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Duniya mein tumhari jagah bana nahi paye
Is duniya mein jagah rakh kar kya karenge
Parchhaiyon ke peechhe bhag rahe the ab tak
Ab sirf andhera baki hai, bhag kar ke kya karenge

I.Miss.Having.Someone.To.Talk.To.

Anyone. Someone I want to talk to.

Duty

Shikha didn't know what she was angry about. Just that she was seething. She deserved better, yet she knew it was as much her fault as anybody else's. Her life had become an endless wait - the yawning emptiness of waiting between each moment and the next was eating her up. And yet, on the outside, she was her perectly normal cheerful self going about her duties. Dutifully she'd keep calling up the children daily without complaining about the calls they never made and the bunchful from her they'd never take. Dutifully she'd stress about every modulation of their voise that hinted something was amiss, something hadn't gone well. Dutifully she'd go about her job nobody appreciated her for, at least it paid her bills and helped her kill some time. Dutifully she'd thank God everyday for the wonderful world he'd created without asking why did he not create anyone to help her loneliness. She was angry at herself, and the pointlessness of her existence.

But she didn't know that. She just felt like she would explode. Then, like everyday, she hid her weeping ace in the pillow and went off to sleep.

Promise

I couldn't wipe every tear
I couldn't always lend an ear
I couldn't kill every fear
I did not bring you cheer
every time, like I promised

I know I did not
I tried, I could not
I'm sorry I forgot
I tried and I fought
and I will, like I promised

On why google is evil

We have always known it's a bad thing one big fat company's servers hold so many bits and pieces of our life stashed with them, and a few clicks by someone somewhere could affect us unjustifiably, still until it happens to you, it feels like cynicism and some more. Now, after suffering a virtual homicide of some sorts in blogosphere, I'm forced to wonder - is it time for an un-google-ification. Here's what happened - all the comments I've ever made across blogs, including on my own, have vanished. Without as much as a trace (or an email). Sucks!

That's more than 5 years worth of comments. Did I have no right on them at all? Or the people on whose blogs they were made (like him). I've posted a complaint and stuff, but don't see any help forthcoming. What next - tomorrow this blog can just vanish in thin air? Or, horror of horrors, my gmail account? Makes me furious.

Do I need to prove to google I'm not a spamming bot but a real person - has the world come to this already?

Google is evil.

Love sex aur dhokha darling!

Bada difficult kaam karte hain
Subah aur shaam karte hain
Love tumse hi hai darling par
Bas kehne se hum darte hain

Tum saamne jab bhi aate ho
Dil dhak dhak dhak dhak karta hai
Love tumse hi hai darling par
tumhe dekh dekh roz badta hai

Har chehre pe fisalta hai
dil humse nahi sambhalta hai
Love tumse hi hai darling par
Sex bhi to karna padta hai

Karna nahi chahte lekin
very sexy is your neighbour
Love tumse hi hai darling par
Ye Love shove is lot of labour

Ye doori sahi nahi jati
Ab tumse contract karna hai
Love sex aur dhokha darling
sab kuch tumse karna hai

How much is too much?

There's only so much you can stretch a string before it breaks. After a point you have got to say enough is enough, or the string will break and the recoil will hurt you bad, real bad. But it's hard, isn't it, to know when.
I mean look at cricket, IPL was a good exciting thing when it started, but it got bigger than first cut calculations and suddenly someone thinks it is an infinite money-making machine. Ad plug-ins in between balls and in every sentence of the commentary, way too much noise and crackers, way too many matches coming up, too much blatant, vulgar money - IPL3 is already an overkill I've little interest left in, and it's bound to get worse. It feels like a bubble, much like sub-prime, waiting to burst, IMHO.

It's just greed, isn't it? This desire to milk a good thing for more and more until it dies in the hope of well..more. Blinding disillusioning greed.
Greed that makes corporate bosses push their people to work harder and longer in less and less time for less and less money, screwing their lives to increase their margins until it starts hitting the breaking point and the brave among the good people begin to leave their jobs. (Sounds familiar?)

It is also greed of some kind that makes us hang on to relationships that aren't working - eternal hope or just desire to get more. I don't know really. It does feel like greed if you don't do anything about a problem just because you know that the other person is somehow living with it, even if with enough difficulty. The string will snap at some point, won't it. Wouldn't/ shouldn't at some point, you hear - enough is enough.
What's the right thing to do - I'm confused (and incoherent, sorry!)

Not so cheap thrills

This afternoon I was on a flight to Mumbai. Mid-air the aircraft started experiencing some air turbulence. As standard procedures, everyone was asked to return to their seats etc. and a lot of people started looking out of the window. The turbulence was both long and strong - a few people woke up, many spilt some coffee and everyone waited for the aircraft to pass.

I couldn't help but wonder, like every single time something like this happens, what would it feel like if the plane crashed. I wondered where the life jacket was that the long security drill at takeoff talks about. I wondered if people will scamper for life jackets and emergency exits (again, the long at takeoff speech came to my mind) I wondered, almost wished, that there be no time for that, and the aircraft just goes into a freefall and crashes.

I thought about what will follow. The imagined news headlines amused me. Maybe in 2-3 days when I don't show up they'd discover in office I was on that plane. Will they worry about the laptop and other BCG paraphernalia now lost? Isn't my company insurance double if one dies in an accident? What if I don't die and show up one week later? etc etc etc
It's a familiar train of thoughts. Similar to what may happen if I got the opportunity to be in a hijack, a bomb blast, a derailed train etc.

These things - fun, interesting - they just don't seem to pick me and happen to all those innocent people who don't want them to happen.

Life ain't fair.

Fact, simplified

I oversimplify a bit, but not much, when I say that you are responsible for the sinusoids of my life.

You bring me joy by being, and pain is when you aren't.

It is all your fault!

Sainkdon pal kaat dete hain kuch pal ke intezaar mein
Jab pal fir bhi nahi aate, muskura ke laut jate hain

Ishq mein sab bewajah hota hai...