wasted

“You’re wasted man…you’re wasted” I heard a voice from somewhere above. I felt my head being held by a hand that thrust it into the sand. I slowly rose as soon as it loosened its grip. I could taste sand, I could feel its odorless smell… the grains were creeping in my hair, in my eyes, my nostrils... slowly moving deep inside, entering my soul. I didn’t mind any of that except for the sand in my shoes, giving me that feeling, of my skin melting into sand. My attention traveled from my shoes to my hand. I could see a big hairy foot where my hand was. I could feel it being crushed and move deep into the sand under the pressure of the big ugly leg.
The sun was too hot for me to be able to look up to find out who it was. Anyways I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have cared if someone had hit me with a baseball bat. I didn’t care to look at the half naked women around me, the waves or the castles they had made. With my back to the sea, I was just staring into the sand. But the pain he caused was so unbearable that I had to look up to see who the bastard was. Who couldn’t see me drifting into the oblivion. What does he care about? How does it concern him, whether I’m getting wasted or trashed or whatever. I was always wasted anyways.

I look up and the sun blinds me. I see a silhouette of someone large walking away.
‘He’s walking away?’ I manage to get up, grab an empty beer bottle from many lying around the beach, hold it by its neck and follow the man. I’ve already had enough mishaps here (on what was supposed to be a happening trip) that I plan to pour all my hatred into that big bald head.
Was he actually a giant or was I drunk?
Or was the combined effect of heat on the back of my head and alcohol on my brain giving me a vision that was out of proportion.
I follow him to a place which now looks more like a desert than a beach beside the sea. And the sea seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly I realize that I 'm not following anyone. I'm in the middle of nowhere. Does the beach really empty out into a huge bed of sand… a desert, like a river into the sea? Spreading far…endless. And i feel small, insignificant. Where’s everyone else? Where’s the whole of humanity? There’s no-one, anywhere, it’s just me and the hot outstretching desert. Me, getting lost, in the desert wastes. Djinns do speak the truth.

A curious case of indigestion

The other day we had a bomb scare in our building. Perhaps Osama had targeted Padma Towers as the place to give a fitting reply to Uncle Sam. The whole building was emptied and we pushed off to watch a movie at Naraina PVR. The simple joys of these uncertain times we live in. Went to Mumbai on Saturday for a promo film shoot. Back yesterday and to work today. My flight back, was a relatively empty flight as only morons and goblins travel on Sunday nites it appears. So I’m sitting there re-reading Catch 22 when this guy sitting a seat away leans across and politely enquires how the book is. He's the same gent who a little while back had ordered a second portion of black pepper Chicken. Obviously a member of the highly secret airline food fan club. His question just so totally threw me. "It's good" I finally hit upon an ingeniously ambiguous reply.
"what's it about?" he persists.
I 'm gasping for air by now.
"well..it's about... you know satire... and war.. and... it's a satire on
war" I finished lamely.
But this mutt wasn't going to be put off that easy
"Which war have they based it on?"
They??!!
U see the kind of morons we're dealing with here. It most definitely appears to be a conspiracy. Let's reduce the mental level of earth by 73.76%, the Martians must be contemplating as they point their brain shrinkers in our direction and then we'll just walk in and take it over. How else can u explain the sudden downturn in human intelligence.

_

What's for dinner?

God I hope he’s late. I haven’t even started dinner yet. It’s going to take at least an hour. And he might be in the mood tonight. He might not even care for dinner. But I do. I’m sure he doesn’t even rem... What is that god awful smell? It has to be that stupid dog. Why did we ever keep him? Wretched creature. Comes and goes as he pleases. Acts like he owns the place. Stupid mutt. He’s going to ruin dinner. I can’t let anyone ruin dinner tonight. It’s been ages since we sat down as a family. Rahul already looks sleepy. He’s had a rough day. It’s never easy for him. Moving, shifting. All the time. But I hope we won’t anymore, I like this place. Except for that stench. Imbecile. Devil dog. If it wasn’t for Rahul... Sigh. He’s already asleep. I’m going to have to wake him up. I hope he’s not fast asleep. I hope he’s not too late. But I still haven’t started dinner yet. When is that stupid food going to arrive. It’s going to take me at least twenty minutes. God. Why doesn’t anything ever work out. All I wanted was just one night. One night for us to have a nice peaceful dinner. Before the beast in him attacks me. Before everything ceases to exi... And that stench. Might as well start looking for that filthy animal. I’m sure his body must’ve rotted purple by now. It’s going to take me an hour to find his pulp in this dump. Poor Rahul. He’s going to... Wait a second. I think I hear the garbage truck backing up. Finally! The food is here. I hope it’s something good. I hope its home made. I hope it’s not too dirty. It’s going to take me at least half an hour to find it. God I hope he’s late.

A sign, many statistics and traffic signals

Driving past the MRF temperature sign at the Oberoi. The temp reads 37.6 on the celsius scale at 8:48 am. Time and temperature. Two things you can live your life by. Fill it up with seconds, minutes, hours...and a box of tissues to wipe away the sweat with. 'Cos when you're done complaining about your job and your life...you can always complain about the weather. Curse it. Or spend your life paying the instalments on the loan for an AC car. Go from point A to point B in your own weather controlled capsule. So what if it consumes more gas...the world's fossil fuel supply gets lower by the minute. OPEC has agreed to increase supply by 3%. 3%!!?! How many barrels for you sir? Life and statistics. That's another reality distortion filter. The rate of inflation, the barrels of oil, the sensex, the temperature. They're swirling around you all the time. Just pick your number. How many hours do you spend eating, sleeping and driving? Have you worked out the percentages, yet? Excuse me, I spent
27.67% of my time behind the wheel, is there place for me in in heaven.
Sorry, son! the cut-off just went up to 32%. Try again, in about another
lifetime. Then at the roundabout near the hotel that changes its name and management every season from Surya to Sofitel to BestWestern to whatever is the name right now…. a man in a Zen...wife in the passenger seat... she gets out. We're all waiting for the light to turn green. She gets out of the car and goes and sits in the one in front...that's so-and-so from my office and after office we even sleep together in the storeroom to which I have the key...hubby dear is free to carry on to his office. Ignorance keeps us all happy in bed and on the road. But hold it that's not where the similarity starts...the man reaches into the back seat and comes up with a tasty toast...the tasty toaster... ordered from the teleshopping network... so convenient, no? Tomatoes dripping he scrunches into it... And we drive on..having just seen the future drive past?!!! just another statistic....

Katthe mein pan zyaada hai

Zalim duniya ki kokh mein pal raha King Pan Bhandaar aane jaane aur rah pade rehne walon ke liye ek ajab tofah hai. Mr. Chabale ko hi pooch ke dekh lijiye. Sahab subah office jaate waqt ek banarasi saada aur office lautte ek meetha bangali zaroor jeebh pe rakht lete hain.
Kadakti garmi ki dopahar mein jab King ke ek laoute waris …Modke Dede style se nakli Ray Ban naak par chadhake choona potne lagte toh dolly ka chota kutta Kangaroo asman tadke aur gala phadke zor se gane lagta.
Jab pados mein rehne wali kuwanri ladki Supaari ke ghar ladkon ka aana jaan badha, to Mrs. Chopra, Rinku didi aur Mr. Nilofer ne milke King Pan Bhandar ke theek samne waale Gol Park mein samiti jaari kar li. King Pan Bhandaar se chai ki supply barabar jari rahi.
Aaj King Pan Bhandar bandh ho raha hai. Mr chable ke saath saath unki Mrs aur daftar wale, sab hairaan - pareshaan hain. Kangaroo ne bhonkna to door, baat karma bhi bandh kar diya hai aur Supaari aur uski supaari dene wale log hath jod, morcha sambhale khade hue hain.

Yaad aa rahen hai aaj mujhe who balti mein tairte hue paan ke patte, who laal rumaal jispe chuna, kattha aur na jaane kya kya poncha jaata tha . Tadpati hai mujhe ye sukoon radio ki chuppi ki. Aur woh kattha jo haath ki hathaili pe aa girta tha pan ka naam lete hi!

nevermind bhaiya
Umeed pe aaj bhi duniya kayam hai, aur katthe mein aaj bhi zara sa pan hai!

All the besht, thanku