Friday, September 16, 2016

Bulleya.. Ve Ki Karaan..

Ever lived that moment when the clouds burst into a nearly perfect moment of enjoyment of light breeze? Arms stretched, eagerly waiting to take a flight with the very first drop that is hurriedly making way  from the heavens above? But the very drops hit you in a way that you just want to mix your soul into them and the only way you unknowingly do so by the burst in your eyes?

Ae Dil Hai Mushkil's Bulleya came as smack on my face and it's smile in not less than the same moments above. No one expect that feeling can exists or wants it to exit but it just hits you..

Why me.. is the only thing my soul could scream.. Muhajir.. But reality knows that no answers to past in the present..

Nevertheless, the song is not about me.. It is a movie and the characters living a situation a writer imagined with an ending that will soon come out on screen for the audience to judge and critique..
Yet the heart aches more when it reads everyone only saying positives about the song and all I am thinking.. Ve Ki Karaan..

A Ranjha is born for doom.. But why I am alone in feeling doomed when all any and everyone is writing about the song is the beauty of the song and the chemistry of the lead characters and the gorgeousness of the life they are living and the seduction of the talent in the visuals.. It kills me in every breadth for having the thoughts like this. I am speechless amidst all these thoughts and my feelings are dying to scream and cry till I can get that one hug that make me.. hmm.. no idea.. just that one hug..

Sufism has never been my kind.. maybe because, as I feel now, it's my language and therefore my mirror. The mirror never dusty, for all the good, the bad and the ugly..

The words by Amitabh Bhattacharya with the musical arrangement, replete with a band, by Pritam hit me hard unlike I was expecting or could have imagined. The visuals are stunning but I do wish the connoisseurs of music can get above Ayan and Saba, to experience what heartbroken souls go through when they find each other for a doomed hug of life.

Hafiz tera.. murshid mera..

Kyun aaj main muhabbat phir ek baar karna chahu..

Milney tujhse bagawat phir aaj karna chahu..

Ve Ranjhana..

Ve Ki Karaan..

Bulleya..


Friday, June 3, 2016

Poor Cock Tanmay Bhatt



The Biggest News of the week to take the nation, as we know that always wants to know, has undoubtedly been Tanmay Bhatt.. Well finally the not so poor guy’s Big size comes to some Big use for the Country reeling with severe drought of Real News.

The funny guy snapchatted a seemingly innocent faceswap video titled Sachin v/s Lata: Civil War. If we go by our beloved Indian News Channels and the ant-like colonised pseudo intellectuals on Twitter, almost entire country took offense to the video and wanted to really, I mean literally, roast Tanmay Bhatt. Imagine the Big Roasted Cock (nee Murga) that had, well 'reportedly’ had, the drought hit nation salivating.

And we say India is regressive and homophobic. Duh.

At present the Nation has got new things to know. But amidst all of this, the biggest looser is not Tanmay, not even our News Channels and Twitter leeches but poor old Snapchat.

Think about it. Everyone forgets about Snapchat videos within 24 hours of the post, and here the App had a such a big and think juicy cock who made its limited period video engraved in Indian history forever and ever, with a super hilarious Faceswap feature but no one talked or free-wala promoted the App on News Channels and Twitter.
Talk about bad luck of Holocaust level. Aww.

The cock, aka Tanmay Bhatt, never appeared on a single news channel or gave any front page Bombay Times interview and instead tweeted to check his statement on his Snapchat ID and BullShitt … Still no mention of Snapchat.

What a Deep Bad Luck the news puffed out of Snapchat.

Sorry Baba Ramdev, but 2-minute silence for Snapchat.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Family Matters... Under Pressure!!

Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you, no man ask for
Under pressure that burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets

It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming, "Let me out!"
Tomorrow gets me higher
Pressure on people - people on streets

Chippin' around, kick my brains 'round the floor
These are the days - it never rains but it pours
People on streets - people on streets

Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don't work
Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn
Why, why, why?

Love

Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?
Why can't we give love that one more chance?
Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love?..

'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance, This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure, Under pressure
Pressure 


Words fall short to describe my feelings as despite under pressure from life, I get to find that the song that appeared in the movie from my graduation days is by none other that Queen, whose song "Bohemian Rhapsody" later became the very first song I adapted into a theatrical play script while I was sitting on college stairs, under pressure for my first ever College Interview.

I could not clear the admission process, coincidentally much like Matthew Kidman, the lead protagonist, and also felt letting down my parents, just like Mat.

Family matters, but so do Dreams!

Mat later did achieve his dreams; with a slight change of path, even as the dreams only developed into a better shape.

I too have dreams. They too are regularly evolving. But the journey to achievement will only be mine and I have to take chances, even if it means taking chances with Family.

How much chances will you take for your family love?
How much free can you let go for your family love?
How much family love is too much?
Who decides this "how much"?

"Family Love", it has to be the trickiest of all relationships for me; which is weird as it is meant to be the easiest and most natural of any relationship. It is always there, apparently; no matter any amount of fights and/ or bad mouthing, the blood relationship always remains as an emotional connect for the members - whether they accept it or not. The connect may fluctuate, as in "how much", but it can and will never ever be nullified. Well, at least that I would like to believe and keep my faith in.

I am a dreamer. Every now and then, I love to quote from books, movies and songs and the stories go on. The guy I am dating presently, Akshay, told me that I live by them a lot and should better look for inspiration in people around me. To that I always tell myself that I am an optimist, sometimes a way too optimist.

But the complete truth is that I do see a lot of negativity around - my parents (who are stubborn to the 'worldly fact' that they are elder to me and have reached a certain age that is beyond any change for personality), some of my closest friends and sadly at times my dates too (which especially make me wonder why really I am with them, especially after a one casual remark by my friend Manish few years ago, that their imperfections make me look better in front of them. I still can not let go of this thought as I am yet to decipher it.), but mostly inside my soul which has seen a lot of lonely moments. That is why even the bleak opportunity of seeing a ray of light from the quagmire I am tied in, I jump at that moment to seize it.

Maybe this entire negativity is in me only that I see in others because "Beauty, or as in this case negativity, lies in the eyes of the beholder".

At this moment of my thinking process, I just want to stick with the science of photography which says that, "Beautiful pictures develop from the negatives"

Being a strong believer in Karma, I accept the truth that, "God will never give you more than you can handle". So for the dark nights I have braved in my past, all alone, crying to the verge of feeling suicidal or running away, I have also been blessed with the brightest and happiest days. I never questioned the latter, then who am I to question the other side of the coin. I will never stop working on myself to attain my inner peace and remove every ounce of negativity and depression from myself. I just hope I don't let down the people who have stood by me in thick and thin.

Like the dialogue in the beautiful short "Café com Leite", "It's always hard to get used to things when they change. But in the end... Who knows?"

Just the process of expressing the little part of me above, in all its imperfections, somehow started the musical original score of the magical "UP" in my mind, with flashes of the beautiful story seemingly warming my heart.




This is who I am. I am normal and I am life, with all its days and nights. Breathing each day to grow out of every deep buried regret from life. There will always be bumps, it is for me to either feel them as important enough to sit there and repair them, losing time, or just take them as a stepping stone. I know when I will be truly happy with myself, my Karma will be truly happy for me too.

Now who decides this "True Happiness"?

I belong to a very average middle class family which aim for the skies but at the end of the day, are happy to "settle" with "adjustments". 

वक़्त से पहले और नसीब से ज़्यादा किसी को कुछ नही मिलता
कहीं ज़मीन तो कहीं आसमान नहीं मिलता
कभी किसी को मुकम्मल जहाँ नही मिलता

Like any other family, my family loves me, and so do I too. I may not have ever been able to express it to them but I will love them to eternity. But my childhood has been such that after clear thought process over the past few days, I feel I need to move out of my house, in order to save and nurture my relationship with my family. 

Why do I say so?

I am no one to judge or compare myself with anyone, for no one can ever and must never do that as it will never yield any result. But my childhood, any adolescence and my teenage life have not exactly been the picture of an average or may I say, to the risk of sounding arrogant, normal growing up years for an Indian boy.

My brother, ever since I came out to my family, has been calling me "attention seeker", any and every time he brings up my sexuality as a topic. Initially I did feel suicidal at this name calling but lately I grew past my initial outbursts and took it as a challenge on why he should feel this way. It is the exact challenge I took during my Asmita Theater days when on a  share-your-feeling kind of moment, my theater senior Pradeep Thakur called me "opportunist", or as I remember his exact words in full group presence - मौकाप्रस्त !
 
After a lot, and I mean A LOT, self analysis, I realised I like being popular. I was always popular. Just like I was always good at seizing opportunity and making the best of time.

Which brings me back to my growing up years...

I was a super hyper child. I started speaking comparatively very early, like I started crawling and even walking early. I always enjoyed being the popular child. I remember my kindergarten and junior school years where I used to get rakhi tied on both of my hands till my arms. I don't have any picture memories of same or my parents never seemed to recall for me the exact age of my first walk or my first crawl or my first word. I feel these are the things a parent must remember, preferably with a photo album, to embarrass their child. It is always a good embarrass and one every child deserve. I know I will be so loving but also embarrassing for my kids.

Now this above feeling or dream is exactly what I kind of needed to tell my difference in grwing up years.

I was fed, or may I say, I was unknowingly brought up to a very "western" style of living. My parents loved taking us out for movies but its the Hollywood films I remember mostly - well that and the Govinda movies and one Akshay starer Mohra which are responsible for my love for dance and all thing drama.

At home I loved watching the English cartoons but unlike any regular boy, I loved noticing and unconsciously picking up their lifestyles too. So the way Dexter and DeeDee responded totheir  family, school and dinner, it all slowly became a part of my ALTER EGO. And so did the characteristics of characters from Mask (his office and party style), Powerpuff Girls (their popularity and please all personality), Flintstones (the friendship of Fred and Barney), Heidi (the peaceful life up in the mountains), Spiderman (the superhero phenomenon), Cinderella (Karma), Mummies Alive (Fantasy in Reality) and Tom and Jerry (Craziness).

But it was not just the cartoons I grew up on. I used to read Tintin, at least try to, and Famous Five, Agatha Christie, Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, plus the Archie and Jughead stories. For TV, as the dawn of Cable era began, I got glued to The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Will and Grace, I Dream of Jeanie, Seinfield, Full House... Basically all things Zee Café...

I never saw any show in full but they did leave an impression on the vulnerable dreamy kid I was and I still am, to an extent. So even as I later started with Americal Idol or Modern Family or Glee or The Vampire Diaries, I was taking in the lifestyle.

I don't know if it is unhealthy but what is done is done. Add to that, I never really got to share the stories of these shows with anyone. Few times I did think and brood over my watching these shows, but I was alone, I was lonely, I was scared and these shows kept the dreamer in me alive. Like I said, what is done is done.

I am still a kid; the child in me is still growing up, despite the real time 27 years age. And so, I love anything and everything to grab - be it books or movies or songs. And this very child has felt that lifestyle of children moving out and struggling in real world to make ends meet, despite their parents support and money. This child needs to live that life, as this is the only life he has understood psychologically.

Which brings me to my Family again...

There was a time I blamed my family on their face in Amritsar for being a reckless parent but soon I realised they are just amateur as everyone is. It was and is and will never be their fault. They are living this life only once too and they are doing what best they can. It's just I got to experience life in a different manner but they never meant and will never will mean anything less that best for me. I am the mature one here as I understand myself. I hope one day they understand what is this maturity of me, as we live happily ever after, even if that means away from each other.

Away from each other...

I now recall two bits of this away from each other.
1) My get-away to Jaipur, and
2) My Goa Trip

Both times, it strengthened my bond with my parents, even if it was for a small period. But now, distance is required and not just vacation-distance, but Living-My-Adult-Life Distance. More than for them, I need to be selfish and live away from them, to realise my life's worth and shake off all my laziness and fears of taking chances.

Distance makes Hearts grow fonder, when there is True Love, or as in this case, Family Love. Because the High school boy in me is Under Pressure from his Best Friend aka his Alter Ego to live not just a Wonderful but also a Popular story for his Life's Yearbook aka Adventure Book, where he starts writing to finish, 

"I will always remember that... the juice was worth the squeeze."

Hello Memories, Inside Out

Life is a movie and and it has its music, even in silences.

A few days ago, while watching "Exodus: Gods and Kings", as my mother sat along with me, I remember saying to her, "where and when did I read about these things. it must be the school library where probably I used to spent a lot of time, as I try to remember now, and where I used to read anything and everything I could lay my hands on, mostly unfinished reading, but I assume, those especially had the most effect on me, as my dreams completed them.".

Today, while watching "Thor: The Dark World" and telling my mother, again, about the film and the Greek Gods, I said those same lines again.

Well, let me be honest, I did say the same lines, nth times in my head, but only till "...lay my hands on.". The rest is what I felt both times.

I was a normal child just living and feeling extraordinary circumstances that my life was to be.

Isn't this the case with everyone? We all walk in our own skin, nobody can ever be judged because we don't know their journey. My journey, just got layered with exciting stories, and even more exciting ways I recalled them with cliched metaphors, film dialogues and being all vicarious, as my last boyfriend told me. But you know what they say about cliches? They are all true.

I was like the perfect boy, well so I felt and even got complimented from teachers and relatives and girls. *hehe*

As I recall now, every day went as they were meant to be for the perfect grown up man I was being raised to be. But then things got monotonous and reality started sinking in.

Perfection is boring, well so I feel now, as I can not remember any crests and troughs in my Kindergarten, Montessori years. It almost feels robotic now, as if did those years mattered nothing for me to remember them. The new years, the birthdays, the christmas, the rakhi, the public holidays, the family holidays, the passing out school ceremonies, the gurupurabs and just about everything. Like everything got dumped like that in Inside Out.

They are now leaving me with me empty heart today. Or so as i feel as I can not share much from the perfect days, when my imperfections in the latter days, especially my adolescence, teen and now the 20s are shaping up to laugh, cry, wine, scream, fear, disgust, dream and even suicidal.

Nuff said..

Life isn't finished yet, and this is not the way I will let go my legacy, no matter if anyone knows it or not. I am always sleeping every night with it. And I want to sleep with a smile, even if nobody sees it.

2016 has been the real eye-opened for me, in terms of relationships and friendships. I have had three break-ups, all where I took the baton to end first, and a fourth one seemingly on its way.

#EndFirst.. #SuchIsLife

Hello, it's me, I was wondering
If after all these years you'd like to meet to go over everything
They say that time's supposed to heal, yeah
But I ain't done much healing

Hello, can you hear me?
I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be
When we were younger and free
I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet

There's such a difference between us
And a million miles

Hello from the other side
I must've called a thousand times 
To tell you I'm sorry, for everything that I've done
But when I call you never seem to be home

Hello from the outside
At least I can say that I've tried 
To tell you I'm sorry, for breaking your heart
But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore

Hello, how are you?
It's so typical of me to talk about myself, I'm sorry
I hope that you're well
Did you ever make it out of that town where nothing ever happened?

It's no secret
That the both of us are running out of time

So hello from the other side
I must've called a thousand times 
To tell you I'm sorry, for everything that I've done
But when I call you never seem to be home

Hello from the outside
At least I can say that I've tried 
To tell you I'm sorry, for breaking your heart
But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore..

Anymore..
Anymore..
Anymore..
Anymore..
Anymore..

Hello from the other side
I must've called a thousand times 
To tell you I'm sorry, for everything that I've done
But when I call you never seem to be home

Hello from the outside
At least I can say that I've tried 
To tell you I'm sorry, for breaking your heart
But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore.


This song, the lyrics were like destined to be part of my life. I skipped innumerable times to mention them and each time a different story it was. From screaming to my past and so many people in it on my first ever listen to shouting on losing myself to bear scared of the image I saw of myself in the mirror.. Hello spoke to me on levels that I don't want to even feel for the thought of not being to forget them for their exhaustive and frightful levels.

The song was labelled "Pedestrian Lyrics" in a fleeting review I read and everyday I am getting to understand the meaning of the review - Pedestrian is every moment, now and then, in life. And no matter the riches, we all are Pedestrian at some place or another. "Words are our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of inflicting injury and remedying it". Hello has the most shocking, metaphorical lyrics to have hit my soul psychologically.

I look into the mirror everyday and my pics and I don't recognise the person in it. My reality has become so far fetched that I am so removed from that perfect boy I started my life out as. It was boring but it did not have any pain.

Now I am having the brightest of sunny days and the lord above is super gracious to compliment me with the equivalent storms to bear. I am living them all, amidst the thunderstorms in me.

Circa November 25, 2015..

I get the good news of being promoted to Assistant Producer post. It was Gurupurab and I was joining office to a morning shift after a 9 days sabbatical of bad health. I instantly decide to follow my heart and go Rakab Ganj Gurudwara, which is like ages as I could not recall then or even now when was my last time, but definitely with my parents, in a la perfect yet apparent dumped life. I cry there, then enjoy my favorite ladoo ka prasad and dash to meet Naveen and his boyfriend at Lodhi Gardens. It was the beginning of relationship classes for me, which I felt I had mastered but life goes on till our last heartbeats.

I knew Naveen's background quite well, married with a child but in relationship with another Guy, who happens to be his boss and how once his wife read his WhatsApp conversation and literally broke down but Naveen did very good damage control and convinced her of otherwise. But still I fell for him in first look. He was perfect boyfriend material by looks, smile and laugh and I loved hugging him. And truth be told, I was shattered when he came out to me about his marriage and child over phone because I was falling for him. But then, this particular snacks and drinks (wine for the couple, lemonade for me) date had me find one of the best lines about relationship from Naveen's boyfriend.

No one knows how long anything will last, it may get over today, tomorrow, next week, one month, a year or may live for lifetime, which by itself is not-defined. So lets just live each moment and be thankful that even they happened.

It's so true. No one knows the finished for the unfinished We all live one life. We don't know the number of people who might be craving or needing what we already have. Lets live.

And so I knew that Naveen is in good hands. Heartbroken I was, but happy that I have a brother now and he was happy in that moment. We exchanged more personal information later and since it has got stronger only, and I promise not that I won't ruin it, but I promise I will work on it and make it even more stronger.

As for me, I still say, scream, shout, whisper, gulp my Hellos. I need to say Hello to myself. Let go of the regrets of my unfinished works and find a suitable ending to those chapters, at least through my writings, where I can be strip my thoughts naked. Be my Inside Out and built up a new Memories.

Part 1/2: Inside Out Ending

Part 2/2: Inside Out Ending

I may be lost but I'm not done with my Hellos. I'll finish my chapters, as above. I will live Inside Out.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Wedding Vows or Woes?

"Sometimes you realise the journey you've been taking has reached its final stop. So the question becomes, where do you go next."

Lord knows how this dreamy eyed kid has always loved everything about weddings. Indeed there has been time when I dressed shabbily to a wedding a child to protest, albeit silently, about my pathological need to dress up like Prince Charming at the wedding in new dress or at least all wedding-y. But I have never ever felt bad at a wedding. I always loved showering attention to the bride and/or groom and their families and even the guests, by being my charming self, even if that meant dancing, which I always did with my heart-out loud.

Weddings makes me feel good, no matter the extravagant or the simple they are. They make me feel good because it is the most joyous moment in life; it is always meant to be so, no matter the culture or generation you belong to. Bringing a life to this world in the form of a child, be it first or another number, is precious but wedding is one which is for lifetime - not even children are for lifetime; they will have to eventually move on.

Why I am being that little kid all over again?

-- The little kid who was all smiles riding the horse with his Mother's brother on his wedding, even as the kid's elder brother was too scared to do same.

-- The little kid who eventually feels he literally grew up on wedding in family to ultimately mean Delhi Cantonment Gurudwara for Anand Karaj and Lavan Phere, apart from the wedding ground opposite the Gurudwara & the Taj Group of Hotels for Wedding Receptions and all thing wedding-y.

-- The little kid who still has the first suit he ever wore, apparently at Ishu mamu's reception. I can still feel the settings of the reception, the entry gate decked with flowers, the dance floor, the relatives and my love with dance floor in my very first suit.

-- The little kid feels happy to know about the wedding of anyone, be it a celebrity. And feels a kick knowing that he is writing this on the 9th Marriage Anniversay of Abhishek & Aishwarya Bachchan - two human beings so far away from his reality but still feel happy to have lived their wedding.

-- The little kid who has growing up feeling Aww whenever he seeing a smiling couple. It's like I am all the while expanding islands of relationship-goals, Inside-Out.

That little kid is now 27 year old, attending weddings of close friends and even school junior, for whom he always felt brotherly love. He still gets a smile of affection and love from the friends and parents for being an attendee; not to mention the relatives tell him to be in other functions as "who will dance if you won't come; you dance very good."

That little kid was always responsible, for his family and for his teachers and for the neighbors and for the relatives. He was never reckless like other kids his age. He was dreamy but never careless.

In all these years, the little kid grew old in age, but being responsible and careful did made him miss out on the childhood every child is meant to live. Fall down playing, get into fight with mates, have a broken limb or nose or dark eye, throw tantrums to get gifts and toys and bags and clothes, get scolded by teacher, break furniture in school, get handed over with a yellow card (a BBPS aka my school, thing for wrong doers) light firecrackers in schools and colleges, abuse and then quickly make up with besties, be carefree, make friends in society/ neighborhood, and just be a regular child.

The little kid who missed all still lives in me and as Anant, a friend I made on social network, shared about that kid once to me, he is still not outgrowing in me for me to live my age. I do live my age, but the kid still yearns to break free.

Which brings me to the Present..

I had been down with Chicken Pox since past two weeks (almost) but the disease is over now and only the weakness remains. Yet, I did made fair time to attend Karan's Cocktail and Wedding (2 day programme) and Mahak's Sangeet last night - all in three nights in a row.

However, back from Karan's wedding last night and the random little chat on stage when Karan said, "it's your number now" ended up a huge sentence for me. I could not sleep easy last night, woke up late, only to be emotionally weak and breaking my certain wank pact to self.

Not that I don't want my number to be next, but I am scared when will it be. I am very scared.

I was down with a similar feeling after Ankita's wedding last November but the realisation of being the last single one standing with married friends really got into me after coming home and lying on my bed all alone.

Ever since my school days, I have been literally called by girls and even some of my friends aka classmates that I will be the best husband and father. I still remember one of my teacher later told me at a reunion that the faculty thought of me as the student who will be the first to get married in his batch.

It is a huge compliment and will always be for me and I am not scared to live up to it. But now as I see it, I feel my reality was way far beyond what all these people saw in me - my reality of dreams and a lot of times, nightmares.

I was all happy at Karan's wedding but ending up in despair. Why, you ask me? I guess, correction, I really want to be in that wedding chair and looking at the guests. Earlier, I felt I want a wedding, but it is the marriage I dream for. I also want to be one half of the cute couple and I am not a bad person to not deserve it. I am scared of when.

I really feel that my moment will do come. I am scared that the same kid whom everyone loves, gets alone and aloof from his society where he thrives his energy from.

I am scared I will break hearts among people I know because I am gay. I can not break hearts, for that kid loves winning hearts and he will never out grow rightly if he breaks hearts. Kids are supposed to get "Awws" and "Hugs" even in their mischief. That little kid want to, correction - need to grow old with those "Awws" and "Hugs". That little kids needs to grow old normally. And being normally does not mean ordinary. I am an extraordinary normal kid.

I will keep attending the weddings, as at the end of the day they are not meant for guests like me, but for the couple. I will feel blessed, maybe selfishly, to be a reason even for a moment of smile on the couple's and their family and friend's faces. It makes me feel happy; no matter how scared I feel. The moment is bigger that my wedding woes.

Just that I don't want to lose any of these friends. That really scares me. Especially when the universe somehow end on throwing me with a new song about the same feeling.

The song below (by "The Head and the Heart") is one I came across an emotional episode of "How I Met Your Mother" just last afternoon, while being in my most vulnerable and emotional "wedding woes" place.

A year from now we'll all be gone
All our friends will move away
And they're goin' to better places
But our friends will be gone away

Nothin' is as it has been
And I miss your face like hell
And I guess it's just as well
But I miss your face like hell

Been talkin' 'bout the way things change
And my family lives in a different state
If you don't know what to make of this
Then we will not relate
So if you don't know what to make of this
Then we will not relate

Rivers and roads
Rivers and roads
Rivers 'til I reach you

I love being all out out for my friends on their special day and always wish to make it more special for them in whatever way possible. 

Words fall short to define the song for the Ted Mosbey in me. For Ted loves all things wedding-y - He is the best man for wedding speeches, is best friend to many and is all probability, the nicest guy around. But it took him years of "Rivers and Roads" to reach his own wedding.

I know I am still traveling the "Rivers and Roads". I am just scared to fall apart in the journey; fall lonely in the journey. I can not and will not live with wedding woes; for weddings are meant to only go with vows, be it for that little kid or the 27 year old grown up.

The Wedding Vows!

Monday, April 4, 2016

My Hate Story

जहाँ में ऐसा कौन है कि जिसको ग़म मिला नहीं

Bhavdeep Singh Chadha.. logging on to Blogger on a snap decision to stop thinking and write..

What to Write?

Damn it, Just write anything that is bothering my mind, body and soul the most and need immediate puke screaming out my system.

More that the speed of light and the pace of nervous impulses, there is only bloody thing:

"The Hatred in Me that Scares and Anger Me"

It's weird how the things I hate, which are forming the immediate mind note for this blog, are filling the shoes of everything I am scared of and this angers me to like no extent.

Hate.. Fear.. Anger..

Why do I Hate anything? 
What makes me Hate anyone? 
Why am I scared of anything or of anyone?
Why is there so much uncontrollable anger inside me?
Who am I really angry with and why has it reached this stage of writing?
What is it that makes my mind, soul, heart and body the imperfectly perfect host for anger to live and multiply?

Too many questions and if questions were a metal, I would have been a proud owner of the most powerful sword, even more stronger than ones honed by elves in the First Age. *SMH*

Questions when unanswered reminds me distinctly of two life lessons:

1) When not getting answers to your questions, it is time to ask the right question. Ask the right question if you're going to find the right answers.

2) Every question has a precursor which is chained to its seed. The chain may be small or big, but the seed will always be there. Just be sure you question the background correctly.


The first one above is probably an interpreted dialogue from a Hollywood movie, the name of which I am failing to recall. The second one, and the best one, is from my Guest Professor of English Language and Public Speaking in Bhartiya Vidya Bhawan, Mrs Gourang Lal. She said the same to me in one of nervous breakdown during Public Speaking moment inside the basic classroom.

Just to make her proud, and to live a peaceful and happy life, obviously, I want to vomit out all my hatred, all my anger and all my fears.

Strangely, writing about my fears truth-by-truth is making me courageous. And I see now, even to live a life of purpose is to die with contentment. I no more wish to bring changes in the world to be able to feel the contentment of living a life a purpose. I will smile when I am happy, let go of my tears when they show up in my eyes and heart. Bring smile to others when I am strong, find strength when I see someone weak. Scream "May Day" when it is so and let the mature do the rest around me.

Because nature surely keeps its balance.

दिन - रात
धूप - छांव

It is after a thunderstorm that a rainbow appears amidst clear sky brighten by strong sun.

But this blog.. this blog about my Hatred and I am angry with the fear of holding it back.

I hate myself a lot, despite knowing knowing that I do love myself. But there is so much in me, on me, over me, that makes me want to hate myself.

I am lanky; not slim, not even even healthy - accept it.

My arms are extremely thin, my chest and waist look like that of a malnutritioned, my thighs and legs too week for my age and have no 'circumference' at all. Combine it with my body and facial hair, I hate myself even more.

I have dark circles under the eyes I used to be very proud of once upon a time. My lips no more make me feel they are the best  asset of my physical appearance. My nose is weird with sensitivity problems. My ears are strange and I need serious ENT treatment.

Did I mentioned about my mouth and teeth. I hate them to the core. I feel my teeth are protruding and the bridge I wear has already ruined my life since second grade of junior school. And my gums also bleed. Aaargggghhh..

Oh, how can I forget about my hands and fingers. They are bony, full of hair and skeletons, with veins always showing on them.

Kill Me, God.. Kill Me..

I would say I kind of like my Neck but my beard hair spoil it completely to make an appearance of their own. So WTHeck!! Grrr..

My mustache is crappy and very yeti-like and I don't know ow to either maintain it or to trim it. It feels like it is now growing from my nose too. As for my beard, same shit again... It gets too bulky and heavy and spoils the entire look when tied because of the already shitty cheek bones on my face.

And I still wear a thread to tie by beard. Why the heck did I start with this? Because of my family, True. So that makes me averse to taking more things from my family. And I hate myself more on this as it keeps me at bay from the people I should be most close to, naturally. 

My Skin.. its yucky oily.. so it either goes super dry when I wash my face a lot or become Oil factory, giving competition to Gauri Khan.

My Jaw bone.. Hate it a lot.. It feels only bone, with no mass. What the fuck is that, you fucker - Mr Bhavdeep Singh Chadha!!

I don't like my naval. It has absolutely no shape. Weird gooey type. And my diaphragm actually shows because of my week body.

And to top it all,  or may I say, to be topped by a anyone - I have no ass. Forget about the bubble butt I dream about. And with that flat bums, its shitty hairy!!

I knees...they are so strange as if they are coming out, and its back side is super weak.

I have everything and every fucking thing for appearance to scare the crap put of anyone.

Yes, physical appearance is just a part of fucking "True Love" but it is the first thing that anyone and everyone will notice. But I am the Present life of Bhavdeep Singh Chadha and I suck at looks and even the clothes I wear - For God's sake, I have a badly constructed physical body to be wearing anything and everything which are made for those six pack equipped mannequins.

Shit I have small shoulder but long hands. Even holding my jeans below my naval looks like I am wearing way up the abdomen, if I am right with the words of human anatomy.

And I am not even tall. I want to be tall. Correction - I need to be much Taller.

And I either don't shag or I shag a lot. Making my body averse to any development for the good.

I hate my physical self and so I hate myself. This is what I see in the mirror and I am yet to grow out of the teenage mindset to grow out of the physicality of 'how I look' reality.

What to do?

I think I know.
I dont want to be a teenager any more.

It makes me moody. I want to be my 28 years old self, as of 2nd February 2017.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

My Chewing Gum Life

Picture this:

My mother handed me a Sweet Mint Flavoured Center Fresh and after a flash of tongue-and-tummy thought,  I told her I have stopped eating gum. I completed my lunch, washed my hands and resumed my couch potato position and my eyes suddenly fall on that very Sweet Mint Flavoured Center Fresh which remained on the bed where my mom handed it to me earlier. After another flash of tongue-and-tummy thought, I tear open the wrapper and put it in my mouth, promising myself I will not chew it, but only taste it, till it completely vanishes. After about two to three attempts to roll the hard gum in my mouth without biting the exterior for the soft gel inside it and the chew part, my reflexes give up again and I bite the gum,  gulp the awesome new Sweet Mint flavor,  chew the gum for some time and finally spit it out after the juice is over. 

I thought I will hate myself, like I usually do, for not sticking to my commitment (or was it one really?) but I did not. Instead I am here typing my thoughts as to was the juice worth the squeeze.

You know what Bhavdeep, the juice was worth the squeeze because I really enjoyed the new Mint Flavoured Center Fresh and I spit the gum it out when I felt like spitting. Why do I have to think much into it? Why should I care into things?

Isn't life such so? I mean, a Chewing Gum of events meant to be enjoyed to the core by chewing them as they are meant to be. Bite when its meant to be Bitten, Chew when meant for Chewing, Swallow the taste as it flows and Spit the residue.

Why hold myself with stupid beliefs and mannat and dhaaga. Aadats aka Habits are not a one time thingy. They are cultivated over a practice.

I hold myself from sex and I sleep or hug or almost fuck over a single physical companion and then I call it love.
I hold myself from masturbation and I spill over a hard lonely feeling and that too with a bad porn effect.
I hold myself from life and I frustrate myself in that very damn hold that I feel tired and exhausted.

Life is like a Chewing Gum. Bite it, chew it, gulp the flavor and spit it out. There is no point in stretching it beyond what it is meant to be. There will always be a better flavor and if you are honest with the bite-chew-gulp-spit theory, you will do find one that you will call as forever favorite. Favorite becomes habit but its up to you to make sure that the flavor matters more that the habit and you never stretch the gum beyond the flavor.

Else it will again be the same -  Hold back, Question the tear of the wrapper and blame the time for presenting you with that packed gum.

Chewing Gum never comes with an expiration date but over the time, it does lose some of its good taste yet remaining safe to chew. So is Life. There is no such expiration date but over the time, it does lose its fresh youth yet remaining safe to live. 

Tear, Bite, Gulp and Spit.
Live, Love, Life and Laugh.

Because in my heart I know, that the juice (of life) is worth the squeeze. That's what Moral Fiber's all about.


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