Our Power Supply guys should be given Param Vir Chakras

I make this statement in lieu of the amazing audacity with which they seem to take on nature’s fury head on, every single year. As the sun gets blazing on high octane (actually it’s more like Hydrogen and Helium… hah, like you care!), come the unforgiving summer, something in the Power Supply guys instill them to stand up and say… “ That the best you can hit us with, you pipsqueak… Who Daddy Whoooo! Let’s show the summer our resilience with power cuts for hours everywhere! Baah!” Great Warriors like Attila and Alexander seem like Bugs and Daffy, in front of such extreme war schemas! Anyway… Sunday saw a power-cut, in accordance to the war plans, in my area for about an hour. As the TV I was watching went dark … some dark corners of my brain drenched in light….

The following is a true story. Certain parts of the text may be unsuitable for little children, babies and other semi-intelligent pets. No gory details have been edited, for viewer discretion. (Infact they have been touched up, to ruin your lunch/dinner). If ‘above 18’ Click here to continue.

The story was told to me by my cousin, one rainy afternoon (like the other 364) in Kerala. This was in turn a story that was told to him, by another of his cousin, on yet another rainy afternoon (like the other 363).

As narrated by cousin’ cousin’ (with special inputs from me, swaadanusar)

It so happened that a man walked into an electronics shop, with a wrapped up box in his hand. The contortions on his face, as he lifted it, indicated it to be something between the range of a truck and a soap box. After 13 minutes of doing knotty knotty stuff, a TV was revealed! Err… did I say TV… sorry it was a black box with smouldered plastic, and a peeling ‘deocon’ written on one side.

Transcript:

The shop owner: What happened?

TV dude: Need Repairs.

The shop owner: No shit! I thought marriage gift. So tell me… what happened?

< Readers…swear on FLOYD…once again… this is a true story>

TV dude: Lightening struck. Power went out. TV won’t start.

The shop owner: < looks at the TV that looks as if it has recently returned from a pleasure trip down the holey Vesuvius > WHAT THE F*CK HAPPENED.

TV dude: Sigh!

TV dude: Sigh!

TV dude: Sigh!

TV dude: < looks around, lowers voice and begins > So yesterday, the Rain Gods were heady on the sweet rain ( In Kerala, every other guy is a poet/sahityakaar and a drunk hence the build up!) As they partied in frenzy a stray thunderbolt found itself on course with my TV antenna… and added the extra zing to my Kittex Lungi Viewer’s Choice on Asianet. For a minute I thought I lost my eyesight, but slowly realized that the power had been shot. I quickly reached over to my Kajaa beedi, beside which my Ship matchbox rested. A match was struck and a candle soon found its ass on fire. ( Note: given the frequent outages, people in Kerala usually carry a candle along with their beedis ). And like an idiot I rested the lit candle atop the TV.

The shop owner: Gasp! You what???

TV dude: As soon as I let go, the candle rolled, and fell into the TV through the slots in the back!

The shop owner quickly looks to see the slots and retorted.

The shop owner: But, these are so thin…

TV dude: So was the candle… (Mallu logic… brillyend eh?)

TV dude: (continuing) the candle didn’t go out I guess … then the TV set started smouldering…. And then….

The shop keeper: And then…

TV dude: my wife quickly got some water and poured it over the flames to stop the fire!

The shop keeper: YOU BLASTED MORON! It’s a TV…not a haystack…

TV dude: thankfully the fire stopped, otherwise my whole house would have gone up poof!

The shop keeper: I don’t think, anyone could repair it after…

TV dude (continuing to continue): Then after a while the power was restored.

… We then switched the TV on to see whether it was working or not…

The shop keeper: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!

TV dude: Power went out again, short circuit maybe, and TV burned while I searched for candle…but we didn’t pour water again, but smothered it with a thick blanket instead!

(As the near comatose electronics dude hit the ground)
TV dude: could you repair the set please???

Kerala celebrated yet another bandh that day, and somewhere, as an electronics repair guy was being haunted by the ghost of a TV, that underwent excruciating trials of the order (Fire, Water and Electrocution) that it made Schindler’s List look like Baby’s Day Out!

So now that I am back from the jungles of Ulan Bator, after successfully marketing a Web2.0 product under extreme secrecy, not to mention not having any means of communicating with the human kind, let alone blogging,  I will continue to impart… knowledge and bullshit alike!

For starters,  here is something that I came up with in Jan. With little to document it, I hunted down a crocodile in Feb. Skinned and sukhofied the skin by early March. And then painstaking wrote down the poetry over March end, with bamboo shoots as a pen, and blood as ink!!! <BTW, My team mates reported a mysteriously high loss of RBCs, WBCs and platelets after their return, from the jungles of Ulan Bator>

Read on…

Sometimes it is easier to write,
Because you don’t know what to write about.
And then you just type in random sentences,
And rhyme it up, to check them out.

Then ideas begin to come and go,
Like waves on the shore;
You suddenly feel the rise in tide,
And decide you want to write some more.

You delve deeper into randomness,
And try to give it a structure;
But then you let go and relax,
Lest your cerebral nerves might rupture.

You try and seek continuity,
Post that… you try to see a theme.
You lose them both instantaneously,
And begin to hear your mind scream.

You don’t stop, you carry on,
Just to see where this would take you;
But then you already know that it ain’t gonna be no ‘R+J’,
Neither a ‘Macbeth’, nor ‘Taming the Shrew’.

You realize you might be losing the meter.
But you say …chill.. it’s all fine!
But most definitely your lines are somewhat all the more longer now,
Especially this stanza …third line.

This had to be the limit I guess,
Toss has gone all that was poetry;
And then I get into deeper mess,
As nothing seems to rhyme with poetry…but poetry!

I see that I’m already word-count 850+,
With all ‘em stacked and arranged a b a b,
I then do a self-congratulatory jiggedy jig jig,
and sing a hi-power 120 dB  doo bee doo bee!

Then I stop, think, listen to Floyd, get ‘inspired’,
And ‘feel’ that this poem and I are like two souls.
Hmmm…Now let’s see, how do I put it…
Perhaps…like two lost souls swimmin’ in a fish bowl!

A final look up into the Webster’s,
A proof read and a spell check,
30 mistakes corrected…plenty overlooked,
I decided that this’s how the poem ends… what the heck!

The profundity of my thoughts, brought tears to my eye,
I wondered why I never thought about writing professionally before!
I saw flashing bulbs, gleaming cars, money and dames,
Nobel and the Booker once again hitting the Indian shore.

“I had always wanted to write something…
Something that would change the world”
Said I to my publisher-to-be, with pride,
He smiled, then he read, then his head swirled.

I wonder why he fainted;
I don’t know why his secretary cried;
I wonder why she called in the ambulance and security,
Plain jealous…I surmised!

The world didn’t change,
But some unplanned things swiftly got on ahead,
Changes to my physiological details were one,
The second… the time I had before I was to be dead.

The Fender wails…
High on psychedelia;
Higher on love.
Wood and steel in unison
Sculpting air. Visions.

Smoke everywhere…
Sweet, full of breath;
Asphyxiating all care uncalled.
Ghosts of the living,
Albatrosses, hopes, flying.

Gods in Act, acting Gods.
Stirred and shaken,
Perfect blend, Amen!
Touched by the Metatron
Sonic N-Bombs, a zillion Ktons.

The river of sweat,
Sound bytes and more…
Ambrosia over a setting sun in Eden.
A bend in time. A Big head Bang.
A furious mix of sweet and tang.

Marshals, frenzied, roll.
The equalizer set to equalize…
Ranges beyond the console!
As geographies melt,
Iron and Gold smelt.

Roger and Dave serenade,
The Wright- Mason duet made.
The lunatic smiles overhead.
The dark moves into the light,
Quivering hearts & stage fright!

She glances & smiles.
Pompei… in my head.
Flatlined… wonder-eyed, in bed.
There she is… my flower child.
My elusive Floydian wild.

This is one ode, that has taken a long time in coming. There were many things that came in between this post and the urge to put my feel of the day into words, but then that’s another story. The day was 14th December… and Mumbai got stung… and it wasn’t winter at work! I was there… right up from when this German penta-force raged passion fuelled firestorms deep into the aural channels!

Scorpions…

My introduction to Scorpions had been to their Gold album <black cover with the infamous golden scorpion on show!>, in the first year of my Engineering course. Since then it has been a relationship that was much cherished. Klaus, Rudolph and co. helped me go through sheaves and sheaves of assignment papers, and that was one favor that I have to have to accredit them for. So, when I heard they gonna be there in Mumbai for their Humanity Hour I tour… it was a no-brainer, as to where I saw myself standing in the crowd! There’s been much talk about the concert with respect to a poor turnout, high energy performances, insane guitar and drum solos, freebies to the audiences…etc etc etc… For those of you, who missed this act… my deep rooted sympathies!

Ladies & Gentlemen, here on, I will let these pictures do the talking….

The Concert That Was: Scorpions Humanity Tour - Live In Mumbai!

“Welcome To Humanity… This Is Hour I”

Lady Starlight: The Silent Performance!

Scorpio Supernova….

Powwww-Wahhhhh Chords!

The Schenker & Jabs Meltdown!

Let him take you far away!

Flyin’ Weeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Hand Of God???

Remains From The Hurricane…

Massive-Woda                                        A Kottak Moment!

The Meine Man

When The Smoke Is Going Down…

NCPA was the venue for the my first EVER Opera Act… and boy was it an experience! It was a congregation of the classes (them) and 3 scruffy looking guys (Fuzz, myself and Amar …. in order of relative scruffiness! Amar wore a Google T-shirt… Shilpi’s mind went: What was he thinking???Beachboys???? On the other hand thankfully he had his jeans on… ’cause most of the time, he wears a hybrid between a boxer short and cycling pants!). Above all, Shilpi maintained that she looked classy… and as always our opinions never really mattered! Anyway apart from us… there were The Elites (3 piece suits, low cut blouses and knee high skirts), there were these jewelery shops/glitterati ensemble trotting in high heels few inches above the terra firma… add to this random foreigners professing love for world music … and finally there were The Italians… La Italianos… El Italianouvos. Of notable mention, were the lively and frail ‘one foot in grave’ ladies, who were there in scarves and chiffons, Pradas, Christian Diors, D&Gs and Glucon Ds. There were music lovers, there were the clueless and there were the talkers… who actually knew when to say an oooh and when to say an aaah, while conversing with another ooh-aah person! There were the animated ones and then there were the stone-cold ones. And we… well we tried hard to fit in somewhere, camouflaging ourselves behind our intellectual looks and talking as if we KNEW what the whole deal was about. Shilpi needed help… and we like very chivalrous gentlemen helped! (Note: this could very well be… my last post!)

Anyway, we amble in slowly… and take seats at the back, knowing that sitting in front could be potentially risky. A very wise decision in the end! Now then the thing is that all 4 of us were big music enthusiaists. Fuzz, the most experienced of the lot with years and years of experience with classical music, was our guide to the whole thing. Our quartet comprised of me with li’l Carnatic vocal training of roughly about 3 months, Fuzz playing the classical guitar, Amar who plays the drums, and Shilpi, who has great taste in music and who plays…. err… with Cats ( not to be confused with the musical)! So then, the show started off with instrumentals… a piano, a violin and a cello! Brilliantness! I fell in love with the pianist lady’s hands… as they glided along the black and whites, like a paper aeroplane in flight! All went well till the vocals started. The Soprano lady came and started singing her arias (small pieces of an opera). Now the thing about Opera singing is that you treat you vocal chords like a string/wind instrument, and typically end up having to touch all the notes, and that too in quick succession at times. So the singers were sort of the 4th instrument in the whole act. It is a very tough ask, and took years and years of experience to do what we witnessed. We sat… and listened intently… and to be frank… it sounded weird! But, not one to make decisions based on first impressions, I tried to find and invoke a liking for this.

Sometime into the performance a little earthquake started…. on probing for reasons… I saw that Fuzz (of all the people) had started giggling away looking at the Soprano singer, who was a thin, petite, beautiful lady in mid thirties! Apparently Fuzz couldn’t help imagining that the Soprano, resembled an ex-colleague of ours! Shilpi gave me a whack, asking me to stop shaking the seat! I pointed that it wasn’t me but Fuzz… and she was in for a shock. The shock was soon overcome by the appearance of the Baritone on stage. A proper Italian dude… long hair, black tux, black shoes… Shilpi melted away like ice in defrost mode! Now to say baritone guy was expressive would be an understatement! He gave all the expressions from ‘Ants-in-Pants’ to ‘Look Maah I am on TV’ to ‘ Marlon Brando in Godfather’, all in less that 10 seconds. And he was singing to us as if Italian and not Hindi, was our second language in school . Shilpi… had to be propped up time and again! Fuzz had completely lost it around this time… and he was re reading the handouts for the 10th time, biting his hand to control his out of control funny bone! Both Amar and I had contracted the Giggle-virus from Fuzz and were soon like fish out of water! I was particularly in a bad state, with sighs on one side and giggles on the other! Amar, after futile efforts to find a pen to write something than look at the singers, finally walked out after three-quarters of the show… I think I saw blood! An old lady turned and glared at me… I didn’t even breathe, afraid that my breath would knock her head off, and inturn cause a landslide of frail limbs. 25 didn’t seem like a good age to go to prison with multiple homicide… plus I was yet to find my elusive she-Floydian!

The highlights of the day… Figaro! Brilliantly sung… we all applauded enthusiastically! Another particular piece that I liked(and knew) was used as a soundtrack in one of them Wong-Kar Wai Films. Mother of all performances, came in the form of some exquisite free gelatos at the venue… We did hear music with every scoop! Having said that … I am game for the next Opera in town! And perhaps… just for the kick of it… we should sit in the front!

PS: Name of the Opera and it’s singers have been with-held to avoid a lawsuit!

The Premise: Nothing short of a South Indian version of the Amazing Race. A bus ride down-south to a holy place and back again, with just more than 48 hours on you!

The Cast: 5 families complete with chintar pintar bachha party, super hyper enthu moms, visibly frustrated Papalog, bro and moi!

The Bus: Green, with 18 seats, fitting in 19 people (spare driver came along…otherwise we Mallus are good at math!), and luggage enough for 38 (Correction: Mallus are good at math… except with luggage and certain exceptional exceptions)!

The Story:

Night I
- First Blow- DVD player conked off… EVERY FREAKING TIME!!! So that means… a whole lot of Hindi music from the CD player in the Bus, in the coming! I hope not Himesh.

-No switches for the fans overhead! Naked wires instead! The guy went, just pull it out, if you don’t want the fan. The wire overhead sparkled through the night… some comfortable sleep!

-Next realization: chintar pintar people means chintar pintar bladders! Susu Pit stops every now and then. Point to be noted: All chintar pintars have different Susu cycles!

-Packed food and water from home, since outside food and water might harm li’l ones and elders alike! Mom packed enough water to solve the Kaaveri (aka Cauvery) issue! Can’t believe they fell short!

- After the kiddos sleep, we halt at Food Court. WadaPavs and Chai at midnight in the wintry surrounds. Bliss.

-Kiddos wake up randomly, howl, yell, scream and then sleep again, with great innocence on their parents’ shoulder. My Dad goes to sleep on mine. Full circle. I smile into the night.

-Felt real sorry for my Music Sir, who had come along, as he sat on the first seat, and got woken up just as soon as he fell asleep everytime… thanx to a brilliant concept of toll nakas! I mean, come on…dead of the night, you wake up a sleeping man and ask for money… Daakus do that! And it was a made worse with bizzare tolls ranging from 152 bucks to 13!

- Mother of all bizzares though was the amazing Road Tax! 330 bucks per person crossing the border from Maharashtra to Karnataka! It was like crossing from India to Pakistan. Nearly 6 grands for moving from one state to the next, in one’s own country… blasphemous! I snuggled into a foetal position in the seat, and slept away disgruntled, soon after.

Morn II
-I wake up to find a blasted pain in my arm, apparently on which I had slept for a long long time. It hurt real bad. Music Sir snored away musically a few seats ahead. Last night had clearly taken its ‘toll’

- 16 sada dosas and 1 puri bhaji ( that was me )+ tea and coffee. We rake up a bill of nearly 400+ at a chotu restaurant. Imagine the number of tea and coffee consumed!

- The estimated 16 hours of one way duration were long gone… and there was no sign of no temple. But the so called bhajans continued to blast away in the form of Om Shanti Om. Dard-e-Disco indeed!

-Highlight of the day was my Dad getting total enthu and jumpin and singin in sync with the bus’ speakers … POM PUPPY JAM from Partner … I was flabbergasted… Didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had the lyrix wrong ( like he cared. Hah!)

-After 21 gruelling hours we reach… I promise Maa, that this was the last bus journey I am undertaking to this place. A sumptuous lunch of cold idlis and dahi rice at 4:30pm… nice!

-We go to our rooms, bro runs into take bath, Dad knocks on door asking for soap. I hand him a pouch and he goes, “ This is Pears not Cinthol Old!” Seriously after 21 hours of dirt grime and sweat, I didn’t stop to think once, that the blasted brand of the soap mattered! I glared at him. He got the point and he walked away ( Note: Dad’s version of the story is slightly different… According to his, he left me in some pain… like you all would believe that!)

-My bro is halfway through his bath in the icy cold water realizes that a certain knob somewhere gives hot water. For once, I was glad that I allowed him to go first and freeze his sorry Mallu ass. Muahahaha

Night II
-Bro and I do this No Swearing game, considering the holiness of the place. The person who swore more loses. I win fair and square, barely 15 minutes into it, after my bro loses it trying to overpower the mundu, which was sort of mandatory. $&^%&^%**(%&$% Rofl…fun that was!

-We visit the temple, have a very good darshan. Prayed for most of you guys reading this

-Music Sir and Dad then sang at the temple, a few bhajans and devotional songs. Many thronged to hear. Was a very beautiful moment. ( Dad lost his voice the next day… was even more beautiful! Had a great time torturing him!)

-We hear this sudden commotion, and see that entry to the temple had been halted. Unfortunately, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar of the Art Of Living Fame, chose that night to grace the place. There was a much unwanted attention to the man, with people momentarily forgetting the real purpose of their visit. Both Bro and I agreed, that we would have respected him, had he stood in the line like everyone else, given his age, rather than doing the VIP act! The charade continued throughout the evening… much to my and bro’s disgust!

Morn and Night III
-5:30 am bath! FIVE FREAKING THIRTY! Come on… Post bath: Comfortably Numb!

-We perform a few more pending ceremonies and gather some fundoo ladoos as prasad. We pay the pujari guy his Dakshina… He had grey eyes! Freaky!

-We board the bus back home at 9:30 am. I pester the driver to get us home by 12 am that nite, so that I could attend a dear friend’s very special 30th birthday party.

-I sleep

-I wakeup. I sleep again

-We stop at an off the hill Kamat’s restaurant. Totally like mirage in a desert. First good food in two days!

-Bro and I order north Indian thalis. Unfortunately, they give us 2 ice creams for desserts. Ice cream do…chintar pintar chaar…bahut naa insaafi hain. The vocal prowess that followed would have put the Madonnas and Celine Dions of the world to shame. Disaster Management happens… but new records are out by then!

-I sleep

-I wake up. I sleep again…. but not before catching a beautiful sunset!

-I rudely wake up knowing that it was Monday the next day! And that I was hours away from my party that night. The kids were singing Om Shanti Om againnnnn… they didn’t look cute anymore!

-I reached home at 6am finally after spending 42 odd hours inside a bus, missing a party, and having to go to work in 2 hours. Then Akhand Pratigya happened. I am NEVER doing this again.

Afterword:
At the end of the day … after acquiring in depth info on Childcare and urinal cycles in 2-8 year olds, Disaster Management with ice creams, Bollywood Song reviews after listening to same song for 28 times, Being able to identify between horrendous and super horrendous food / identifying that it is food in the first place, electrical wiring systems for air cooling without electrocuting oneself, Interior design for buses in 5 colors recognized by guys (blue, black, white grey and others!), Ergonomic sleeping postures for comfort for minimum 42 hour semi sleepy zomboid states and at the same enjoy the little pleasures in spending time with family, I was just…… Tired… Very Very Tired!

I have a friend, who is owner to one of the most overworked sets of lachrymal glands in the history of human kind! She cries … to the extent that she makes Rudaalis look like amateurs. She cries when she is sad… she cries when she is happy… and she cries for all the emotions in between! She cries for friends, foes, animals, trees, inanimates, Sun, Moon, Stars, Martians, Ulaxoton-23 ians, atoms, molecules, particles undefined… She cries at home, work, libraries, theatres, parks, concerts… She cries! She cries on meeting friends and while talking with then and most definitely when they wave goodbyes…She cries! No she is not a whiner… her emotions are uber-pure…she is one of the most innocent people I have met! She cries. She made me think…

I have a friend, who rocks the Richter every time he revels…which in turn is every time! When he laughs… the joke, bows itself out of the way, and the joke thinks to itself, “ Damn I did not know I was that funny!” when he laughs, everyone goes silent for a minute… and then they all laugh. He maximses even the simplest of joys to the greatest extent, and in turn spreads a cheer about him. He laughs. They laugh at his laugh and then he laughs at their laugh and they all laugh, knowing not, whats laughter all about! Always upbeat… always laughing. No holds barred…uninhibited… pristine… and perfect like a sinusoidal waveform… He laughs. He made me think…

What the hell is happiness anyway??? I know that somewhere between these extremes, is a guy who defines Happiness. I am on an attempt to stay happy. And for starters, all I know for sure is that there is a beautiful happiness in making others happy! Why? I can only speculate! I get reminded of that scene from Schindler’s List, where they discuss the ability of someone to forgive another. I find this on similar lines… except this being wholly fulfilling and far less egoistic.

They say smiles are infectious, and I believe that this applies to happiness as a whole. You see strangers passing by, you smile, and when they happen to return… a momentary spike in our ‘Happiness Quotient’. They made an Oscar winner out of In Pursuit Of Happyness! Guess how many lost out the title of the film in the emotional overflow of the characters. There was a moment in it called - ‘ This is me being Happy!’, where in the protagonist works his skin off for 6 months, warding off hordes if trials and tribulations, before finally getting onto what he most desired. To me somehow what he felt at that juncture, wasn’t simple Happiness, in my opinion, what he felt was Joy!

To me Happiness is a state of general well-being. Joy on the other hand is momentary. One is definitely happy, when one is joyous, but this may not hold true vice vera, and there in lies the difference!

The way I see it, it is very easy to cry… also easy is to laugh… but maintaining a smile is the toughest! ‘Cause a smile, is something that has no definitive reason, behind its appearance. And smiles are the real measure of Happiness. I continue to smile anyway… and I try to be happy!

The total number of happy people, in this world just increased by 1

Oh no… not counting me…but YOU! You have a beautiful smile by the way!!!

Of all things that you come across while serving time as a human, some of them are things that you don’t understand readily, and they stay on, accumulate, over time forming a repository of open-ended questions! These questions may find answers somewhere, but sometimes it helps not wanting answers, and just letting Life carry on monologues with you.

Silence is definitely a sound…that you hear, when no one’s around.

A perception of sonic detachment…
A purposeful aural disengagement…
A probable lack of concentration…
A loudness beyond audible limitations…
Silence is all that, and none of the above.

Silence is a myth…you always hear when you want to be heard.

I saw six movies this weekend! Yes…my social life kinda sux! I am kinda living my retirement every weekend or so been the trend for the past few months. And to say the least, I enjoy this stimulation of the eyes, ears and brain, more than getting a weak tan from outdoor rendezvous’, much to the chagrin of my parents! Anyway my weekend was drawing to an end and I was looking back at the 48 hours that whiffed past me, when I made an interesting observation…

I experienced a range of emotions, thanks to them 6×70mm works that I inflicted upon myself, but in general, I emerged happy from most. Happy, ’cause irrespective of the end of movie, every movie watched was an achievement in itself. I dunno who I compete with, or why I harbour such ego inflating notions in this head of mine, but let’s just say that … I feel happy at the fact that, it’s one movie less from my endless ‘to be watched’ list. Anyway, this weekend too, I did a tidy job of striking off 6 ‘to-be’s, and was just contemplating as to which was the most happiest moment that I enjoyed the most. For the record, I saw a Hindi film, one Jap Animation, one British and 3 Hollywood films. Strangely, the happiest moment that I had, was not from a movie, it was from a random conversation that I had with my brother!

Bro had come home late, I was awake and we got on to generally talking about things in our lives etc. and were reflecting on the same. Then out of the blue, he asked me something … “Hey do you remember, my first day at school ?” < RTC: New school. Bro was in 5th and me in 7th!> I said, ” No, not particularly! Why?” Bro said, ” Well you helped me that day!” Now it turned out that, apparently the kids in his class had gotten homeworks to be done over the vacation, and were supposed to be submitting it that day. Punishment was predicted for those, in the form of Miss Sylvia, who didn’t manage to do it. Bro remembers that our classes shared the same corridor, and he had run up to me, and told me of his this very scary predicament. He recollectes me having acted all ‘big brotherly’, consoling him and telling him to reason with his teacher that he was a new admission, and that he shouldn’t be punished! He found himslelf feeling super-mega-ultra relieved after that! And, I found it very very surprising that he cherished a memory like this, about his Big Bro coming to his rescue! Then he said, ” By the way, I remember the name of the guy in class who sacred me with that homework shit… it was Bow Mean! Hahaha!” I said, “You mean Bhowmin”. “Yeah re… but what a funny name though!”, he chuckled and cuddled into his bed to sleep, without knowing that he just made his elder bro feel very very very happy!

I interact a lot with the films I watch, and I get to meet a lot of people, through them. I know and connect with these people, but sadly, they don’t know me. And what my brother taught me , with that conversation, was that, interaction must be two ways … and that sort of brings greater joys! Well … guess my weekends won’t be the same anymore!

As the nocturnal dream entwines me;
Into its cold yet comforting embrace,
I see a vibrant darkness spin about.

A clarity of the black, visions unseen,
All of my to-be’s and has beens,
Under a canopy of moonlit stream.

I begin to hear the flute and the violins
And the gentle rhythms of the night.
As I settle in to catch…The Show Tonight!

The opening act: Silver Beam And Silver Sea Crest
It dances…it prances… puts beauty to the test
Your heart leaps…as you comfortably rest.

Next on show, The Cicadas & ‘em Crickets
For the record…from yonder the grassy walk and thickets
Simply awesome…simply wicked!

The Fireflies zip zap and zoom…like a Lilliputian aeroshow
The moon humbled…its pride stumbled,
You see life… as prejudices crumble.

The penultimate display, is an impromptu one.
A pride of beautiful girls passing by.
A split-second visual contact… a smile…by far the best act!!!

The finale ensues with The Wind howling down a heady song
Carrying something to set ablaze all of my senses
I live a thousand lives…as the dew condenses!

I stand… in sync with the thousand hairs on my body
I clap and whistle and cry…Encore …Encore…
They wave, bow and fade behind the curtains….with a promise for more!!!