Date-Rape. Parties. and the shit that is.

31st Dec. Come party time, and lecherous bastards all round the world are ready to jump at the opportunity. It happens every year. Every time. Everywhere.
Its the sick phenomenon of DATE-RAPE.

I call it a phenomenon, coz its not just another incident, its not just another crime - its a process of social behaviour that's growing day by day. With more and more acceptance of alcohol as a lifestyle product and its accepted overuse at celebrations, date rape is becoming a well known 'accident'.

I don't find it odd that every third woman i know (who drinks) has experienced date-rape at some level - maybe untoward advances, groping, fondling or rape itself. What i find odd is their laid-back attitude towards it. They behave as if nothing happened! And that's what is encouraging bastards to keep going!

If every woman thinks its a matter of shame to report/act against the person, what is going to stop them? It becomes an exceptionally difficult situation for young girls - especially those who drink outside, but don't let their parents know about it (which i guess is pretty much the majority in our country). Coz they cant tell their parents or the cops that they have been raped/abused - coz they fuckkin cant tell them that they have been drinking. On top of that we live in a country where society still believes the shit that "if a woman is abused, it is probably because she provoked it!".

Today, the Maharashtra government has claimed that a cartel is illegally distributing ketamine hydrochloride, popularly known as the date rape drug.
For those who do not know, Ketamine is a medicinal drug used as a veterinary anaesthetic, but its abuse as a date rape drug has gained notoriety in Europe, the US, south-east Asia and India.
So i guess that leaves us with plenty of potential victims this party season - WHAT A WAY TO BEGIN A NEW YEAR! (link to news article - http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/India/Cartel_selling_date_rape_drugs_in_Mumbai/articleshow/2656701.cms)

For those who blame the government for the trafficking of the drug, STOP IT! Drugs cant do anything to you until they get to you. And its your stand towards the situation that matters more here. On an Individual basis.

Women... What can be done?
First and foremost - if you have to party - party with people you trust. It's always better to keep yourself in company of some of your most trusted female friends around too. (Kind of friends who can really kick ass helps better)

Second, even if your drink is not spiked you can get messed up. So drink in moderation as far as possible. DO NOT get yourself so sloshed that you cant remember when you stripped your clothes off and went dancing on the table.

Third, if an 'incident' takes place, REPORT it. A few days of shame is any day better than a lifetime of guilt and regret.

and finally my favourite option - if possible, SMASH the bastard so bad that he never even thinks of trying it again.

--- i guess that'll be all i can say for now.
Take care, party well... and HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! :D

Speed Tears

10 A.M.
I hop into my workplace with this wide moronic grin plastered across my face. People wonder why im smiling at the beginning of the day with no apparent reason. The confused receptionist has already named me 'atrangi', meaning 'wierdo' in marathi.

What these people miss to notice, is the fast fading streak of tears from my eyes, that make a moist line towards my temple. No, they arent the sad, cranky, wistful tears. I havent been crying.

They are what I have come to call SPEED TEARS.

9.30 A.M
I'm late. I'm droopy. And I'm naked in the bathroom screaming for a towel.
I have half an hour. Half an hour to dress up, have my milkshake, put on my shoes and reach my work place thats a 25 minute bike ride from home.

9.45 A.M.
I'm almost done. Ready to get off to work. The milk is still trickling down the edge of my lips when i wipe it off and reach for my helmet.
I waddle down to the ground floor. I put on my helmet. I turn the keys, switch it on, and it roars to life.
My bike's got to save the day again!

9.52 A.M
I crawl out of the traffic ridden in roads and reach the circle. The signal guards the highway lies straight ahead. I inch my way through, to the fore of the traffic that's rearing to go.
The cross lane halts. I rev my engine.

RED. RED. RED. GREEN!
vrrrrrroooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmm!
I'm off. Streaking way ahead of the rest. Almost on a single wheel when i break off. The machine cuts a neat lead at 70 kmph. The wind brushes past me, filling the helmet with air.

The Open Road.
This is where it begins. A stupid smile makes its way across my face as i switch gears to the 5th.The longest stretch of open road that i encounter everyday begins to blur thru the visor.Every bump, every crevice of this road is pre-mapped in my mind. Visibility is not much of a question here.

80 kmph.
The wind tears harder and harder across me as i continue to accelerate. Im deaf to the world. The only sounds i can hear is the wind that kisses me through my visor. and the engine thats keeps on getting louder.90 kmph. The rate of acceleration is reaching a plane. My hand goes off the clutch to slide open my visor and the wids rips past my face. As i narrow my eyes and speed ahead, the engine revs to its limits.

95 Kmph.
The wind is forcing a steady stream through my eyes. I can feel the cold caress of th tears that are streaking from my eyes.No these arent the tears that are caused by dust particles flying into your eyes. or by smoke. or pain. these arent the tears that hurt. These are not those.

In a way it's strange how speeding down an open road changes those very
tears that generally burn your eyes when your heart bleeds, into something that
make your heart beat faster than ever. How the very same tears that burn down
your face when you weep give you a sense of calm as they caress your skin. How
the very same tears that hurt so bad, feel like nirvana on a speeding road.

100 kmph.
Adrenaline is high. My mind is racing. The silence is a roar. the world is a moist blur.
and my smile is complete!

CLUTCH.
As the road comes to another signal i let the accelerator go as i sail into the stop. My day is set already.

10 A.M.
I hop into my workplace with this wide moronic grin plastered across my face. People wonder why im smiling at the beginning of the day with no apparent reason. The confused receptionist has already named me 'atrangi', meaning 'wierdo' in marathi. What these people miss to notice, is the fast fading streak of tears from my eyes, that make a moist line towards my temple. No, they arent the sad, cranky, wistful tears. I havent been crying.

They are what I have come to call SPEED TEARS.

Memories

It might sound stupid, but there is this weird thing i do when the year is nearing its end - i run through my memories of the entire year.

Going through albums, bank statements, cards, bills, letters, memorabilia etc.

Its kinda loony, but i love to think of the year gone by - of the TIME gone by. Somehow, helps me to know a little more about the passage of time and its weird effects on us. The way it moulds us and the way we desire to make the most of it.


CHANGES! CHANGES! CHANGES!


Going through my albums of the year - one album caught my attention. Nothing too great or glorious as such, just pictures from my school reunion. An evening that was just too amazing to forget!


It has been years since we passed out of school - kinda stupid kids with weird dreams and stupider ideas of the world. Crazy, charged people cribbing about the school song and the fumbling bumbling school management and staff... people excited about simple things like school trips and bunking classes... ambitious people with great ambitions and unstoppable ideas and greater dreams... people that you didn't really have the time to know.. and those who didn't have the inclination to get to know you... ALL are here! Here, today, in one place, out of the big wide world that they found themselves in outside their school - back for a reunion of the days gone by.


What a night! From what i can remember i must have danced the hell out of that place! Every one danced (and i made sure of that by threatening to BIRTHDAY BUM those who didn't ;)), every one had a smile, some of the old squibs still existed somehow - but over it all - everyone was HAPPY! Happy to be together again. I guess we all were high, high on life more than anything else. Surprisingly, even those who got drunk, didn't get drunk enough to get embarrassing - looking back - it really wudnt have mattered if they had :D


That evening, even the people who hadn't actually given a fuck about others in school 'discovered' them. I say discovered coz back in school, sometimes like in life, we take everything for granted - we are glad to be stuck in our own little worlds - not giving two fucks about the people outside - and then suddenly when you really open your eyes you find out how much of an illusion your prejudice was! I remember arch rivals and enemies becoming friends that night. (some shit perhaps remains shitty forever though).


Its not just about the fun - Its an experience in itself! Some kind of coming to terms with the fact that you've grown. TIME has played its part on you.


Looking at all your schoolmates - and at yourself - its like looking at time itself. Time heals, time kills, time changes, time works on people in various ways.

Some people grow up, some never do, some change for the better, some choose the worse, some discover themselves, some are still trying - but at the end what matters here is that there is something that time dosen't change.


Time doesn't change much the feeling of BELONGING.


Time changed everything around us - maybe even everything about us - but still on that one day - so many STRANGERS moulded by time, changed by time, were FRIENDS again!

Friends taking on a simple night from the same 365 days that fill a year and turning it into one crazy night to remember!

And that's what matters!


I guess, if i were to look back any day, back to this night - I'd be glad, I'd be happy - coz I'd be with my BAND OF BROTHERS again.

Love you people man! Thanks for being in my life, together.

Cheers mates!

and all the best for life!


(btw, if and when i fulfill my dreams of being a film-maker - I'm definitely making a film on this one night! :))

My interview with Mr.Evil Kitty [episode 1]

to be continued.. (in the blog after this :))

My interview wid Mr.Evil Kitty [episode 2]

for the original pictures, pease visit: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=12168&l=acd4d&id=517429951

Celebrating Singlehood!

Walking with my friend Sanjeev, alongside ruia college yesterday - on route to mission RESCUE FAT BASTARD this queer thing suddenly struck me. (kindly do not ask details about mission RFB). All of a sudden out of nowhere i realised something that made our day!
FOUR AND A HALF YEARS! yes, that's the time we have been the best of friends - Sanjeev, ketak and I. and one of the funniest things is, for four and a half years we had never, never been single or committed together. that was until i realized yesterday that FINALLY, FINALLY all of us were single again!!!!

for the first time in our crazy time together!!!!

it was reason to celebrate!!!!!

well, it always so happened that one of us was committed and two of us were single, or two of us were committed and one was single, by the time the third got committed, the second was single again and so on and so forth for all these years!
Finally when Ketak broke up recently it happened - all of us were single together!... but it didn't strike me till yesterday! and when it did, darn! did we have a ball or whattt!

lolllll

We still love our exes, yes - they are amazing people - and our being happy has nothing to do with breaking up with them per se... its just that its brilliant for all Friends to just be single for the first time ever!!!!
now we can finally have that all singles party we planned to have sooooooo long ago! :D

its like this reallly stooopid child finally getting to have his tent in the garden party!

lo! i cant even imagine how this new years ever is gonna be!

Anyways now that we are finally all single - Sanjeev, Ketak and I, and now that we have realised what idiotic emotional dumb asses we are-- we decided on three things:
1. No getting into any relationships before our SINGLES PARTY! (dec 31st 2007)
2. Dating is fine, Emotional Commitment is strictly NO NO unless approved by the other 2 fools.
3. Shift HR division to our Kid sister - Veera! Our kid sis would have the final judgement whether we should or should not let anyone into our emotional sides again (coz as it turns out, she probably has more sense in her head than we emotional numb nuts do!)

------ hmmmm... so that brings me to the next point--- my son!
thanks to the discussion yesterday i decided to make one other thing straight-- my dog is my son - and he comes above everything to me - and if people don't like him - i don't like them - it is that simple!
So women who dislike dogs--- please do me a favor and stay away - coz there's no way i wud even stand such people. (that narrows my 'potential' category, but i really don't give a damn! my son comes first)

So -- neways -- with the party set -- the 'relationship' approvals section in our kid sis's hands -- and the guidelines in place --- we are all now looking forward to a crazy new year--- and a brand new beginning!!!!!! :DDDD

yipppieeeeeeeeeeeeee! :D

fckkkkkk! being single never felt so amazingggggg before!!!!!!!! :D

PS: For applying to the candidates in question (apart frm me) you can get in touch mail your resumes along with a photograph/video and a covering letter to our HR manager VEERA ;)

As for all those others who are 'single and lovin it' you are free to join in the fun toooooooooooo! :DDDDD

meowwwwwwwwwwwwwww! :D

The religion of GYMMING

I dunno what it is, but no matter what state i'm in, there's one thing that always gets me going - The euphoria of a good work out! Working day in and day out, late nights and weekends, all the stress in the world put together on one side - and the sweet ache of a pulsating, blood throbbing workout on the other side - it's a perfect balance.

The way i see it, i'm a religious man - only that for me religion is not big temples and structures and idols and flowers - its about pushing my body to a new level - 'working out' is religion to me. If we see it closely, work outs are like devotional offerings of a sort - a dedication towards a higher ideal. My Devotion. It is what i look forward to every day. Only difference between me and a 'religious' man being that, for me, MY BODY is my temple. I carry my temple along with me everywhere i go. And no matter where i am, i can always devote a few moments to it.
And just the way religious folk find solace in their visits to a temple/mosque/gurudwara, i find mine in a good work out.

You find people working out to get thin, to model, to look good, to fit in - Just like the 'DEVOTEES' who visit the temple coz their family thinks they should, or coz the cute chick from their colony goes there too.
The result in both cases: they drop out of the gym/temple routine in a few days or months and get back to the way they were before. Time lost. Nothing gained.

People say they don't find time. People say that they live a hectic life.
Ever hear a religious person say he doesn't find time for prayer????
It's all about prioritization. About FINDING time to do what you want. Those who want it, will find the time for it.
It may not be a full blown work out session at times - it may just be about taking the stairs instead of the elevator, or about walking home instead of taking the car (working alongside on the mobile phone), or doing a quick set of 30 push-ups before you take your bath! What matters is that you devote yourself to it. That you find the time for it.

I see people getting older day by day - even before they are 25! flopping paunches and lethargic attitudes, chubby faces and wrinkling skin, finding time to sit by the road side to take a breath and listen to their swanky i-pods - damn! they make my grandmother seem like RAMBO to me! Aging has hit them even before they crossed their youth! why? coz somehow they find all the time in the world for everything else but for the only thing that'll last them their lifetime - their body!

I dont know why, but somehow, the concept of working out, as a religion to me is very appealing.
Its the only religion that i've know that has no barriers and discrimination. Everyone is accepted into the religion - Everyone with faith enough to devote themselves to their own betterment. Your caste, creed, birth, color - nothing bloody matters!

All that matters is the WILL to endure the pain that grips your lungs when you take that run beyond the last mile, the DETERMINATION to stop that iron from toughing the ground when you think your muscles have given up on you, the DESIRE to push yourself beyond the limits you've known, the OBSTINATE NEED to take on that entire set even when you sweat yourself dry and your eyes blur red.

And when you are done - it sets in.
A sweet euphoria. A dizzy high.
The aching pleasure of a prayer well done.

Yeah, thats how it is. And that... sounds like religion to me.

TERMINATOR PARODY!

absolutely hilarious parody of the TERMINATOR!

juxtaposing the TERMINATOR with JESUS!

absolutely amazing!

as they say--- "The greatest ACTION story ever told!"

;)

On fire and Blazing through

Sometimes you forget how lucky you are to be alive and breathing, to have limbs that function and a heart that beats. Sometimes you just so take everything for granted that you forget you are still alive. You don't realize that you are still THERE!

The last time i felt this way was exactly eleven months ago - and now it feels the same - on FIRE!

I don't know how it happens or why but it does - you wake up one morning just tooo grateful to be alive, and look at the world as you never did before.
Its the same old world, its your mind that has changed.

The way i look at it - the question that really makes the difference here is -

"WHAT'S MY LIFE ABOUT?"

come to think of it; we all live, we all breathe, we all work, we all earn a living, we all age, we all die. That's how it is with everyone. That's how it has been since mankind's earliest existence. People choosing the easy way out. The 'logical', 'practical' way and living on.
JUST LIVING ON.

Is that the life i want? is that the life you want? the path that's been trodden a zillion times - just another family man, just another professional, just another old man walking down the street? Is that all your life is about?

WHAT WOULD YOU SAY TO YOURSELF WHEN YOU ARE AT THE END?

Did you life a life worth living?

What makes your life special?
Have you been any different from those million microorganisms that a scientist studies under his microscope - doing all you have to do, just to LIVE ON till you FADE OUT and DIE?

DID YOU LIVE 'YOUR' LIFE AT ALL?

Sometimes it makes sense for all of us to just go on living every other day like it was just the natural thing to do - do your job, get the money, earn that living, meet your friends, be with family - end the day - wake up to the same.

Its SIMPLE. ITS LOGICAL.
It is the EASY way out. It is so much easier for us to live by those EXCUSES. That's what we have learnt all our lives! We've lived in a world of excuses.
I'm not saying that it's bad. All I'm saying that its the 'PROVEN & TESTED' way to live out a life and fade out and die.
Maybe that's just how life goes.

OR then.....
There is that ILLOGICAL WAY.

To dare to dream. And CHASE it!
To be on fire and blaze through!
To Throw out all the 'no you can't do this' and 'no you cant do that' from your life - AND LIVE YOUR LIFE!
Live your life the way you meant it to be!

The chances are you'll fall flat on your face, the chances are that you may soar, the chances are that you may get burnt, the chances are that you'll find them worth it -
but whatever the outcome, one thing is certain -
You'll have what very few men have ever had------- The conviction of belief!
The Feel of having LIVED. Having LIVED your life. Having made your little difference in this large mosaic of a zillion people living out their lives.

Maybe, when you are at the end, maybe an old wrinkly clump in an old creaky bed, you'll be able to say to yourself -

"Yes, I've lived.
I've lived it all!"

Dedicated to every copywriter in the world! ;)

this is simply fab!

if you know what copywriting is--- or even better if you are one--- u'll know why!

amazing video-- using scenes from the movie TAXI DRIVER - amazing laugh!

:)

MYSTIC RIVER: The best piece of acting you may ever see!

monkeyrating: 8/10

The plot is simple.
It is about 3 friends who grow up together in the same neighbourhood, in similar circumstance, except for an incident of childhood sexual abuse that still scars one of them (tim robbins). The characters, Jimmy Markum (Penn), Sean Devine (Bacon) and Dave Boyle (Robbins) that have all come to live their own separate ways, reunite following the death of Jimmy's oldest daughter, Katie (Rossum).

Clint Eastwood's directorial genius is eveident from the flow of the sequences right from the start. The summer of 1975- the retro, mid-town america comes out alive on screen right in front of you. In every scene, their character streaks arte as obvious as can be - the rebellious nature of jimmy, the submissiveness of dave, the 'evil' intent of the priest, the paedophilic cop - it's all as convincing as can be. And im glad it is so, coz thats what takes on the entire movie into the plot. Its like the perfect starter for a brilliant meal.

Fast forward to 25 years to the present day Clint Eastwood has framed 3 of the best characters to ever grace the screen. The story grips as Tim robbin's character - DAVE is haunted into adulthood by his childhood trauma, and he becomes a primary suspect when Jimmy's daughter, Katie, is found murdered. Sean, assigned to investigate the crime, and he finds himself facing both demons from the past and demons in the present as the circumstances surrounding Katie's death are uncovered.

This is where the magic unfolds. I shall confess that the story was just the average joe for me. I could very well predict all of it. But what kept me glued is the PERFORMANCE and the DIRECTION in every sequence!
(i add in direction not so much for the scenes as much as for the direction in acting terms)
SEAN PENN's depiction of a hard, edgy personality maimed by the death of his daughter is REAL. His sobs, his rage, his desperation, his cold determination, his tears - all his emotions and feelings - all of it - it makes you wonder if he ever ACTED his part at all! If ever an actor thinks he acts too good, i bet watching sean' performance in this movie would change his mind.
For soem reason i tried comparing his performance to SHARUKH KHAN and AMITABH BACCHAN... and it really made me smirk. Yes, they can surely come close - but SEAN would still be wayyyy ahead!

Moving over to another brilliant performer who adds to the experience - Tim Robbins. The confusion, the trauma within, the feel of the growing psychosis, the meekness of the character - post SHAWSHANK, he seems like the man who was made for the role. All together i can say this is a film BASED on the acting. The perfortmances are the true MOVIE. The tragic story of the loss of the youth is as real, full of human flaws, disturbances, prejudice and judgements as can be.

I am not much of a literature person but yes, having read a lot i cudnt help but get a hint of a shakespearean essence from the movie. The whole drama of emotions is very Shakespearean - as though it were a Macbeth/Othello set in the modern day america. The whole idea of simple human beings being cast into a ocean of strong emotions and its consequences and that being the Theme is overbearing - typical to shakespeare.

AND YES - the one thing i hate (and love) about CLINT EASTWOOD - the blooody philosphical OPEN ENDINGS! it's here too! and it kinda pisses u off a bit. wondering what the hell has happened!

Whatever it maye be, the movie was still goddamn worth it. The memory still remains, the experience can still be felt and the performances play on over and over again in my head even now! Yes, the plot is simple. But hell what a movie!

The official MYSTIC RIVER trailer:



SEAN's scene from the movie:



WHAT A PERFORMANCE!

We bury our sins, we wash them clean.

Single parenting. oh damn!!!

The day begins at about 8 in the morning - there ios this big white furry thing on my bedside thats pushing me. the paws kind of tickle. and then it comes--- licccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! thats big wet tongue slaps an alarm across my face and io wake up to these two stoopid little button eyes staring at my face.. as if asking me to wake up and smell the.. well - dog food!

I pull the little idiot back into bed, put one foot over him, pull the mattress back in shape and just pack in a little of my sleep back again. WOOOOF! there hje goes again! and now he's gonna be jumping all over me till i give in - i know that for sure!
A few minutes later a groggy, bedheaded me is pouring that PEDIGREE crap into his bowl and poof! its vanishing even before i look again!
Im off for my bath and now he's loaded!!!!

CRAP TIME!
' What goes in, has to come out! ' before the most dangerous law of nature comes into action i got to get going! I slip into whatever my hands find in the cupbuoard snap my fingers at the little jumping jack "diego, lets go!"
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSH! he's out of the bloody door even before i open it to the ends! running down the stairs, stopping, looking back at me for approval and running down again. JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! SCAMPER! RUN! RUN! damn! the kid is crazy! within a moment he is all over the compound just letting off steam before he lets out the call. By the time i reach the gate it bears his signature already. It's kind of amusing - the relieved look on his face when he signs the gate!
Stage 1 is over. Stage 2 begins.
I dunno what is it with him, but he's just got to build up enough pressure before he bombs away.
You can see people walking by the edge of the road while this godzilla pup of mine runs havoc over the street. chasing every cat he lays his eye on and barking at the dog thats 5 times his size (shhhh! dont tell him thats a cow, he thinks its a dog that never barks!)
and ah! he stops. looks around. and right in front of the neigbouring colony's gate - BOOOOOOOOM! radioactive waste finds home!

25 minutes later we are home again. I grab him by the ears. wrestle for a while. and yup, im off to work, barking off instructions to the maid on my way to work. CRAP! im late again!

EVENING.
It has been a crazy day a work. A great time at the gym. and im back.
The door opens to barks! human and creature alike. A long list of complaints of what my son's done all day gnaws at my ears as i take off my shoes and head to my room.
OPEN SESAME!
Holy shit of sweet swearing jesus!
the room is a ruin! pillows on the floor, the cotton on the fan, new clothes are now sans the NEW, the bedsheet has an improvisation that can be termed as a leg hole, the shoes have an extra strap, my cds are now in portable pieces of 2 and 3's, the cd rack is a piece of modern art, the paintings i made are much more modern than when i left them, the phone charger is now a 'do it yourself' set, the paint bottles are broken and theres a new look to room floor.. and walls...
and yes! oh, there he is!
A god damn multicoured breed of dog that i swear i have never seen before!!!!! (but for those stoopid eyes that just look as confused as they did in the morning)

CUTTTT!

3 hours later the room is back to normal again. The night stoll is done and we are back home again. As i put off the lights, really bloody tired and crawl into bed... damn! he makes it there even before i do!
I just make a little place and put myself there. and this furry little godzilla licks me again - i dunno why it fels like he's saying sorry dad, but i love you too.
yeah, its kinda "i love you TOO" coz he knows for sure that i love him all the time.
and i just grab that idiot again. kiss him goodnight.
and tired as hell i fall asleep.

and so does he. 'Diego' - The little furry godzilla of a dog. Son to the most stoopid single parent of allllll time.

darn! i love him!

The Shawshank Redemption: the greatest film ever to NOT win an Oscar

I got to admit, the first time i laid my eyes on this movie, being a typical teenager, i stayed tuned purely because of the first sex sequence - expecting a raunchy way to spice up a boring afternoon. Little did i know i was about to be hit by the most spiritually orgasmic experience that a movie ever delivered.

Past the first few scenes as the movie trodded ahead, the story kept on moving in a very slow but engrossing way. As much as i thought i'd want to change it - i found myself unable to. And i sure am glad i didnt.

Shawshank, is the story of Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins). A successful banker who is sent to Shawshank Prison for the murder of his wife and secret lover. It is in the prison that the whole movie develops into an experience. Andy's experiences in prison, his friendship with the prison 'fixer' Red (Morgan Freeman), his undying spirit, his passion for life, his courage, his determination - all come together into one great lesson of what life is all about.

The movie is paced in a way that every emotion finds time to sink in and grip you on the inside. It's definitely not one of those you can watch with a huge gang of friends while you are busy throwing popcorn all over eachother. Watch it when you can delve into the movie and im sure, it shall touch a chord within you that spells INSPIRATION. Watching Andy being pushed to the edges, watching the helpless of the prisoners, feeling the absolute and corrupt power of the system and the eventual outcome and triumph of the human spirit - it all makes us feel something of life that we have always felt around and within us. It makes us FEEL - the most important thing a movie can ever do to a viewer.

Surprising is the fact that this movie never won an Oscar. If you have seen it, you'd know what i mean. And if you havent, you really should some day. The movie is a masterpiece. It deserves an oscar - for not having one when it deserved to. But somehow, im glad it didnt win that Oscar then. For it just goes to prove just yet another important fact of life - WINNING isnt always everything.
Sometimes just knowing inside that it's worth it all is all that matters.
Yes, this opinion will has its critics, as always. And it will have those who agree. But personally, to me, Oscar or no Oscar, beyond everything else, Shawshank shall always remain the greatest film ever made.


A scence you cant forget:
'HOPE CAN SET YOU FREE'

Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free.

Nostalgia High

My desk lays cluttered. The brief on my table calls out for some attention. My hair is still frizzy from the doggie hassled sleep i managed to pack in the previous night. The calendar at the end of the cubicle is running out on a year well lived. And there i am. finding myself lost on the 'Good old days'.

And it's a high!

I look back at the days in school and college when we used to spend nights on end discussing things like politics, freedom, the theory of relativity, the probabilities of life, global warming and so many more things that made a difference to our lives. And i look at the days we are living now, where most often discussed are the stupidities of daily life and the shit that often finds its way to the 6 million colour or so hi-tech LCD panel that blinds us day in and day out. It makes me smile. rather, it makes me smirk.

I look back at the times when we used to run-out on vacations at the blink of a plan. and get lost on the roads. and hitch-hike our way back. and get back to life again and feel just as crazy and happy as ever. And i look at now, where we have to plead a vacation even to take a breather from the mountains of 'work' we tackle by the day.

I look back at the times we could just pick up that game by the stangers on the road - and beat them at it by a far margin - no matter what the game. fit, and agile, and swift and skilled - we were to take on the taste of sport. And i look at now, where most of 'us' often lose those same games, now played by the neighbouring kids. I remember saying "we'll always be champions". It makes me laugh.

I look back at the times we downed 'golas' by the dozen and devoured those pani-puris like it was our staple food. And i look at now, where daily dabbas rest at our desk waiting for that work load to slide by and that cold food to reach our stomachs. Food has to wait. The work has to go. The golas are just a glimpse by the passing road on the way home. I remember saying "damn! we could eat these forever". hah!

I look back at those night overs with friends. So very often. Like the standard weekend plan that we thought we'd keep on forever. Drunk tales. Prank games. and the then not so hilarious consequences. lol. I look now at the schedule for the weeks ahead that says "shut up boy - get back to work - there's a lot to do!" The past still lingers as a memory when the night lamp now but burns for work.

I look back at times when we talked of dreams. of achieving them and living by them.
of times when we discussed convincingly about "why money, isnt everything". I look now at friends reduced to a mailing list with a company name at the address end. each awaiting the paycheck at the end of the month and still online but 'BUSY' and 3 in the morn. i wonder.

a weekend.

Now my desk is cluttered. My hair is a mess. My throat is hoarse from those golas and puris. Fuck my legs hurt - that was one great game! My dog's probably asleep on those pizza boxes and bottles. The phone's kinda busy with messages from friends. Everyone's now kinda ready to take that leap. The papers are put. The offers are in. The calendar is just about to come down - and a new one's ready - one that says that time for friends is FREE!

Nostalgia is a high. and it looks like its set me free.
That was one crazy weekend. and life's again great, though busy.

Thanks guys and angels - for being there with me - for amazing times - and everything.
Let's promise ourselves, we'll always find a way to eachother - and keep ourselves forever on an amazing high!

cheers nostalgia!

Cuffs & Collars : Enslave

Client: Cuff n Collar
Copy & concept: Pushkaraj Shirke
Art & design: Arun Balagopal

NIKE: KEEP THE RULES. BREAK THE LIMITS

Brand: Nike
COPY: Pushkaraj Shirke
Art: Sameer Ketkar

This is my new ad for my portfolio. The mindblowing artwork is done in graffitti style by my pal Sameer Ketkar a.k.a Sammy - one of the best art guys in the industry.
The copy and concept is mine. Thanks to him it screams out sharp the way it does.
The breaks in the copy are on purpose for a broken - tired - fatigued yet 'attitude' feel that comes across in the ad - even in the artwork.

Being a guy who BREATHES sports... tired of the commercialization of my religion {sports} ... tired of the brand brigades... i needed an ad that was allllllll pure sport------ So this was the ad i just had to make!

Do let us know your comments.

Triumph and the Pain

This piece comes from an old broken part of my life that made me wake up in the middle of the night and make what i then called- TRIUMPH AND THE PAIN

This is one artwork that is way too close to my heart

(it is an improvisation of a perfume campaign photography)

and it is one painting of mine that i will never sell.

coz no matter where i get in life someday this always reminds me what life is really worth - what it is in life that holds purpose - what is it that keeps me going -

this artwork is my own little answer for all my questions of my little mortal life.

TRIUMPH & THE PAIN

It is worth the agony,
It is worth the pain,
Worth all the moments
that drove me insane.

Worth all the wounds
felt deep in my heart,
worth all the tortures
that almost tore me apart.

This one moment of ecstasy,
Of winning against all odds,
I’m still weary of the wounds
But feel blessed by the Gods.

Standing up for what I believe in
And finding victory to my name;
This one moment of triumph,
Makes it worth all the pain.

This one moment of triumph,
Makes it worth all the pain.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

Aereon's Ecstacy

Medium: pencil and ash on paper
Artist: Pushkaraj Shirke
Status: work in progress

RANDOM NOTE:
Life has some weird equations. I never quite exactly understand the reason why pain and art are always so close to eachother - like a perfectly balanced equation that fills each void. Hurt - the one most inevitable aspect of life, can have a million consequenes - some of which i have known just too closely to be comfortable with. I earlier never realised what drew me to art every time i came across the BLUE side of life. Everytime i was pulled down, the hurt turned to art. but as time has passed on... i realised one thing. EVERYTHING is the way it is, coz thats the way its meant to be. ITS UPTO YOU TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT. Im glad my life is the way it is. It just makes more sense every time i look back upon it.

I know this random note makes no sense to most of you - but for those who have know me and know what i speaking about - or all of those who have know how it feelsto vent out an ache that kills u within... im sure you know exactlywhat i mean.

Love,
Pushkaraj Shirke

The pyre

They stand at the pile
all wooden and dead
the smile their dirty smiles
of lies and hate
for they have him inside
trapped alive but dead.
They set it on fire
and it burns bright
but not half as the gleam
that now lights up their eyes.
He dosent scream
nor moan he does...
its just a silent tear
that he feeds the pyre.
Is he hurt enough
to burn and die?
Is he dead enough
to live another lie?
He was born of the fire
that they try to make his end.
He has lived with the fire
that they try to make his end.
All he has to do
is just rise up again
to command the flames
back to his feet again...
but he dosent move,
he just lies there still...
as the pyre burns him down
in blazing timbers of lies,
burning toungues that scar his flesh
scars that burn to ashes dead.
He lies there dying, almost dead.
It was never the flames nor the cinders
that even scorched his head
what burns him true,
is not that pyre of hate,
what chars him alive
is that ONE last lie.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

10 grams [contd- segment 2]

"This is my confession, o mighty lorrrrrrrrd of darkness!"

BANG!

"to my world devoid of light..
in my rights and my wrongs, within the goods and the bads, legal and illegal, holy and evil... This is my world. of life."

BANG!

"I know the choices i make may never be wholly understood... and this brutality not forgiven"

BANG!

"but this is the life i have come to lead. and i seek no understanding or fucking forgiveness..

for i have made my choices.. and my redemption this is

for someday when im gone motherfcker..."

KICK!

"these paths that i have tread on...
might not be needed to be tread again."

BANG!

Amen.

LIVE IN HELL, ASSHOLE!

BANG!.........................................

Being Superman

SUPERMAN! The man of steel. The all powerful saviour of planet earth. The practically undefeatable superhero. Yeah, we've all known him. Born with the greatest of powers and the mightiest of strengths of the planet Krypton and handed to earth by fate, he chooses to lives on planet earth disguised as CLARK KENT - a meek, stumbling bumbling, spine-less geek. Of all people, why does he - the all mighty SUPERMAN, choose to don a disguise?

Why does he pretend to be weak and incapable? Why does he put up with all the shit thrown at his meek alter-ego of CLARK KENT? Why not just be himself - be SUPERMAN, all the time?

Its the society. You see, humans have so long come to live in their gutters of mediocrity that it's stench has become all that they can breathe. Given anything or anyone that exceeds their capabilities or capabilities that 'they' know are way better than their own - is perceived as a THREAT. 

People will do anything to put it down. Kill out even the smallest possibility that threatens their meek living. Its like the story of an island of blind men wanting to gouge the eye of the only man who can see so that he also falls among them. Its the plague of mediocrity that has since their very existence infested the human race. Its this infested 'society', the very pride of the HUMAN civillisation, that is the most inhuman in nature.

SUPERMAN, on planet earth, has to live with his family and friends, people he loves and cares about the most. And yet has to keep his identity hidden from them. He cant bare his soul to them. Cant reveal that he is not the fool they have known him to be. He loves, he cares, he trusts... but he still keeps his secret. WHY?
YOU SEE, he is AFRAID.
The man who can stare in the eyes of the greatest villans of the universe, battle the greatest evils in existence and face the greatest horrors without as much as flinching is AFRAID.
AFRAID of the greatest evil of them all - the EVIL we call SOCIETY.

The revelation of his secret identity is the only thing that can lead to his failure. Coz then he is weak. he is vulneable. Not only by the emotional bonds he has towrds the ones he loves, but also vulnerable to the SOCIETY of plague infested mediocres that inhabit the planet.

SUPERMAN is the representation of all the men we have known and shall ever know to have stood up against society. May it be you, me, gandhi, da vinci, socrates, galileo, copernicus, joan of arc - every person who has ever for even a moment stood up against the odds of society to excel, would know why Supeman needed Clark Kent. Every man who stood up against society out in the open - was tortured, punished, killed, convicted, jailed, assasinated, betrayed, terminated...... dissolved from their existence for the mediocrity of the plagued planet.

For everyman who ever breaks out of the mould, wants to stand up, stand out, excel, be radical or plain simply bring change to this world - SUPERMAN's 'COMPROMISE' as the feeble Clark is a lesson to learn. Coz the truth is, being Clark didnt really matter, for SUPERMAN knew what he was inside. By whatever the world did, his ego wasnt hurt, his pride wasnt crushed, his esteem wasnt washed out... coz he knew every thing the world subjected to Clark, or rather thought they subjected to Clark was the only things their mediocre selves could do to CLARK - who was infact SUERMAN's own MOCKERY o the measly Human Race.

In playing clark every single day of his brilliant existence, Superman was no less the superhero that he was inside. He was only stronger, mocking within, every moment, at the humans who pushed poor Clark around to make an impact, to feed their egos, to climb higher on their pathetic ladder of society, to make their buck. He mocked within, but he kept his guise. Coz as truly powerful as he was inside the shell of his guise, equally vulnerable was he without it.

SUPERMAN's ultimate defeat didnt lie in 'being himself', it lied in letting the world know about him being himself.

That's what it is to be SUPERMAN.

10 grams

"Whoa fucker!"
the flutter of cards filled the dingy room as they were thrown at my face from the table.
"thats the tenth game in a row man!" he said. guzzling down his whisky.
"fair and sqaure man. fair and square."

"thats it boy! i aint layin anymore bets today. Jesus is taking his vengeance against me today!"

The clutter of now empty bottles on the floor tinkled as the drunk gun-man heaved his grisly frame against the couch. The smoke of cigarettes coughed out of his lungs as i picked him up.
"Good thing i dont drink Bob. i get to kick ur ass to bed everytime u slosh!"

he grinned as he fell onto the creaky large bed and filled it with his snores
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I stood in the darkness. at the window alone. staring at the cold rain caressing the fading skyline amidst the darkness. It felt different that day. As if it wanted to tell me something. I should have known.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"With the destruction of the family, family order (dharma) and eternal order (dharma) are lost. The whole family transforms itself into adharma (disorder or irreligiousness)."
[Chapter 1 Verse 40]
- THE BHAGWAD GITA

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To be contd.....

*This is purely a work of fiction and unlike other works on my blog, does not have any resemblace to my life or anyone else's life that i know of.

Unbroken

He's been there now
he's been there long
through a million nights
and a thousand scars

His wings are hurt
and eyes closing dim
sweat and blood none
but a pain within

his wings of steel
seem a burden now
into the darkness
held by a vow.

his pain kills him
but he wont die
his wings are heavy
but he shall fly

for in his spirit
and for the vows he's taken
his wings of steel,
like his promises made
shall today and forever...
remain unbroken.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

HAPPyNESS

Yeah. i know thats not the way its spelt. its wrong. but sometimes, even the most wrong things are more right that every other 'right' thing in the world. You run around life, doing all the right things, the right way, in perfection, just the way the world finds it absolutely acceptable... but somewhere in this running around, you realise that what really makes you happy, is not all the 'right' things you did, but it is that one 'wrong' thing in your life that you just cant set right, in which lies your happiness.
and thats all that matters. and thats all that ever really will.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

Aksar...

Aksar zindagi mein hum
kai khwaab sajaate hai,
aankhon ke daaman mein aksar
kai deep jalaatein hai,
andheron se anjaan..
apne hi khwaabon mein
zindagi si ek mehfil
sajaaye jaate hain.

chalte chalte zindagi mein
naa jaane kab raahon mein
andheron mein hum
yu kho jaatey hai...
unhi sapnon ko bech kar
andhere mitaaney lag jaatey hain
aur aksar unhi bujhey huye
chiragon ke sheeshe
aankhon se lahu bahaatein hain...

aur bas yunhi aksar,
chandd samjhautey jo kabhi
bas kuch zarrey theyy zindagi ke...
aksar zindagi hi ban jaatey hain.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

Bleed

SMACK! He felt the salty floor cold against his bleeding face. The glow burned down on his eyes that were half shut with the pain. The blurs, the chatters, the shouts.. all seem to fade away.

"Bleed. we all bleed. They say you reach a point in your existence, that tells you your time has come. You recollect your life. Your rights and your wrongs. Your days - happy and bad...watch them right before your eyes and it seems to take away the pain... just moments before you take away that pain... and embrace the silence of the dead. and sometimes you think... MAYBE life could have been someother way."

an hour ago.
The night was silent as he made his way down the dusty road. The yellow lit up the roads standing dead where they had been standing for ages. The winds did not cross his path that day. His dry skin was beginning to work up a sweat around those half dark cirles that hid his eyes. He made his way towards the abandoned mill at end of the road. There were cheering sounds, thuds and claps and a dim golden glow sneaking outof the edges of the large wodden door. He closed his eyes as he reached the door, held a while, took a few slow breaths of air as he knew its may not be that easy once he crossed that door. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
It had been 5 years now.

5 years since that night where the end had begun. He had watched his friend. He had watched a fist smack down a victory to the ground as the crowds fell silent. Held his friends bloody, regret filled face in his hands. "tell mom i'm sorry man... im sorry" he frothed in blood through his mouth. DEAD.
The court case. BANKRUPTCY. The true colours of people. BETRAYAL. Bidding goodbye to the bloodring. A broken new beginning. The struggle. The compromises. HOPE. A new relationship. GLORY. A new circle. LIFE.
and the cirlce goes round again. RELATIONSHIPS OF LIES. The end of ignorance. The broken promises. The knowledge of MATERIALISM. The backstabbers. The fairweathers. The rejections. The firing. The drugs. The booze. The smoke. The dead high. The END OF A DREAM. The completion of a circle. The end of those 5 years. The beginning of today.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
"The door opened to a blare of cheers, a golden burning glow and the stink of bloody sweat. Cheering blood crazy bastads filled the room with their filth. The richer dogs hid their scrawny eyes behind dark glasses as they laid their bets on the table. The moron in the 'ring' was getting the flame of life kicked right out of his ass in a way he probably never thought was posible."
The crate came crashing across as the defeated slammed through it, falling right at his feet.
He just stood and stared.
"did i pity him? maybe i did. but then maybe i didnt. maybe he had found what he was looking for. we never know what people come to find in places like these."
The 'matchmaker', as they called him, came up to him with a look that recognised him from a long way back. "am i dreaming or am i mad. look who we have here." he just stood and forced a little smile. "please tell me u r gonna fight again man! i miss the money!... oh and your fighting."
The people around had noticed too. Whispers went around the room like it were on fire. There stood in front of them a face most of them had known a long ago. The silence had killed the victory celebrations of the bearded bastard who now jsut stared at him from the 'ring'.

"I'll fight."
"dont know what i myself was looking for. maybe... for an end to the misery that life had come to be. A pain to kill the pain. An end. yeah,... maybe thats all i was looking for... my Baptism by PAIN."

The dark room seemed to be a part of him – cold. Hard. Flickering. And closed. Memories ran past his eyes in the darkness as he wound the straps around his arms. The training days. The fighting days. Strap by strap. The days of friendship. The day his friend died. The pain on his face. Wound around him. His silhouette stood smothered in the dark. Fists clenched for a battle that seemed like one he had wanted to lose for a long, long time. The battle of life.

SUICIDE.
“It began like just any other fight.”
- “No rounds. No rules. 1 winner” signaling him with his eyes, the matchmaker was ready for his money even as the fight began.
“I was to lose the fight. The matchmaker was to make money. I was to get a percentage.” Knocked fists. 5 steps back. The room full of blood thirsty eyes gleamed with anticipation as they screamed out their lungs for their bets. Money was flying around the golden glow while 2 sweaty bodies stood steady, poised to strike; breathing in puffs, taking in all the air they could for they knew that later on, the same breath of air might just be way too much harder.
- “FIGHT!”
Whhhmmmmmmmmmp! He looked at the grisly fist zip past him as he swerved away. Stumbling a few steps backward. Dodging punch after punch he moved around the circle. Parrying punches. Rallying kicks like kids playing catch. Fooling around the ring. Till it came. CRACK. Right in the ribs. He could feel the aggravated beast knock right into him like a 2 ton bloody dinosaur that was hungry for his ribs. The sounds faded. The crowds blurred. GASP. He pulled in for all the air he could.
Back to his senses in a whipping flash of pain he grabbed at the beasts hair and slapped across his face almost helplessly. Thrashing. Breathing beggar’s morsels of air. Desperate. THUD. The beast’s head banged the floor as he set himself free. And onto his feet as fast as he could.

“I had just tasted the penalty of a mistake. The beast was like a bull-dog, he held on – once in his grasp, there would be no easy way out. But why was I worrying? I somehow… wanted the pain to crush me out.”

The beast shook his head. Turning it with his hands in bursts. The crackling tense muscles freed – he was ready to lash again.
The beast thrashed in. From the corner of his eye he could see the match maker signaling him to put up a little fight to raise the stakes.
The beast was heavy. Movied stong, but slow.
DODGE ….. DODGE. DODGE…… DODGE. DODGESMASH! SMASHSMASHSMASH! SMASHHHHHHH! DOWN.

The beast was down. Spuuuuurt! It had been a few flashes. The beast’s blood was sprayed across the golden glowing dust as he leaned over the floor. Aggravated… and now sworn to brutality. Charged into him. Jumping with both legs into his ribs again. Right across the ring and into the crowd!
BLUR .

“Life flashed by like a scratched up old film on a patched up screen. Memories of times that had put a smile to my face. I could see myself running around my father doing the ‘airplane’ at the park at age 5. my family. my first kiss. my bunch of friends. The pranks we played. The campfires. The day i proposed. the day I graduated. The day I was with her. It all came as if life wanted me to see those few ‘happy’ moments before i finally gave up to the silence.”

BLOOD.
He could see it fly across the glow as his body gave in to the punishment it was being gifted.

to be continued...

learning to hate

How does a person hate someone?
More importantly how does someone hate someone he has loved?
Of all the crazy experiences that life has thrown at me, over and over again, the one thing that has always evaded me is the capability to hate. Why the hell is it so difficult for me to hate? hate those very people who have given me one hell of a time, hate them whom i have trusted in return for their betrayal, hate them who have built castles of glass around me with their promises and broken them to shards and ripped me to pieces... why cant i hate them?

Why can't i hate you?
Maybe I know the answer myself. Maybe its just my illusion again.

For those people who have been a part of my life, especially those whom i have loved... how can I possibly ever hate you? I have smiled with you, we have shared tears, I have felt your pain, I have known the broken world you live in yourself... to the extent that you have become an indelible part of me. Whenever you hurt me... its been like an aching limb- believing that if I am hurt, maybe its because you are hurt too. if you hurt me, it was because you yourself were hurting too. Maybe you just couldn’t tell me that in a different way.
The few that made promises and left them broken, maybe you did so coz i failed you in someway, maybe you did so coz I just couldn’t let you know how much those promises meant to me... or maybe, you did so coz it just helped you feel a little better.

No point in you blaming yourself. Coz no matter what, nothing changes. Because letting you into my life was as much as my decision as much as it was yours to let me into yours. Pain shall never be on just one side. and I know that. It’s been my choice to open up to a stranger and let in whatever you gave - may it be the happiness, the smiles, the tears or the pain.

Knowing all this, now you tell me, how can I ever hate you? I have loved and hoped... and so have you. and if you couldn’t keep your promises when I kept mine, I have no other way but to believe that it was my belief that failed. Not yours.

I guess the only way I know I can hate you, is the only way I know I can.
Hate you – Hate you, coz I love you so much that life just doesn’t seem the same without you.
I hate you.
-Pushkaraj Shirke

chaltey jaa rahein...

sarankhon pe rakhein tere labz mujhko
kuch iss tarah hai jala rahein,
sardiyon mein bhi jal rahein hai yeh aankhen
aasuon mein bhi sparsh ho raha hai
kahi kuch jaltey zakhmon ka...
bas jee rahein hai zinagi ko,
aasuon ko hassi mein chipaye hue..
teri yaadon ko yu dil mein dafnaaye huye,
har muskuraahat ki lapet ko banaakar kafand,
mar kar bhi jee rahein hai hum.
jee rahein hai hum. jee rahein hai hum.
bas chaltey jaa rahein hai hum.
sarankhon pe rakhein tere labz mujhko
kuch iss tarah hai jala rahein,
ke mar kar bhi jee rahein hai hum.
bas chaltey jaa rahein hai hum.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

Crash.. and live.

The sun was easy that day. wasnt burning as it usually does. the job was done- just a freelance work- just a little more money on a saturday afternoon. The way back home was tempting in a different way. But he felt lifeless.. like something within him was missing... maybe it was just the consciousness of life... or maybe just that spark that makes one feel alive. It had been a long time since that day in heaven when he had felt so alive. The only thing now that made him feel something at the moment was the purr of the150cc engine that was growing louder everytime he kissed the wind a little more.

Neutral. The traffic was as usual on a sunny saturday afternoon. the signals were in place. the helmet was on. and the black panther seemed beckoning for one free wild run. The chance came on. The signal turned green and the streets cleared out as he roared past the frontrunners in the herd. 70 kmph. it was a sail. cutting around the few cars that came ahead until the long clear highway that spread across like a red carpet to life. 80 kmph.

Click. the fourth gear slid under his feet as smooth as the poised claws of a cat ready to pounce. Blur. 100 kmph. The purring pussycats on the other side of the road just seemed a blur fro the visor of the focussed helmet. The panther was sparking life. Like a gush of water from the cracked wall of a dam that held back more than it ever really could. The block now lay just ahead. as a cattle mooed side by side covering the carpet all across. but for one edge on the wrong side of the street. A split second. A decision. Click. zipped across the edge n out right onto the open concrete n tar that lay ahead. far far away from the next signal.

120 kmph. the wind was now sparking little bursts of life within him. 120 kmph. the final gear. going steady blazing the path. feeling half alive. still on the left side to avoid the cattle. btttttrrrrrrrr.... it jumped out from the edges right onto the road. a jackrabbit start. straight in the path. INEVITABLE.

Fuck the brakes. Slide sideways. rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr........ Crashhhhhh...rrrrrrrrrrr..... off the bike and almost onto the road - just a moment before contact... life was in. ALIVE. as he thudded n slid along the road he saw the sparks flying off the bike's steel silencer that was still clawing at the road ahead of him in desperation. Standing up with blood all across his arms... he felt a smile across his face he simply couldnt explain. A rush of life that felt like GOD. Picked the helmet that had rolled across, smiled at the petrified rishawdriver "hota hai, koi baat nahi" he said. The rishaw driver breathed a sigh of relief as the people come over ready to thrash him backed off at the statement.

Life. it felt like life once again. She was there. A flash through his mind. and he knew what had kept him alive. He had felt alive again. but now he had to live on too. He had a wait ahead of him to live through. The smile was still there. and it didnt seem like it was going to leave again.

He had crashed into a realisation. he had crashed... into life.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

Moving ahead...

Every night he lays back in bed.. tired.. wishing he could stop walking... wishing things were a little easier. just little easier. wishing he didnt have to bear the pain of knowing that the one person... that one person whom he loved beyond everything in the universe.. is 'somewhere else'. Faith is all that keeps him going. faith that its worth it all. faith that this time it aint like one of those that came haunting in the past. faith that this really is love.

every morning he wakes up to the little kid they had together.. kisses him.. puts on a smile and moves ahead. he walks in for a bath... and takes a little longer than usual everysingle day now. wonder how he evr discovered that water makes it easier to let the tears flow. Sometimes... just sometimes .. again like the past.. the glass of the ventilators seem tempting to the wrists. but he knows.. or rather keeps faith that it wont be only him that would carry this pain.

all through the day.. the people.. the strangers.. the friends... he goes through them all... but never for a moment does he lose from his mind the only memories that keep him alive. watching people together.. listening to songs... watching that little hotel on his way home... everything that brings to life those memories that he holds so dear break him a little as he moves ahead. piece by piece he gathers himself.. to move ahead - ahead to that one time that he hopes things would be different... reach that end where his memories for once agin would be real. for that point in time when the wait would be over.

night draws closer again... he drags himself to the party and has a great time... laughing, dancing,.. dancing right till then end even when no one dances anymore--- it somehow helps him from feeling the pain of being there... the pain that just dosent leave him. smiling at the million ppl that come across him. sharing laughs n yaps wid everyone like the world couldnt get any better. no one can see through him. its a curtain so dense that even he didnt know he could ever create. he is a stranger to himself when its all over. he isnt drunk... but he isnt himself either.

he reads that little diary a few times on the way home. oh yes.. thats one thing that goes with him wherever he goes. kisses it once. kisses it twice and closes it as he shuts his eyes. the cabbie says "saab, aagaye ". he pays the fare and gets to the doorstep. he waits at the door a few moments before knocking. he has made it through the day. he has moved a little more ahead to that one point in time that he so longs for. the pain he hopes will be all worth it. he hopes someone understands that he'll be there waiting... when he makes it through.

he has moved ahead. but he definitely hasnt moved on. for that is one thing he can never do. the one thing he can never do. maybe he's just a dreamer... but maybe thats what he's know as what 'love' really is.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

Written in the night

Written In The Night

Words flowing in silence,

thoughts tearing across,

my mind plays a cruel game

in memories full of moss.

Memories I wished I never had,

come out into the light,

things I wish I could forget

drown me into the night.

Shards of broken mirrors

stare back as at them I see,

I look a little while longer

and I see hundreds of me.T

here playing in the shadows

somewhere around and near,

they play there in the dakness

for they know its them I fear.

Play along I wish I could,

Wish was not I a mortal,

had no need to ever be hurt,

I wish I were immortal.

Words still flow in silence,

thoughts still tear across,

I can feel the light in darkness,

the night has come to pass.

- Pushkaraj Shirke