolated incident. The stuff that happens to everybody once in a while. But, similar incidents involving different people occurred with me again, and again; became routine. Except now, I only kept this discovery to myself. Obviously.

A teacher who bore an uncanny resemblance to a friend’s mother. A shorter version of a Pakistani actor at my workplace. A friend’s friend who looked like another friend’s friend. A lot of girls at a literature fest who convincingly passed off as a particular somebody I knew of. Two different sets of alike people at work. Random stranger in train with the mistaken appearance of a prick from a youth organisation where I had once worked. Random dude at gym who looked like a 10-years-later version of my brother. Wimpy junior at school who had the replicate eerie countenance as the 10-year-old me. It is a strange strange world brewing inside my brain.

Almost everyday, there is a new doppelgänger. And these are all strangers. Forcing me to walk through my memory-maze and connect their faces to people I know. Maybe, life is subtly implying that I have a subconscious yearning for the people in my past. Either that philosophical stuff, or my mind is totally bonkers (coupled with my refusal to wear my spectacles.)

My best friend, who usually becomes my cheap shrink after 2 AM, is now indifferent to these new conditions of mind that I am continuously coming up with. I zone out a tad more than what is considered normal. But now you will know, that I am probably just processing a new doppelgänger.  So excuse me, will you?

Peace, ho!

PORNOGRAFFITI

I like to believe that all of us are creative in some way or another; we just need to gauge on that inspiration. Now inspiration, is a bitch. It strikes you at the most odd times. If you are an artistic adolescent boy who's just hit puberty, inspiration may come while you are struggling with a measly amount of poop on the seat of a dank commode. Don't believe me? Well, vivid imagery behind toilet doors is routine. It usually is a (dis)tasteful reproduction of the creator's innermost carnal fantasies. Of which you already know, though.

One may trace classic representation of human genitalia to the WC doors of various institutions of education. However, they are no competition to their single-gendered and limited-technology-access segment that is, all boys boarding schools. And do you know why they rule in this little-known-but-widely-seen art? Because imagination, mate, pure imagination. There is no muse from real life or from the screen of a device, to take inspiration from. (I know because I spent almost a decade in an all boys boarding school. Trivia!)

With the recent obituary of pornographic content over the internet, we could really thrive on imagination. The obscenity scene is at an all time low, and perhaps a more modern and progressive cultural revolution will provide for the needful. Maybe subconsciously it is already in the works. Maybe artists, writers, illustrators, intellectuals, pseudo-intellectuals, photographers, musicians and other eclectics have a seed of Ode to Erotica already planted. It is going to be aesthetic enough to grow on the masses, and safe enough to elude the conservatives; so much prudishness for the land of Kama Sutra. Trust the creatives to make a big deal about anything that gets wiped off from the face of earth? (Country, so to speak.)

This cultural renaissance which will take off as a passive rebellion, might serve as flavour and expression and identity for our otherwise redundant themes. Having said that, I must also confess that I am no expert on culture or heritage or society for that matter. My greatest tryst with art was a smug Instagram selfie with the Mona Lisa, where I had concealed my disappointment on discovering 'how small the portrait is in real life!'

So, a shoutout to all you closet creeps and perverts and peeping Toms! Here's a chance to make good on your souls. Be dirty but also unleash that creativity. And be remembered as a pioneer of the great Indian cultural awakening. As a bonus, you will have enough abstract pictures to go along with your corny captions on Instagram! 

However, don't forget that ours is still a land of naysayers. Don't hurt a lot of people or get exiled, or both. Exile sucks.

INCONSISTENCIES

Roads are lonely, but you've got company.

• • •

If you are having a bad day, and waiting for a cheery sign which asks you to be strong, this isn't. Come on. Clowns and dolls have been scaring the shit out of kids for sometime now.

• • •

Bowled and the Beautiful.

• • •

The Man With Two Eyes, One Nose, Etc.

Twice upon a time died a man each. Then another two. And two more... Suicides. The same saga continued till the whole group of rustics succumbed to the most sadist commence to a story, but then the first story of this kind too!

There was a strange gentleman responsible for the self-apocalypse. 'Gentleman' because every man rightfully commands respect, and 'strange' because, as the rustics described, he had two eyes, one nose, etc. The onlooker Rustics burst out laughing each time they saw the Strange Gentleman. They made fun of his appearance. Two eyes, one nose, two ears, etc., were definitely strange features in that land, and perfectly and validly fit the bill for causing him public embarrassment.

The Rustics clearly showed no signs of any future friendship. The Strange Gentleman, unintentionally, gave the Rustics a dose of lifetime worth mirth. 

The work for which the Strange Man had come for was finished with ample accuracy and concentration. Thus he returned to The City, never to be seen again. But his memory continued to entertain the Rustics at pre-siesta bonfire conversations. Time passed, and eventually the mirror was invented. One of the Rustics found a mirror floating in the river which came from the City. Since it shone like crystal, he assumed it to be crystal, and gathered everyone around to announce that he had discovered nothing but crystal! 

The mirror, as it was, thrust their own reflection into their eyes, when the Rustics gazed into it! And lo! They found themselves so much like the Strange Gentleman, whom they had once made fun of. Regret and melancholy enveloped their hearts, and two at a time, they committed suicide.

SURPRISE, BITCH!

Lemons are passé. Life may as well throw you bananas. What will you do then? 

It was the Christmas of 2012, just about three weeks after I had turned 19 (with much  fanfare and drumroll.) I was on an AIESEC internship to Malaysia for a community development project. Ours was a group of 15 interns from diverse lands. We had worked ourselves to pulp, and hence to celebrate Jesus’ birthday (hallelujah!), took a breather off to a town called Malacca. Now, Malacca was this non-mainstream, gem of a town, with a strong Portuguese influence from its colonial days. It was famous for its water inlets and pub streets.

We spent the whole of Christmas Eve in one of the pubs; discovering new drinking games. Soon, midnight came and the streets erupted with classic Xmas carols and we joined in the revelry. Slowly, almost everybody from the group retreated back to the guest house, and it was just the three of us left; Mark, Vay (Vaibhav; shortened to convenience foreign tongues,) and myself. We decided to roam around and explore. But it was 3 AM now, and people had already made themselves scarce. Disheartened, we passed empty streets through arrays of closed joints before we struck gold! Our pub from from the eve was still open! (Hallelujah!)

The three of us marched to the entrance door with relief and glory. (I remember wearing a t-shirt with "SWAG" printed loudly.)  The crowd was all chic and some great beats were playing in the background. Good vibes. One of us remarked on how this was going to be the best night in the entirety of our Malaysian trip.

Some free advice regarding the above statement. Never, I repeat NEVER make superlative claims on how great something is going to turn out. It will be jinxed. Trust me on this. Be optimistic, of course; but keep it to yourself. Saying it out aloud is music to the ears of your lifetime’s piled up bad Karma. 

Once inside, something seemed subtly odd. The lighting was dimmer than before. Shady. Fifty 'shadys' of grey. But, hey! A strange environment cannot stop three young men from having fun, right? Vay and Mark disappeared to scan the place, while I decided to be company to this lady who was sitting all by herself at the bar. 

With as much mojo as my inner baniya could summon at that short notice, I walked up to her and gave a casual, “Hi!” She turned towards me and smiled, and I looked into her eyes. HIS EYES! That was a man, elaborately dressed as a woman! (SURPRISE!) I looked around. Any and all signs of womanhood were actually men wearing drag! Vay came running and  informed that we-actually-might-be-in-a-gay-pub! But we were here just an hour ago! It was so normal then! We immediately made our way to the exit, (hallelujah!), but wait a minute. WHERE WAS MARK?

Now Mark, being all Dutch and exotic in an Asian country, had caught the fantasy of a man who apparently owned the place. The owner was flanked by two super-human bodyguards and multiple (drag) queens. Mark, signalled us to his table. We went; and along with Mark, were tried to be wooed through free drinks and inaccurate cheesy English. Yes, I was made passes upon by a 50-year-old-man and objectified by countless others around me. Not the kind of stuff you dream to check off your bucket-list, eh? I noticed the super-human bodyguards making their respective dibs on Vay and me. Scared for life would be an understatement here. As scared as we might be, we gulped the drinks that the owner kept getting us. Vay and I hinted at leaving, multiple times, but were defeated by angry stares of those two colossal bodyguards/creeps. 

Finally, Mark, on the pretext of changing into something more proper and smelling nicer got the three of us out, "We'll be right back.” We walked as fast as we could. Walk of shame. Then we ran. RAN FOR OUR LIVES.

(Hallelujah!)

Next day, over a breakfast of shrimp omelet and shandy, we wondered how a totally normal place turns all shady after midnight.

Do you remember yourself sulking on that particular Christmas? Atleast Santa got you better gifts than mine. Duh!

CONCRETE STORIES

       

"I will cross that bridge when I get there," he resolved to himself.

But he didn't.

And it doesn't matter. 

Because who is to know?

*    *    *

"She used to scrub the floors in one of those for years."

"Dull work."

"Not really."

"Umm?"

"Her son later bought her all of it."

*    *    *

    "Come see me. I am where we first met."

"One last time?"

"One last time."

*    *    *

LITERAL STORIES

She always knew she would save the world. But not today. 

Today, she needed a bit of saving of her own. Today, she needed to stand up to her bully.

Or maybe there was no bully. Because, in his defence, and rightly so, he was "just trying to pull her leg."

*    *    *

Our bodies should be our temple. His was his cage.

He was learning to break free from inhibition. And he did.

That day, he danced as if nobody was watching.

*    *    *

He didn't know the procedure. He had never inflicted pain on himself before. He would improvise, anyway.

There is good news too for all the religious people in the house. 

For all that is worth, he had joy written all over his face.

*    *    *

Goodbye, Goodbye

Have a look,

But do not stare;

My demons are contagious.

And I have seen them off for good.

How I wish we were vessels!

Our souls would leak as we wandered

In those punctured bodies, 

Leaving imaginary footprints across  globe.

 

Spilled wine and comfort food,

Manic indulgences in all things that we call life.

Permanent misfits and glimpses of charm school:

The proverbial fork in the road.

Toasting to yet another chapter of existence,

Us becoming worthier of us.

And still no pompous declarations of farewell,

Because here is a plain and lousy goodbye, goodbye.

Fall Already?

The pristine blueness

Of the morning sky,

The mystic coolness,

Of the breeze rushing past the rye.

The manifestation of sepia ,

In the leaves of every a tree.

The surge of freshness in the bronchia,

Effected by the winds of sea set free.

Everything suggests it is already fall,

Even the glow of the sun;

But season’s are not known to ignore time’a call

Whether it is winter or autumn or none…

Skewed Nation: Grey

The constipated pastor left out an air of relief; as the non-punctual groom limped hurriedly to his blushing bride. Soon she would officially become the happiest girl in the world. After all, he was the stuff that girls often dreamt of! He had promised to take all those lyrical pains away. Enough of the dark life. Things were now going to brighten up. Gods had specially sent him to put the stars back on her barren night sky.

The local news didn't report of any survivors from the ancient church whose building collapsed during some wedding ceremony.

Skewed Nation: Black

She was a young inhibited girl in a family of little or no means. She had never had friends. She wasn't unfriendly, but was too timid to talk to anybody. Somebody convinced her that sharing food helps make friends. So she took a leap of faith next day, and shared all her little food with a stranger. Voila! They became friends. She tried the trick again but with an another stranger. And it worked again! She was euphoric. She now had the secret that she had always longed for! She was soon trading away all her food for new acquaintances. The peak of social popularity was soon conquered. Everybody loved the food and her.

She died of malnutrition a few months later.

Skewed Nation: White

It was the last day of the year, and this man woke up to a sense of a mid-life crisis of sorts. He had been really judgemental of others since as long as he could remember. And this was burning a hole in his system of peace. No, he would not carry this negative trait to the next year, he decided. He made the necessary amends to his personality and thus started the new year with a thoroughly cleansed soul. He wasn't critical of people any longer and beat the urge to look for flaws. He accepted them as they were and even blessed them as they walked past him. The whole of humanity was welcomed with open arms, for the first time.

This was the single most career-wrecking New Year resolution in the life of a high-ranking and respected Judge.

Out Of My Head

Phew! Past couple of days have been turbulent; though not a bad turbulent. But you know, like a happy and chaotic one. I had been having some really diverse experiences and to put it plainly, a kick-ass Summer 2014! I travelled around a small fraction of Western Europe, and also made love to my bucket list in the process. (Which explains my sabbatical from writing.) 

*Time-to-rejoice-my-imaginary-loyal-readers!*

A heavily advertised airline hospitality brought me to my first destination, Paris. Everything about the city was so poetic. It was like an artist constantly at work. Creating and painting. Bringing to life every little detail. And the best part about Paris? It is so effortless! You just sit at the window of your ride and absorb the city. Paris will come to you on its own. And at that time, life will make perfect sense. The land of cheese and wine is dreamier than I had thought.

Next up, were three weeks of London, where instead of going touristy, I had a pure student life. Summer School, you see. I adapted to survive on the bare minimum amount of sleep and the London night scene was very encouraging in that respect! The classes were really proper and hunky-dory in the first week; but eventually those well- groomed hair gave way to bed-heads and those ever attentive eyes reeked of sleeplessness and last night's tales. I made some great new friends, and altogether it was the best time of my life in more ways than I can tell. Except the liver, all of me had a gala time in London!

What happens when some 20-year-old-Snapchat-and-Instagram-happy individuals go to ummm... TOMORROWLAND? Havoc. Pure social media havoc. Precisely. Up next on the itinerary was Belgium's crowning summer glory, Tomorrowland'14. Hands down, it was by far the craziest experience! It still feels surreal to be a part of world travellers, coming together to create one EDM haven. Tomorrowland was every bit as crazy as the hype is and even more! Designed like a fantasy, it literally owns you while you are there.

"It is your life. Make it legendary." Amen.

Belgium, otherwise, was a total surprise. I wonder why it is so understated here in India. Brussels's is an amazing city with an extreme aesthetic relevance and architectural prowess. And it had the warmest and the most helpful people that I came across on my entire trip.

My final destination was Amsterdam! Oh, Amsterdam! It is one of those few places which welcomes you with open arms and umm... open legs. I went there on a whim. I had no company and no reservations whatsoever. Got myself a ticket, and there I was! It was an adventure in the truest sense and I have some great stories from there. I ditched my phone's GPS for old-school paper maps. I realised that it is very important to stop a little and talk to people. Amsterdam has the most fascinating liberal culture and I still am completely in love with it!

Aren't we always pressed to think outside the box? You know, thinking of something out from the ordinary. Taking a cue, why can't we live out of our heads once in a while? Why do we spend so much time inside those things that we call skulls? We need to loosen up. We don't have to take life so seriously all the time. There is a lot to be discovered and the time is running out! As much as Hollywood-ish it may sound, we must travel to discover ourselves. Renew ourselves. Because sometimes, the greatest secrets lay within than without. Don't they?

STRANGE PEOPLE FROM THE FUTURE

Meeting an old friend, 

After a long, long time

Is like sending yourself a 

Postcard.

Only that it gets lost,

Somewhere in the middle.

And wanders off with mails

Of other destinations.

It is in transit for years and years,

And soon you doubt, 

That in the first place,

Was it even sent?

It only thrives on memory,

Resting in the unfrequented corners

Of your evolving mind.

It is an unparalleled proof,

Of the good old days. 

It is that funny nostalgia

Which appeals to all

The Five Senses.

It is like that treasure,

From a different lifetime.

One stormy day 

It does finally arrive,

Bringing the essence

Of all the fine places it has absorbed.

To be greeted, however

Not by familiar faces.

Instead, cherished and celebrated

By, for all that is worth,

Strange people from the future.

RAT'S ASS

In crowded hallways and all places public, we have all had intense eye-contact moments. With random strangers. Sometimes we ignore. Many times we are creeped out. Other times we are game. For a session of hot and reciprocated stare. Okay, no heat, but reciprocation, yes. And as scientists who have closely observed social behaviour in Antarctica, suggest, we might go down in history as level amateur bad-ass people. (There, there, hold your champagnes yet.)

My peanut of a brain has rigged images of bad-assery for me. I am sure you will relate. Think bad-ass. Think Bear Grylls. Think Bruce Willis. Or Seal Team Six, anybody? Think Evey Hammond. Or Uma Thurman. Think Bane. Think Lara Croft. Or Walter White. (Breaking Bad-ass.) Random thought number one: Notice the lack of hair in half the people here.

You don't actually have to be bad and live on the edge to be badass. Free-spirited and having an eye for adventure in life's tiniest details works. Listening to your inner Beelzebub can be fun sometimes. But only a little, because you sure don't want to deal with Karma later. It is good to be careless and not give a shit sometimes.

It is okay to pose stupid for the CCTVs. Bunk classes. Dress inappropriately. Venture into restricted places. Sneak out. Manage multi-personalities. Pull practical pranks. Guys will understand this; use a urinal which is next to an occupied one, in an otherwise empty row of urinals. *Urinal politics gone wrong, anyone?*

Be careful of other imposter asses. Here's a small walk-through that will help. You took the pills your vet prescribed? Sick-ass. Literally. You bought Apple shares when they were cheap? Smart-ass. You got upgraded to Business Class at no extra charge? Lucky-ass. You pelted stones at Yuvi's house over some World Cup? Dumbass. You took a selfie in the loo and shared it all over internet? Insta-ass. Yes, I like all my puns intended.

Random thought number two: Doesn't selfie seem like a legit euphemism? I gave myself a quickie or ummm...selfie! Think about it.

Don't confuse innocent badassery for notoriety. You don't want to be that prick who is conveniently hated. Don't get personal and more importantly, don't be a badass at somebody else's expense. 

Being bit of a badass will add to your charm. It is like a crooked next level of a good sense of humour. A tinge of bad-assery will take you a long way. And so will those heavily endorsed extra-mile fuels. Same pinch, huh?

WANDERLUST

There is funny solace

In length of the road

And the breath of destination.

If I could be anybody

I would be a secret, 

Kept alive by centuries of tradition; 

Native to some,

And yet mystery to most.

I want to see everything,

Be everyone,

And get lost in my own translation.

If I finish soon

And if it's not too late,

Then take me home.

Seventh World Problems

Almost there.

Delusional Diaries: Zero Zero One

One of these days Martin Scorsese will be sworn as the President. But, until that happens, I'll have to contain my feelings. Probably riding a unicorn in cowboy attire, the way I do, will help display my emotions. Joyous emotions. And of course, to know that Scarlett Johansson has finally accepted my dinner proposal, will give me two things to look forward to now.  

One plus one reasons for celebration, that is. Two toasts. Martin and Scarlett Johansson. One for Prez and the other for dinner. I mean to have dinner with. That was honestly by mistake. Not a dig at the gourmet cannibal community. Who, in their right mind, would want to offend the cannibals?

Whatever Makes You Happy

No, this post is not about the book with which it shares its title. Yes, that is a great book though, and totally recommended. No, I won't let you borrow it. Yes, you might find it on Amazon. Might. That's the word. Anyway.

There are blunderous combinations of flesh and blood. And then, there are people. Real people. Flesh and blood alright, but immensely real. Now, why I love this real lot is because they are always on their personal pursuits of happiness. Isn't that what life is all about? Wasn't that the lesson our wisemen and women from history trying to shove into our heads?

Being happy is not rocket science. Moreover, our quest for it need not be long-term. Instant, impulsive and unplanned happiness is always good news. Yeah, that's my big haul from two-oh-one-three! Do what makes you feel good in the moment. It is worth defying logic and rationale. It is the right thing to do. And it has to be done. More often. Squeezed. Until it ceases to make you happy. No second thoughts. 

One of the most cheerful words that you will ever come across. Happy. Dream is more cheerful but then aren't they both same in essence!

Whatever makes you happy needs to be done right now. Unless of course, if you are Al Qaeda. Then that would suck. Totally!

Un-Indian Shenanigan

So, in all my headphoned glory, I was on a routinely evening run in the park, when this wild black cat suddenly crosses my path. 

Actually, it was brown! Or grey. Some shade of orange, I think! Damn you colour-blindness!