JLT....

You Scored as Strong Egoism

Your life is very much guided by the concept of <b>Egoism</b>: You work primarily to promote your own interests. <br><br>“I swear by my life, and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine.” <br>“I am not primarily an advocate of capitalism, but of egoism; and I am not primarily an advocate of egoism, but of reason. If one recognizes the supremacy of reason and applies it consistently, all the rest follows.” <br>--Ayn Rand <br><br>More info at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/User:Arocoun">Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page...</a>

Hedonism

100%

Strong Egoism

100%

Justice (Fairness)

90%

Apathy

80%

Nihilism

60%

Existentialism

55%

Utilitarianism

50%

Kantianism

45%

Divine Command

0%

Politics...

So, the election fever is on again... And everywhere from newspaper to toilet paper, the smiling faces of politicians smile down at us!! And why should they not?? In spite of being the most inefficient Lok Sabha in the history (approx 63% of the allotted time utilised in sitting) they get a 200% pay rise (seriously)!!!

Anyways, setting aside my disdain for politicians as a class (I know I am practicing discrimination, but what the heck!), what really took my goat for a high jump was a tweet today from a friend advertising a particular candidate for a supposedly progressive party. Among the prominent claims to fame for the candidate in question was the fact that she is an adivasi!!!




Now I think I must be seriously duff to not realise what being adivasi has to do with being a good politician ( if there is some such thing!!). Now I being the blockhead ask my friend the same question, and he replies that what matters is her immense courage and conviction in fighting for human rights...

Now I got the second thing that gets my goat... (not the same goat, I had a few goats....  :P)

Human rights activists... They are a fraternity I sometimes loathe more than politicians and terrorists.. COMBINED!!!

How is it so that they never protest about the human rights of the victims of a terror attack, or a mob violence?? Or do they assume that in being victims, they rescinded their rights to be human??!! Maybe their thinking is like that of the people who find girls responsible for gender related crimes!! If you are a victim of a crime, then you deserve to be 'crimed' against!!

However, coming back to the track, I looked around for the lady in question online... Apparently, the state claims that she was a courier between the Naxalites and the industrialists... The lady claims she was an innocent bystander who was framed by the police... If I cannot discard her version, what gives me the right to discard the state version?? Why can we not reserve the judgement?? I guess the police in our country is a much maligned lot (and maybe deservedly so), but the judiciary is still held in some regard. Why can we not let the due process of law take its course and then decide whether she is an angel or Satan's agent??

And whatever be it, fighting for one's own cause was not really in the spirit of fighting for the so calle dnoble objective of human rights, last I checked...

So are we all guilty of either over simplification (like me) or over glorification (like my friend)???

Still thinking...

Randomness....

A big huge spell of randomness... Utterly normal, day to day stuff... Nothing really new...

All this broken today morning- by rains!!

Rains, coming down in torrents (oops, not the file sharing types), flooding away all the stagnated feelings, drenching the body and cleansing the soul...

The sheer, unadulterated joy of roaming around aimlessly in the rains, making faces at kids who reply back in kind!! The feeling of water gushing through your toes as you wade away... Taking a slide at a earthen mound lubricated by water... Intoxicating!!!

But why am I trying to describe it? It was too good to be put down in words... Almost too good to have happened... Was it all a dream?? My wet T Shirt says otherwise....

Update

Lots happening...

A trip to Vaishnodevi...

Complimentary meals by GoAir (for no rhyme or reason I could think of)!!!

A 10 hour trek up and down... with views ranging from lovely mountainside to disgusting youngsters going up on ponies while oldies were going dandvat (दं ड व त  )!!!

Utter, crass commercialisation of faith!!!

An interesting train ride back, with even more interesting co-passengers and a couple of oh-so-cute kids!!

And finally, missing my flight for the next leg of my vacations!! 

I think one could say that I have been a trifle busy (in a nice sense of the word) of late, innit???

But then, I know I am a patient of inertia...

Trying to fight inertia... Let us see if I can win...

Updates...

Updates?
Well, let us see, chronologically...
Screwed up my exams royally in September!!!
Went on this awesome road trip throughout Rajasthan sector in Nov-Dec. (more on that later, maybe)
Got engaged on 12 Feb to a most amazing girl unlucky enough to agree to have me as a life partner!!
Completed my medicals today and passed A1.
Gearing up for the next round of exams!!

D Day Sans One

So, tomorrow is the stupid test.. And as usual, I am all at sea. The people around have studied quite a bit, and even taking help from them is not too feasible, considering the fact that it is an electronically administered test, with question numbers and answer choices changing at random in different sets...

Guess I should just give the diaries a rest and concentrate on the studies. But a couple of facts worth being placed on record. Firstly, Manish is in Delhi, so even if I flunk the test and have to go back, there will be one more good thing to look forward to, or rather at least one good thing to look forward to. Secondly, the people senior to me did not come for the course, so I am stuck as the course senior. Stupid responsibilities and no power. Thirdly, the day per se was a mass of briefings, briefings and more briefings, designed to only jumble up whatever clarity existed in our minds about the stupid test... But then, I hear my books calling out for me, so I should better heed their call... Wish me luck, please...

Coimbatore: The First Sunday

After having had enough of adventures to last me the entire month, if not the year, in the first half of Saturday, the only adventurous part of Saturday evening was a glorious capitulation by India in the cricket World Cup. But to be truthful, it was an exciting match which livened up the evening..

The night was uneventful, and it was a gloriously sunny though warm Sunday waiting for me. That, and as I later discovered, two clogged drains of my bathroom. If your bathroom drains are clogged completely, it makes bathing and washing slightly difficult, as I had the reason to rediscover this morning.  Anyways, after somehow going through with my morning rituals and ablutions, I managed to make my way to the dining hall just in time for the waiters to give me one dosa before closing shop, with me sitting there and hoping they would get me some more... Finally realisation dawned and I decided to gather the remains of my dignity and come out with a sarcastic 'thank you' to the closed kitchen door.

There seems to be some theory gaining ground in my mind that realisations are like budhu fish of Cannanore, in that they come in waves. So, as a proof, another realisation came to me that I needed a haircut in order to look well groomed and smart, as my seniors would like me to. The natural course of action would be to head to the nearest barber shop, as that is what any prudent person would do. Now I do not know too many people who swear by my prudence, but I decided to follow the prudent course. Leg it to the nearest barber shop I did. Only to find it closed. After a few inquiries I was told that the shop opens only at 4:30 pm. Somewhat surprising I did find it but then the barber is also entitled to his eccentricities, so I did not pursue the matter further. I decided to make a heave ho for the next nearest barber shop. And I do not think it would surprise anyone to know that I found that closed too, with the info that it will open only after 6 pm. Would it be too much to say that Coimbatore surprises me?

And the third and as yet final wave of realisations to hit me on this bright Sunday was the fact that I should study. Correction, I need to study. Another correction, I better study if I have to have any semblence of a remotely fighting chance of trying to get away with a scrape at the passing marks of the entrance test of the course I am supposed to undertake on Tuesday. So, on that note I am off. Not to study but for lunch. For obviously, time is an illusion and lunch time, doubly so.

Coimbatore Diaries: Arrival

So, the hallowed day of March the 12th, 2011 finally arrived and almost saw me getting drunk in the bar... I mean, just before midnight I managed to yank myself free of temptations and come back to my room for a nice good small sleep of three and some change hours before I was to set course for Coimbatore... The place where my stay might range from a few days to a month, depending on how i perform in a stupid test I have to take in a couple of days. But we will cross the bridge once we reach it.

So, at the predesignated, though unholy, time of 5 am, yours truly was all decked up and ready with his bags packed, waiting for the vehicle to take him to the IGI airport. The vehicle promptly arrived at 5:10, and what a sight it was.. It could put the best limos of Las Vegas to shame- a vintage 80's model Mahindra classic jeep, whose sound could make a whooping cough appear positively calming and soothing to the ears.

Anyways, we set course. I asked the driver if he knew the way, and he said he was sure of the way. Being a naturally trusting (!) person, I shut my big mouth up so as not to offend the hallowed driver any more. All went smooth till we reached about a third of the way, except for the fact that I was running around half an hour behind time because it was against the dignity of the venerable vehicle to move at more than 40 kmph. Then we had the first adventure of the day. The clutch cable of the vehicle (shame be on me to call it a mere vehicle) broke. Luckily we were in fourth gear, and God willing we could have made it to the airport maintaining 40 kmph hopefully in time to catch the flight, albeit a la DDLJ train.

God, as it would be seen, was not willing. The driver, more confident of his knowledge of the Delhi road maze than Arjuna would have been of crossing one layer of the Chakra Vyuha, confessed to me that he was lost. And as luck would have it, our v. vehicle also stopped in the middle of some complicated aerobatic maneuver the driver was trying to perform. A million prayer and incantations to the 84 crore odd Gods and Goddesses later, the v. vehicle decided to start again but only in the second gear this time. Now was time for some desperate measures. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and told the driver to stop the v. vehicle at the next red light. The driver looked at me with more horror than you would look at your neighbours if you all of a sudden realise that you were in the august company of Jack the Ripper, Mary Antoniette, Adolf Hitler and George W Bush (sorry Mr Blair, you still have some way to go to reach there). I had to spell it out for him that I knew it involved stopping the v. vehicle again. Reluctantly, he agreed and did as I asked.

Finally I got hold of a cab of some BPO who agreed to take me to the airport, only after telling him that my best friend was from the same place as him in Bihar, and also greasing his palms with a laughing Gandhi printed on one side of a cracking Rs 1000 bill (btw that taxi fare from this place to the airport was Rs200, but there was no taxi around, of course).

Usain Bolt would have been proud of the dashes (and dots) i made to catch the flight, but catch it I finally did. The rest of the journey was uneventful, or so I thought when I reached the sweltering heat of Coimbatore airport. Got a cab easily enough and reached the place I was supposed to stay. Now, being one of the more senior guys around, they had (have!) given me the furthest room from the hub center of the activities. Normally, I would rather like than dislike the distance, but to complicate the issue the distance is more vertical than horizontal, and in a further twist in the tale the lift was out of order. So, I had to lug up all my 35 kg plus of luggage up some 6 flights of stairs, and then drag it the horizontal distance too!!

Finally, I reached my room, hoping to have a refreshing cup of tea before I took a bath and settled down. This brought a smile to my lips as I had brought along one of my souvenirs from USA, a coffee mug from Chicago, for this very purpose. But as I opened the bag, I saw the mug was in four different pieces of different shapes and sizes...

And it is not yet nine hours since I left the cosy comfort of my room!!! If the rest of the time is gonna be a fraction as eventful, I am in for one hell of a time... But that as they say is not history, so it will be posted here as and when it happens...

Thanks, if anyone reads this, for a listening ear...

Of Flags And Flagrantly (Funny?) Fundamental Failures...

I know this post is a bit behind the times, but I do feel behind the times right now.

It is behind the times because it is about proposed plans of Ms Sushma Swaraj and company from BJP Inc to hoist the national flag at Lal Chowk in Srinagar on 26 Jan.

But before I put forth my views, let me make one thing clear. I think BJP is a bag full of stinking donkey excreta, and so is the Congress. I do not think either of them is worthy of my attention, forget about following or affiliation.

Coming to the reason for this diatribe, I was following the story of the B people trying to hoist the flag in Srinagar, and the C (and the NC) people stopping them from doing so. I was following this story, and getting disgusted. My point is, as a free citizen of India, I should be allowed to exercise my constitutionally guaranteed right of hoisting my national flag at any place inside the country, unless specifically delineated out of bounds in the Constitution.

Now, coming to the rationale behind not allowing the flag hoisting. It was said that this is sheer political opportunism, to which I may or may not subscribe but that is, in my views, inconsequential. It was said that this is a law and order disaster in the making, what with the valley just about limping back to normalcy after months of boiling rage. Again, I may or may not agree, but for argument's sake, let us concede this point.

Does the threat of an imminent law and order breakdown allow the government to withdraw the fundamental rights of a citizen? I agree that the citizen in question may not be following his fundamental duties but this does not mean that the government, as the executor and guarantor of the individual's fundamental rights, has the authority to take the easy way out in carrying out its own duty of maintaining law and order by crushing remorselessly the rights of the individual.

A case which comes to mind is that of Rev Terry Jones from Florida, USA who wanted to burn copies of the Holy Qu'ran on 11 Sept 2010. It was stupid, almost entire US agreed. It was dangerous for the troops deployed in the East, entire US agreed. But there was no government intervention except in an advisory capacity. There was no move to forcefully stop him from doing so, even in the face of international pressure.

I am not a fan of USA and its policies. But I do admire its sincerity in upholding the fundamental rights of its citizens. And I do admire its media, or at least sections of it, for presenting the news in an unbiased manner.

After all this, I am left wondering when, if ever, will we mature as a nation and realise the importance of our rights and their inviolability.

The Half Remarkable Question

I was sitting. And pondering. And that is not a good situation for me to be in, for in such a case I begin thinking of things I have no control over, no means of changing.

But today, Lady Luck was smiling on me, or so it would seem. Cos I chanced upon something that would do all the thinking for me, and let me just drown in it and go off to a comfortable stupor. So, I am sharing it here. Ladies and gentlemen, presenting before you the Incredible String Band.

Who moved the black castle
Who moved the white queen
When Gimmel and Daleth where standing between?
Out of the evening growing a veil

Pining for the pine woods that ached for the sail

There's something forgotten I want you to know
The freckles of rain are telling me so
O it's the old forgotten question
What is that we are part of?
What is it that we are?

And an elephant madness has covered the sun
The judge and the juries they play for the fun
They've torn up the roses and washed all the soap
And the martyr who marries them dares not elope
O it's the never realised question

O long O long e're yet my eyes
Braved the gates enormous fire
And the body folded 'round me
And the person in me grew

The flower and its petal
The root and its grasp
The earth and its bigness
The breath and its gasp
The mind and its motion
The foot and its move
The life and its pattern
The heart and its love
O it's the half-remarkable question. 

Shades of Deep Purple

Is there a black or a white? Or are there only shades of gray?

What we see all around us, the myriad colours- of nature, of humanity- are they black or white too? And what about our relationships? We try and see so many colours in them, but do they really exist in those many colours?

Okay, to shorten it out, there are in my belief, no blacks, no whites, no shades of deep purple or any other colour. I think the world is a blend of various shades of gray. But the transition of a person from one end of the grayscale to the other, over a period of time, is what fascinates me the most.

The only pure white in this world of gray for an agnostic like me would be the God, by whose mercy there still exist a few who do not change their shade of gray. They turn out to be the ones you choose as your eye soothing, hart warming shades.

So, which shade of gray are you?

Relativity

It all boils down to choice... Choice, and causality.

You have a choice, you make a decision. The decision is a cause, which leads to a certain effect. Now having taken that decision, it is no right of yours to crib about the effects of those decision.

And when you have a shot at redemption, you want to take it. But the cost of redemption is a blow to your ego. The cost of redemption is the admission that your choice was wrong, you are the cause of the effect that is hurting you. But then, the ego is big. No, it is huge, it is monster sized. So it does not let you accept that you were wrong, that you could have been wrong, that you were the one at fault. So you lose the chance to redeem the things that you pine for, or at least you say you pine for.

It is all relative. The feeling of enjoyment you had when you made the choice was relative, and so is the feeling of sadness you experience now. The fullness then was relative, and so is the emptiness now. The ego you have to assuage is relative, and so are the relationships or lack thereof.

After all, Einstein was not too far from the truth at the time when asked to explain relativity in a layman's words he said, " In the company of a beautiful woman an hour seems like eternity while when next to a furnace and nothing else, an hour seems like eternity."

Politics

It was my last day of this posting in the city beautiful- Chandigarh.

Now, the times were turbulent would be one of the bigger understatements this side of the Big Bang. When a close friend has stabbed you in the back, having some other good friends helps.

It was one such friend, someone who shall henceforth be known as K, who is a central figure in this narrative.

So, K calls me in the evening and asks me what I am doing in the evening. Now a call by a young woman asking my for my engagement inthe evening would be an event in itself, but it was no ordinary woman. It was K. And so it was not a young lady, it was a good friend. And hence I told her that I was tired after all the packing and running around and just wanted to hit the sack early. K being K, told me, "Nothing doing. You're coming with me to watch a movie tonight."

Such being her authority, at sharp 8:15 pm I was standing outside her door with my wellbeloved Thunerbird (not to be confused with the other Wellbeloved, the Geaorge Cyril W. of Wodehouse infamy). She comes out with her helmet and we head across to the PVR located close by.

We watch the movie, and come out at 12ish in the night. By this time, it was pouring cats and dogs. I asked her whether she wanted to go back in the rain or wait till the fury of the rain god reduced. She was game for going back in the rain, and I for one do not mind a bit of a splash at any time. So off we went towards the base.

A red light short of base, I had an idea.

"K, wanna take a ride in the rain?"

"Sure!"

And then we went off. Rode around 40 km. Went at a speed of 100 in blinding rain on the wrong side of the road. Deliberately crossed puddles of water. And laughed our guts out. Decided to have tea. Had tea and sutta by the roadside next to the bus stand. And came back.

Next day, I left Chandigarh. Now that I look back on the two years that I spent there, that is one of the first things that comes to my mind...

PS: K, I know you wont read trash like this. But you were, and still are, as good a friend as anyone can hope for. A toast to you.

Barsaat Ki Baat

There was this guy in Delhi, who was there for a couple of months... Being in a city of large distances and maddening traffic, he had brought with him his first love- his Royal Enfield Thunderbird.

Now he had quite a bit of time spare from work, his work finishing at 11 am everyday. So her decided he would catch up with all his friends in Delhi. And that he did. In the process there was this one girl who became a real close friend of his.

Now this friend had to go to Mumbai one fine Friday evening, to spend some time with her (oh so lucky) boyfriend. And she wanted someone to drop her off at the airport, as she was not too willing to trust a Delhi autowallah (which I take as a personal insult, considering that I am also a part of the three wheeler driver fraternity). So she asked this guy to pick her up from her hostel and drop her off at the airport. Our guy was only too happy to oblige.

So he reached the hostel, right on time.And what was he welcomed with?? Pouring rain. The heavens had opened up, to check the resolve of both the guy and the bike. And it being a Girls' Hostel, he could not go inside to take shelter either. No other shelter around. So he waited, and got soaked to all 206 odd bones in his body. And the girl got stuck in a traffic jam, caused by the same oh-so-welcome September rain of Delhi. So he had to wait some more.

Finally the girl arrives. On the cue, the rain lets up. And they promptly set course for the airport.

Enroute, something happens which is the only reason for this entire blog post.

The guy stops the bike at a petrol pump to fill some gas. The guy was about to take out his wallet when the girl pipes up, "You're going to drop me off, so I'll pay."

Now the guy did not like this, and told the girl as much. And years have passed, and cusecs of water has flown by in hardly moving Yamuna of Delhi, but still the girl does not know why the guy did not like her offer... Any views and/or explanations??

No Peace, Only War

"Saab, ye post clear hai... "
Ah, finally... He thought he was dying.. He would beat the kaafirs, for one last time.. He would not get caught... The blissful darkness enveloping him...

There was a mass of iron weighing heavy on his head. On his head, or in it? The effort to deduce this was too much, and he passed off again...

He did not want light. It blinded him, it made him want to tear his own eyes off... But the kaafirs, they made him look directly into the glare of sunshine magnified by the snow capped mountains and valleys. He was surprised, though... They were treating him well.. Actually, well treating was a relative term.. Getting two square meals a day, fifteen thousand feet above the sea level on a glacier was as good as he could hope to get..

The  destruction at their camp had been total. Even in the pitch dark of the night, the enemy fighters had decimated their posts to rubble. He had overheard that there had been only four prisoners captured alive, rest all were dead. And today, the doc was supposed to check him and report on his progress to the kaafirs...

"He is fit enough to be interrogated. But if you want him alive, do not push him too hard.. You would not want a repeat of the other case, I guess... You were a bit too brutal with him, I thought" The doc was telling the young captain. Bastard, he thought. A 25 odd year old guy, holding absolute power over him.

"What is your name, rank and unit?"
"Company Havildar Major Rahim Khan, 7Infantry Division."

"Ali saab, ye bhi 7 Div ka hi hai. Is ko custody mein bhej do."

One of his own working with the kaafirs? Was it a Godsent signal to try and escape? He could see the hills of his homeland in the not too distant landscape!!

"Ali saheb, aap mujhe qaid mein daalne ja rahe hain."
"Shh.. Dheere bolo."

He was being directed away from the camp. The ravine over there, it would be ideal for his escape. He could not believe his luck!!

Now they were at the edge of the ravine.. He could feel the shackles being removed from his hands behind his back...

"Go!"

He needed no second invite.. He was off into the ravine before the word reached his ears..

"Rahim Khan!"

He turned back startled. Ali had his AK 47 lined up. He did not hear the sound, he felt the pain first... A pain, and a queer warmth spreading over his chest...

"Ali saab, wo naye PoW ko bhi usi ravine mein hi daala hai?"

"Haan sirji"

"Theek hai. After all, no point carrying extra baggage. The bugger even when unconscious was mumbling about Geneva!!"



PS: I know this is a poor effort for the second half of the story, but am just not able to express the thoughts.. All apologies..

War and Peace

War, in the words of General William T Sherman, is hell. He knew that. In fact, he knew that even training for war is hell. But what hell is, what war really is, was beyond his worst imagination.

All of a sudden, a smile came onto his lips. A wry smile, emanating from the conflict of thoughts as to whether or not he will have plenty of time to think it over and philosophise about war. For he knew he was about to be taken as a prisoner of war. His post had been destroyed in the enemy shelling and he was one of the only two men left alive. Two out of a merry company of twenty eight young men!! The Lieutenant was not the best of leaders, but he was still an ok chap... May his soul rest in peace... The only other person alive was the signaller, and he would have been better dead. A radio antenna is not likely to be much comfort to a signaller if the antenna tip is securely lodged in the operator's abdomen, or so he felt... Not that there was anything of the radio left...

And he could see the kaafirs advancing now.. They were treading cautiously, not knowing the extent of damage inflicted on his post. Cowards!! But how would they treat him? A royal welcome was unlikely, he thought and smiled again. He had heard stories of torture and abuse of prisoners of war. Hell, he had himself tortured a pilot who had had to eject from his MiG 21 and had landed in their area. At that time it had seemed fun...

The thought of torture was starting to take root in his mind. Initially he tried to think brave. Let them do whatever, I will not say a word. The only things I will tell is my name, rank and unit. If they try to torture me, I will take the name of Geneva Convention. Hell, how many times did we honour it??

One of the enemy was nearing him now. He thought of committing suicide, but he would require the use of his hands for that... And he did not have those, at least not what he could use...

(to be continued...)

La Belle et la Bête

A Halloween night was not the best of times to give up the familiar confines of Hard Rock Cafe and end up venturing to some upstart lounge bar called Enter The Dragon in Koregaon Park, he decided over a sip of Jack Daniels. Of course, the fact that Celine Deon was trying to be haunting while singing 'Beauty and the Beast' might have had something to do with it. But in his heart he knew he would have enjoyed it, had he been with Pragya.
He kept thinking of their times together. Those knotted fingers, not ready to leave each others' comfort even when an upright septuagenarian of the society would clear his throat loudly every time he passed by on his evening walk. Those stolen kisses, that seemed to start for a moment and lingered on forever.. It was kind of funny thinking of those times in this environment- the romantic images providing a stark contrast in his mind to the visual inputs he was receiving at the moment, surrounded by devils, vampires, death eaters and what not!!
"Pragya!" He called out as a silken touch on the back of his neck brought him out of his trance like state.
"Oops! I am so sorry" This was a woman in a black, off shoulder gown who was dressed up as a vampire.
"It's ok" He muttered as she floated away towards the bar.
This girl was interesting, he thought. She was not really a mirror cracking beauty, though she had an exquisiteness in features few others could have hoped to match. Her cheekbones were the defining feature of her face, or were they? The blue of her eyes stood out in contrast to her fair to a fault complexion. But there was something that struck a jarring note. Her face seemed pale, almost chalk white. But what was the point thinking about her, and he returned to his drink.
"Would you mind terribly if I shared the table with you?" Again the same girl. "There is no table which is vacant, and since you seem to be alone....." She trailed off.
"It would be a pleasure" He somehow stammered.
Now that he had an opportunity to study her, he tried to take her details in without ending up ogling at her. His attention was drawn to the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. The ring was made of silver, perhaps. But it was not the material which fascinated him. He was hooked up by the design on the ring. It was small, yet intricately carved. It could not have been a demonic beast, could it??
"Umm... I am Bella" She was saying.
"Oh! Hi, I am Rehan."
"So you are not really deaf. I have told you my name four times in the last ten minutes..."
How did I end up in this place, he was thinking. As he lay between the sheets after a night of passion, their bodies pressing together, he could really not recollect what led to what and they ended up at her place. What he did recollect, though, was an array of figurines of beasts of all kinds of ferocity in the hall, in the living room and here in the bedroom too..
Now, she was asleep, and he could study her at length. But still, he was fascinated by the beauty of the ring... He took her palm in his hands. It seemed so delicate, so... fragile. He looked at the ring, and the beast in the ring seemed to be looking back at him... It gave him an awkward feeling. Pragya's face flashed in his mind. But he willed those thoughts away.
The ring seemed to glide down her finger as he tried to take it off. She seemed to be waking up. On an impulse, he decided to put it on, knowing it would never fit him. Why, his little finger would be larger than Bella's thumb! But the ring fit, snug!
Bella turned towards him, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Strangely, the kiss seemed to leave a cold sensation. He tried to speak, but could not.
"Rehan. That is your name, right? I think you would fit well on my R shelf. As such, there are only three of them there."
He could not move, he could not say anything. He seemed to be losing all his senses.
"Thanks a lot for one more year of youth, sweetheart. And you were not too bad in the bed, either!"

Blah

Start writing about something. Stop inbetween. Give it up...

Story of last one week!!

Rants, and Happiness

It was the Halloween party last night.. Something that could get me excited, even after having spent 10 hours in the office on a Saturday!!

So, I called up all the 'friends' around and decided we will leave at 10-ish. And at 9:55 sharp, I was ready. But all the others were busy. Watching movies. Different movies, on DVDs. And after trying to persuade them to pause the movies and go for the party and failing, at 10:30 I decided I did not want to go to the party, after all. I know I was acting spoilt but my grudge was against the others taking their word, and my time, so lightly. Finally I was dragged along to the party at around 12.

Well, I went there. And boozed. And sat morosely in a corner. And finally came back with the last of our guys, at around 5 in the morning. And then, before I went off to sleep, I found happiness...