i can be your superman?!

i got sick of all the green..so i shifted blogs agen..http://deathinallitsbeauty.blogspot.com....

GAY AND PROUD!

this is a temporary state of mind..i know i know..but i have to account for it here as a dutiful blogger..the last 2 days have just been one laugh aftr another..not that anything changed..im still lonely n unemployed n ugly..but jeez for some reason been so freakin happy all d time..dont even feel like writing nayhtng coz it alwyz brings out the sadness..for those of u in the know ive just finished the gist of the novel thingy n im sending it tommo..if thngs go well my novel shld b published by end july or septembr..and..yes theres an and..a collection of novellas..like 4 small novellas in one book wch i think will come out lil sooner..like may or somethng..i guess theyll see wht kind of a response it gets n then decide if they shld publish the novel but i cldnt care less.if they decide not to i guess i cn convince somebdy else to publish it seeing as how i already hav one publication n all..but thats not really why im happy..i think its coz i havnt drunk in 2 days..wch is bcoz i scared myself shitless last time..did some very stupid and regrettable things..had a nice long talk wt my baby n i think some serious changes r underway..stopped stubbing my ciggies out on myself for one..lets see how long it lasts..

SOME KINDA LIST THING

hey this is like this list making exercise i found on some chinky chicks blog. dunno if theyre gonna sure me for copywrite violation or anythng but it kinda helped cheer me up. dint feel like another depressing rant. for those not familiar, bold means been there, done that, italics mean I’d like to , the rest I don’t really care about doing.


Stayed up all night and watched the sunrise
Honestly believed that I’ve been deeply in love with each and every single person I’ve ever been with.
Hugged a tree.
Done a striptease-
Bungee jumped
Played cops and robbers.
Watched a lightning storm at sea.
Gone to a huge sports game
Slept under the stars – fuckin pissed on something evrytime.really wanna do it sober once.
Changed a baby's diaper
Been to a psychic-
Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
Gotten drunk on champagne
Believed in ghosts -id honestly like to its something to do.
Given more than you can afford to charity
Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment stoned stoned stoned though giggling sounds kinda girly
Taken a sick day when you're not ill thatslike my favourite kind of sick day
Asked out a stranger and got rejected miserably most times
Photocopied your bottom on the office photocopier.-at class actually.we hav a machine sitting in the room for some reason so v xerox evrythng n anythng
Screamed as loudly as you possibly can. i was actually singing along at a concert
Taken a midnight skinny dip.
Taken an ice cold bath nearly died too
Ridden a roller coaster-ridden?
Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking.--me kinda self concious
Adopted an accent for an entire day . fuck ive alwyz wanted to do that but i suck at accents
Visited the birthplace of your ancestors they dont mean like dinosaurs right?
Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment. not in a long time though
Loved your job for all accounts. nope nope
Taken care of someone who was shit faced. wenvr i do this ppl puke on my shoes .alwyz on my shoes.what is with that??
Had enough money to be truly satisfied -i doubt money can make me truly satisfied anywy.plkus im nevr satisfied. i suck.
Had amazing friends its kinda trick question isnt it i mean if u say no then evn ur existing friends r gonna fuck off n leave u alone
Stolen a sign memories, memories. also the registartion plate off some accident dudes car wch i hung on my wall n then that got whacked from my falt when we threw a party along wt some denims.
Taken a road-trip
Milked a cow goat actually.want to try ducks haha.
Sung karaoke in a gropu though like sitting around not on stage or anyhtng
Lounged around in bed all day
Played in the rain.
Got high and jumped in puddles when random strangers walked by.--who does that??
Done something you should regret, but don't regret it
Fallen in love and not had your heart broken --dont want to either.
Gotten married- oh yeah im married thats y im up nights watching porn.jeez.
Been in a movie -been in an ad wen i was 7.had to cycle around sankhumugam beach on a bloody ladies cycle wt santa claus chasing me .not cool.
Crashed a party
Loved someone you shouldn't have. ive nevr regretted loving anyone. wait. no. maybe. i dunno.
Kissed someone so passionately it made them dizzy --do i even care?
Made cookies from scratch –is cookies like a metaphor?
Gotten a tattoo
Gotten my belly pierced..hmmm..
Gotten flowers for no reason -there really should b seperate quizzes for guys n girls n the in-betweens.
Been addicted to some form of illegal drug -if its a legal drug then i dont think addiction is an issue is it.
Performed on stage
Watched fireworks from the sky and cried cos it was unbearably amazing--oh yeah coz fireworks..sob..are just so..sob..saaaaad..boohoooo....
Eaten shark
Had a one-night stand – technically no. dont really want to either surprisingly.
Been on a cruise ship.yea but dint cruise. just saw off sis n broin law on honeymoon.
Downed 18 shooters, scaled the wall in a skirt to get into my house cos I was locked out, and then faced ppl who wanted to cut our electricity, all in a span of 6 hours.---thats extremely specific isnt it. though i like wearing skirts. n shooters. n jumping walls.
Spoken more than one language fluently.
Followed your favorite band/singer on tour ..i would but shes not doing gigs just yet. (heh tht ones for u baby!)
Picked up and moved to another city to just start over to be with the one you love – well yea but it was coz she forced me so i cld get off the drugs.n shes my mom .ahem.
Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking.-also stuck my naked butt out the window countless times.in college first year down mahabs .fuck the feel of salty air in ur buttcrack.oh yeah.
Had plastic surgery
Said 'I love you' and meant it.
Said 'I love you' and not meant it.
Broken someone's heart – so she sez.
Been fired or laid off from a job...i tried.
Broken a bone .
Ridden a motorcycle – im quite bad though
Driven any land vehicle at a speed of greater than 100mph.
Done it in the woods and on the beach
Had 2 (or more) healthy romantic relationships for over a year in your lifetime – i can honestly say i dont want more than one healthy relationship. only one .
Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about.--sex, drugs, drinking, bunking class, going to bangalore, not coming back from bangalore..
Gotten someone fired for their actions...i nevr do that
Dined in a restaurant and stolen silverware, plates, cups because your apartment needed them. flick ashtrays all d time. tho i nevr dine in restaurants. bars u mean.
Been a DJ there was no table though. just flipped tracks for the nite.
Smoked a cigarette. im totally dying to .it seems so super-cool!!!!!
Crashed a friend's car
Been in love– i might be incurable.
Been dumped
Snuck out of your parent's house –
Been arrested–yeah chennai cops r sweethearts though if u cn talk. one tea one smoke n theyre happy. mallu cops r bastards.
Gone on a blind date mkore like a gang date though.
Flown a kite .
Built a sand castle.
Made mud pies by the dozen...whaaa?
Collected slugs in a jar and put them in the fridge cos I didn’t know what to do with them - holy shit ive done exactly that thats crazy.
Cheated while playing a game – isnt that the point?
Been lonely. this ones unique.
Fallen asleep at work/school sometimes i stay up too.
Made a term paper presentation while I was out-of-my-mind high was a time when wed only write our paperas aftr a joint. yeah n lots of seminars totally posted.
Been robbed – umm im thug nigga
Been misunderstood –
Run a red light.

Liked the way you look. i used to think i was damn cool actly.
Questioned your heart.
Been obsessed with post-it notes ..seriosly?
Felt like dying – its a way of life.
Cried yourself to sleep..not really a crying person me.
Made prank phone calls.
Written a letter to Santa Claus --oh no see im middle class indian. the third world has no santa claus. not unless ur millionaire types. n i was a smart kid.
Sung in the shower
Had a dream that you married someone -yeah. didnt freak me out either.
Sat on a roof top actually traveled abt 3 kilometres sitting on prabhus car roof. good old batman.
Talked on the phone for more than 4 hours..in a day yeah.
Jumped into a pool/hot tub/lake with all your clothes on with my hallticket in my pocket. pool party some beach house. fucked a semester and my mobile phone.
Laughed so hard you cried...wts wt these guys n crying?
Had a fantasy about someone you love as a good friend.
Studied Bharatnatyam 2 weeks aite just 2 weeks n i was like 4 yrs old. my sis wouldnt do it unless i fucking did it n she gets her way all the time.
Been able to live without your mobile phone for a day in your normal life --weeks, months, who gives a shit really.

OF DEATH AND DIGRESSIONS

life heads steadily downhill..the same boring speed, sober god ever steady on the accelerator, im not even allowed the exhilaration of a bumpy ride..nothings changed and nothing will..not in that respect anyway..i wonder where itll all end though..where will i be when i finally crash and burn..? maybe ashes dont collect, they just flutter n flirt n float away..so in a way ill be all over the place at the end..wch is kinda ironic becoz all my life ive spent dying to get out of the one place i seem to be stuck in..

or maybe there will be no crashing or burning..maybe the end will be as predicatable as the journey..i'll just watch the fuel drain away, millilitre by agonizing millilitre becoz u dont burn litres when ur moving at a snails pace..till one fine day, the fuel guage is well past borderline red, theres nothing left to survive on..and the bloody vehicle will come to a geriatric halt, stuttering and gasping for breath, an end as boring as life itself, as inevitable as night and day..

how will it be though i wonder? what will the spark be? im counting on lung cancer, or something else cigarette-induced..liver sclerosis is another possibility, though i'll have to up my drinking curve a tad higher to get there before i hit 22..it'll be quite a loss if its nothing at all..if i just die of old age..go to sleep one day and nevr wake up..after twenty-one years of this shit, surley im entitled to an exciting death..? something that will make people go, 'how terrible! and at such a young age too'..

an exciting possibility would be a drunken accident..that would be quite awesome..ram car into something at some wrteched hour of the night(night definitely, theres something comically ridiculous about dying in daylight)..or maybe ill have a drunken brawl in a bar n somebdy will knock me out cold..with a beer bottle..no wait..i'll pick a fight wt a street thug and he'll stab me to death wt his favourite knife..that would b something for the mallu media.."MALAYALEE YOUTH KILLED IN DRUNKEN BRAWL" the papers will scream..i can just imagine the headlines..all my life nobodys given a shit but all of kerala will mourn for the death of another misguided youngster from the esteemed state..

i dont think i have the guts to kill myself..or maybe i just havnt been pushed hard enuff..hmm that would throw up some intereting possibilities..poison? veins chopped up like chop suey? sleeping pills? a gun would be really cool if i could get my hands on one..on an OD..how cool that would be..i could write down a note syaing im gonna kill myself..then keep taking ridiculous amounts of heroin..my babylove..n jot down wht im thinking every second, as long as my body lets me anywy..itd be like a written journal of the last hours..and a detailed description of the highest anyones ever got..years later pushers will use it as advertising material for good old smack..it could be cult literautre too..copyrighted by someone incongruos ..hell, maybe my dad could copyright it and get royalties on it or somthng evrytime it sells..itd be kinda cruel though hes nevr cared for money anwy..but i like the cult literature idea..all my life ive searched n searched for somebdy who gets wt im about..in death id find my kindred souls..itd be something circulated among hard-core users only..not that all junkies r alike or anything..hmm actually the way drugs r becoming a fucking fad, the ppl who'll end up reading it r probably stupid college kids 'experimenting' at a dumb party or somthng..thatd be a bitch but im sure itd find its way to the real people too..so in a way id live on, high after high..what will be pissing off though will be the 'responsible' parent groups who will consider it their duty to draw the inevitable comparisons and parallels with rockstars who killed themselves, and cliche the fuck out of me..even in death theyd want me to be part of a crowd..nevr leave me alone, these people..

howevr it may come, it cant possibly be soon enough..as for the right now, im heading lower n lower..going down down down..wheres my blaze of glory?

RANDOM REALIZATIONS

todays been a day of realizations. not a learning experience kinda one because i'll never learn. but random realizations, yes. things i know now and will forget tomorow and learn agen some other drunken march evening. but first things first.

today i realized that my only real friends are named baliga and crap and those are not even their real names and theyre not even real people.

today i realized at my IELTS exam that you dont need six months of TIME classes or a tutored british accent to ace an english exam.

today i realized that evrybody yearns to be free. that evrybodys pissed off by authority. im pissed off by the omnipotent, the omniscient. my drinking buddy is pissed off by cops and morality. my moms pissed off that her son isnt all that the fortune teller promised he would be. eddie vedders pissed off that he can make awesome music for a zillion years but he'll nevr put the media in the kind of daze that kurt cobain put them in bcoz the mortality of death, the impulsiveness of suicide will alwyz be more beautiful than the immortality of genius. my dads pissed off that all he wanted my mom to be isnt all he needed because shes done it all n hes not happy, hes still wanting, wheres my dream woman? my sisters pissed that all her first ranks and hard work will not translate themselves into a bludgeoning career if she keeps having babies like she does. i realized that vre all pissed off at something or the other, that we'll find somethng else that pisses us off when what we have is obliviated bcoz some things nevr change.

today i realized that for all the pride i take in my manhood, all the meaningless hue and cry feminists raise over the need for equality, we will alwys be a culture dictated by the mighy vagina because the baddest evillest cruellest motherfucker in the world will think twice before bringing a tear to his mothers eyes; that men will alwyz be less equal becoz we're simply not capable of emotional blackmail, and even if we were women would nevr fall for it like we do.

today i realized that im in love with the most beautiful person in the world, that i have a responsiblity to nevr scar her, a responsibility that scares the shit out of me, something that i know im not capable of.

today i realized that its ok to be broke if in ur mind u live like a king, that being the elevnth indian to get on the forbes list of billionaires will not make up for time lost or hurtful things said. that there r somet hings money cant buy, but the things it can buy r awesome too.

a second ago i realized that i only realize meaningful things when im drunk or stoned or both and that cant be a good thing but who gives a shit anywy.

a little earlier i realized that i suck in so many ways, in most ways in fact, but ill alwyz be special and cool and loved and taken care of by people who love me becoz most times, most times, thats all that matters-love.

ABOUT A BOY

What kind of a boy am I? I'm a petty, petty boy, the kind who's so petty that he finds his pettiness quite thrilling; the kind who'll push all limits to see how petty he can be, how much pettiness he can get away with. So say hurtful things to my ever-well-meaning parents I will, use the guile and treachery of twenty-first century metrosexual double-entendre on my faultless unsuspecting girlfriend I will, poke fun of fashion faux-pas('s?) I will, revel in my own pettiness I will.

What kind of a boy am I? I'm the oldest tewnty-one year old boy in the world, I'm also the youngest twenty-one year old boy in the world. I'm the kind of boy who writes paragraph after meaningless paragraph about himself on a medium as transient as the internet at and harbours dreamy dreams of publishing a novel about degeneration, directing a movie about death and smoking celebrity hookahs in arty-farty cafes in amsterdam with adoring female fans; all this at an age when his father sported thick moustache and sweated bullets at work to put food on the family table. Does the boy in question feel guilty? No because this boy is incapable of concience; this boy still finds it cool to waste away his life on drugs and alcohol, this boy thinks he's urban-bohemian-cool coz he wears psychedelic kurtas and quotes tagore, this boy truly believes his discman can see him through the worst life can throw at him, this boy's biggest achievement in twenty-one years is the goatee he wears with pride.

But this post isnt really about me. It wasnt intended to be anyway. The purpose of this post was to review a book I just finished-'About A Boy' by Nick Hornby, an author I hate on principle. I hate a lot of people but the reasons are normally unclear, even to myself. Some I hate because they wear tight pants, some I hate coz their denims are too baggy, some I hate because they know more women than I do, some I hate because they irritate me. But Nick Hornby I hate on principle.

I hate Nick Hornby because he's unabashedly pulp, and he revels in how pulp he is. I hate Nick Hornby because there are too many calculated pop references in his novels, references calculated to make u go "shit i feel the same way about that song/movie/celebrity." He sprinkles his references all over the place, and they creep up unaware on you till you live the life of his characters. He does it with elan; to do it, he sinks to levels of pettiness my own esteemed self will nevr allow me to explore, and I hate him for it. Reading his novels is like a head-on pettiness competion with him, and I'm always losing. I hate Hornby because his novels are basically chick-flick material, but theyre the kind of chick flicks that guys would want to watch(albeit on the sly), the kind that makes us go, "shit, that's sooo me." I hated him when I read his other best-seller, 'High Fidelity' and I hate him after reading About A boy.

But his novels I loved. Both novels, I devoured page after page, cant-take-my-eyes-off-you-esquely, in one sitting each. Because his novels are extremely likeable. High Fidelity was briliiant and funny and left you with that wierd feeling in your guts, and so did About A Boy. I actually watched the movie version(About A Boy-Hugh Grant) about two years ago and I didnt like it much, but I didnt want to like High fidelity the movie either. But reading the book, I have to say Hugh Grant did a helluva job; I can totally visualise him doing evry single thing thirty-six year old Will does in the book. The other important character is twelve year old loner, Marcus, resident wierdo and troubled child who befriends Will. Will in fact reminds me a lot of myself, just like the guy in High Fidelity did, and I wonder if its a common phenomenon, or maybe Hornby and I are brothers seperated at birth. Will is a cool guy, self-sufficient, and selfish, and the characters evolve and communicate and make friends with each other with such fluidity that its hard to believe theyre not real people. I hate spoliers, so Im not going to goive the story away, but its a great read. I love how its titled 'About A Boy', which could be a reference to either Marcus or Will, because they're both boys really, one by age, the other by choice.

I dont really know how to end this, now that I've raved about a book who's author I hate on principle. (I may have mentioned that earlier) So I'll go back to the begining, namely, moi.

What kind of a boy am I? I'm the kind of boy who's so petty he wont let his admirtaion for a novel(two, actually) come in the way of his hatred for the author, because principles are not to be fucked with. I'm the kind of boy who's so petty he has principles. Beat that, Mr. Hornby.

THREE YEAR ITCH

Do you love me because I need you or do you need me because I love you?

HMMMMMM..............

so ive found my calling..my calling is to be a failure..dont laugh it away just yet..its quite a compelling profession once u read thru the job description..but before u do.. whats the alternative to being mainstream? being 'different right'? if ur not a commercial success, ur 'experimenting'..if ur not a doctor or an mba or an engineer, ur 'unique', u become a movie-maker or writer of chef..what abt people who r no good at these things then? think hard..what is the most hard-to-come-by specimen of people in post-privatised-education india? failures, man, failures. look around u evryones a glittering success story, stuff forbes and business-world r made of..whatevr happ to good old failures? that pre-historic anciest non-existent species of burnt out men n women, underachievers, losers..u hardly see them around anymore..wch is why, which is exactly why ive decided, hell ima preserve the multi-achievemental diversity of it all by being a pioneering failure..a father figure for all no-gooders to follow..a model disaster for future alcoholics, druggies and dyslexics to emulate..the father-failure..

its an awesome idea..theres nothing i do better..evrythng i touch turns to shit..when ive given in an exemplary answerpaper, the teachers empties her septic tank on me..when i do something thoughtful my girlfriend has second thoughts abt us, when i clean up my room my mom wants to know wht grade narcotic i ahve hidden away..so why not amke a career of it..? its risk free coz the chances of failure only make my goals more attainable..n u hav to admit im damn good at it..

from today, my time will be spent un-constructively..my waking hours in the bar, my sleeping hours in the lavatory, the in-between in contemplation of what further misery i can pile on myself..when my shoulders r too tired from carrying the world around ill smoke a joint and pick it up n over my head..when my arms look healthy agen ill puncture them wt my ciggie..when my soul is sobbing ill poke fun n call it a cry-baby...

on a less cheerful note, i hate myself but ive come to terms with it..its a setback for my newly acquired vocation but im sure i can bring me down to normalcy in a couple of hours.,.i heard neighbours r visting n queries abt wht im doin n wht i plan to do wt the next ten years ought to filter out any closure the last eight hours of drinking have managed to bring about..

till then..rust in peace n think of agony...hells waiting..

AND I WAIT, WITHOUT YOU

Remember this brilliant scene in 'notting hill' when theyre all sitting together n discussing whos the biggest loser among them all..?world famous hollywood actress winning the 'loser's brownie' thanks to the loneliness at the top and dietary constraints was pushing it a bit but the concept was fantastic coz its sooo late 1990s..its so identifiable with..its what we do when we're drinking wt our best friends..we dont really discuss sex or careers, bcoz we dont hav glorious sex-capades or shining career prospects..we're all losers n we've all lost out on one thing or the other so we bitch n whine n cry abt our sorry lives...

hav to mention how in awe of british literature, theatre, movies i am simply bcoz theyve managed to convert understatement into un art form..theyre bloody brilliant! i love how its almost going to rain in england, how evrybdys so boring at first appearance n how evrythings so gloomy n hopeless..i think those dark evenings of my childhood must hav sort of set the tone for the rest of my life..i hav no qualms in saying this n i dont care if i sound like johny levr in kuch kuch hota hain...id love to go back to england to study or work or wtvr..i miss that place so bloody much..there atleast u could b lonely n not be the only one..

so its a perfectly pissed off day like alwys n its arnd aftrnoon, so ive just manged to muster enough strenthg n shake off enough sleep to start hating myself agen, wen i find to myself that suddenly i cant. suddenly i hate evrything n evrybdy else more than myself, i find myself blaming the rest of the world for my unfortunate existence. im also a little surprised..so what is my stand now? i hate myself? i dont hate myself? but i hate the world? much like a rockstar who has woken up one morning n found out the bad childhood thing is out, he has to find a new thing, n an albums out in 2 days. haha. fuck u rockstars too. v're all posers. anyway, so here i am in the throes of a rather serious existential crisis, and my friend messages me saying, "im reading this book n i just love this line in it:'in india evrything is recycled. even dreams'" that was just the limit. i mean here i am trying to solve the most important problem in the world, namely mine, and she wants to wax eloquent on a piece of rhettoric trash, the origins or meaning of which im sure mr. tharoor himself has no idea. i mean seriosuly, it doesnt evn make sense.

first of all, nothing is recycled in india, certainly not enuff stuff for breezy generalizations like that. secondly, if its supposed to be metaphorical-and almost anything can be twisted into shape to sound meaningful 'metaphorically'-it still doesnt make sense. what is the metaphor here? thirdly, if what hes trying to say is that our even our dreams are the products of previous dreams or somebody elses dreams, well bit too late for that isnt it? i mean rolling stone magazine said that in the 70's in an article titled "pop will eat itself", a phrase later immortalised by one of the coolest indie bands of all time, of the same name, PWEI. so, yeah culture, art, fiction, evrythng pop, is recycled and made over, yes, mr. tharoor, we get it, very smart, but next time, spare us both the crappy intellectualisation and abstarction of a recycled idea...

later in the evening, when i could take being at home nomore,(tv on at full blast, grand mom lecturing on the lack of spirituality in my life, maid seated happily on the floor in the middle of the lviing room, guffawing at mohanlals antics, phone ringing incessantly somewhere, sis messaging merrily from my mobile, clearly not understanding the concept of 'one-time-favour', a pressure cooker farting in the back ground, somebodys dog chasing the watchman around the lane, an exhibitionist on my coconut tree, showing more than he was plucking) off i went to the british library. how do i describe the pleasure of reading in silence? sheer joy. but all good things r really bad things in disguise so abt an hour later, just as i stretched out n settled comfortably into my now homely chair for another two hours of reading "life isnt all heeheehaha"(not a bad book, i might add, not the same british-indian crap, funny n nice n i nevr like women authors, meera sayyal i think her name was, same woman that wrote 'anita and i' wch i dint read and dont intend to) this couple, a woman and a man, a mole and moustache respectively their most noticeable features, wall me into a human testament to social inadequacy. i have no idea who these people r, where theyre from, but of course i say, 'yes' dutifully to 'u remebr us?" question 2 : "well tell us our names then."

what the hell? what r the chances of that happening really? who in the world asks u what their names r aftr uve just told them with obvious difficulty and blatant dishonesty(im a very unconvincing liar). apparently, these people do. so v play the awkward stare game for like an eternity, and i say, we're not really allowed to talk here, its a library. the end. byebye wierd couple who hang out in libraries together. haha. but wait. theyve got a hand each behind my elbows. before i can scream 'kidnap' im forced thru the glass doors n into the great wide open. noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo i scream silently, why me?! to follow was thirty minutes of conversation about the most interesting of topics, moi. i fended questions abt my future, my past, my present, what i do in my spare time, my skin care regime, why my pants r so loose, are these ur fathers pants, why r ur pants so friggin loose wierd kid, are these ur dads pants, would i like to hav dinner wt them. i spun on my heels n ran..

on the bus random strangers took turns using the ends of my favourite (and only) (and brand new)(theyre off-white and corduroy-material and two sizes too big, a 36)pair of cargos as a foot-mat. poor common people, what wt the rain and all, their slippers mustve been uncomfy wt the dirt n all. i didnt even wince. i just thanked god for the torrential rain(temprture went upto 36 yestrday) threatening to torpedo the bus over and mourned inwardly the rape of my virginal whites. those cargos will nevr be the same again.

mom not home yet(she's here for the weekend, couple of meetings to inaugrate, few meet-the-presses and oh yeah, couple of minutes wit me. yay!!) so i light up a furtive smoke, and her car honks in the background. i chuck the ciggie n attack the loo with my depleted resources of deo, somebody give me a gun. do u know how hard it is to chuck a much-wanted smoke after one solitary drag? its what little george bush must have felt like when he was eight and the aliens that abducted him surgically removed left ball. but seriously, all this crap about bush coming down? personal like or dislike aside, how would we react if a visit of manmohan singhji to any country for that matter was greeted so distastefully by its citizens? we r a country that professes impractical doctrines like 'adhithi devobhava' (a guest is like god) and since nonsensical hindi doctrines and a bunch of assorted sexual positions r our lasting contributions to world history, maybe we should stick by them. seriouly, manners, people!

its 230 am sunday. god, church at nine. mom, grandmom, sis, grumpy driver n me , all of us cramped in bloody lancer. a lorry wouldnt have enough air for all of us to breathe. and obviosuly grandmom will need more air than usual coz my smoking in her loo(my loo, but shes using it now, i pee under the coconut tree, earlier climbed by coconut-tree-climber of exhibitionist tendencies, rembr i mentioned?) has stroked her asthma into full-blown erection agen, plus all the shouting for being late will require lots of excess oxygen. not cribbing but i dont get why its so important that we make it to mass exactly on time. ive been waiting twenty-one years-and -ounting for Him to make his presence felt.

THE YIN-YANG FALLACY

im a firm believr in the 'men n women can nevr be friends' theory..i dont even want to elaborate coz so many cheap flicks have made it their central theme n completely candyflossed what is pretty much THE truth about gender-bonding..ok in a word, men n women can nevr be friends because theres always sex lurking around the corner..

today however im at somewhat of a crossroad..are there exceptions to the rule? because surely there must b women whom i cant b sexually attracted to..what about obese women, bald women, midgets, chicks with dicks..? id nevr b attracted to these women right..yeah yeah im shallow so fuck me..but in all honesty, certainly its possible to be friends wt these women..does that leave out all attractive women then? am i really incapable of being friends wt beautiful women? if sex is a possibility, then yes, i guess. but there are attractive, intelligent, funny, compassionate women who im not atracted to surely? not on a physical level i mean? and i know im not going to fall in love with one, so that means i can be friends right?

thats what i thought too till recently. but apparently, my own convictions played themselves out in somebody elses head. apparently, there is no real possibility of being friends wt a girl. coz if its not sex, its something else. its girlfriends, its hang-ups, its differences. being friends is just not a possibilty. yin-yang doesnt quite work on platonic levels so ur either a couple or ur not. theres no go-between.