On the threshold...

My dear blogger buddies and million+ readers,

Exactly this day, last year, I published my first post and what a marvelous journey it has been thus far. The joy of seeing my words being published on the internet was ‘something’! And then finding so many excited fellow bloggers, first-time greetings turning into friendship. However, all things have to change as change is the only constant! The sole purpose behind this blog creation has been fulfilled now and I have no more words to share with this world as the urge to capture newer horizons propels me elsewhere!

This blog will now become a private dialogue space now that she has turned one! Trust me, none of my words will make sense to anyone henceforth!

I thank you all for being a part of this wonderful experience...a phase of a journey that will always remain special! To all you youngistan, soar high as you chase your dreams. To all of us wondering whether chasing our dream was a good thing and should it be continued further..well, single-minded dedication and the patience to pursue it will bring success coz that’s how HE meant it to be. To all of us who have given up, arise and begin now! Trust Life – it is the best Teacher!

OK! Enough of my wisecracks. Better leave this to the expert. Signing off now with an inspiring piece from Paulo Coelho…

“It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting......Before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams master the lessons we have learned as we have moved toward that dream. That's the point at which most people give up.... (At this point) Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity.”

May the force be with you

Vins the Pooh


P.S: This does not in any way mean that I will not visit you. You will still enjoy the privilege of my 'esteemed' readership!! have to tolerate my nuisance

Sochne wali baat hain!

Sorrow it was that made you strong,

Pain it was that pulled you along

what then do you seek in Happiness?

in her, no Teacher is born!

Perception personified!

the abstract hits a score -

where sharp edges fear to tred

pink is no longer innocence

when the eyes begin to dread!

Will the real fat cat pls stand up?

Disclaimer: Dont read this post if you do not have any kind of personality disorder.

Will the real fat cat pls stand up?
Please stand up. Please stand up.

As u crawl thru the cables, the routers and towers
As u creep in thru the network of flyers
U burn much of ur fat-ass, n the gang’s too!
U fat old cat, clearly an imposter, aint u?
So care to stand up for who u r
Who u were n ought to be…
Will the real fat cat pls stand up?

Coz I gather, u have a life as much as I do
Go live it fatty – coz It may end soon
What? Stop staring n shut the fuck up
U r the real fat cat- go on, admit it
So will the real fat cat pls stand up?
Please stand up. Please stand up.

U’ve messed up big time, u’ve lost face, he he
U’ve only begun the realisation, oldfox, aint he?
That sly n shady, rickety old fox
N sometimes the pooh in mask
Who aint got a shot!
So care to raise ur hand at least
Tomorrow u may stand up, a lil shaky beast

Tear off those masks, burn the muti-dimensionalities
Come on, admit it, u wanna break free
Will the real fat cat pls stand up?
Please stand up. Please stand up.


P.S: Dedicated to me and my million n counting readers, who wanna break free from self-illusions and identities!

A factual fiction!

After she had put down the receiver…

‘Now who was that?’

‘P… who else!’

She gets ready in 5 minutes flat and rushes to the door.

‘Will be back by elevenish…don’t keep dinner for me’.

‘The same old jeans…don’t you have something that flows?’

‘O Maa, I don’t have the time to wear all that….besides he is out at the gate’.

‘Your ears look bare’.

'Maa…I can’t choose...besides what’s the need? I could do without something dazzling or dangling for now.’

‘Instead of arguing with me, go and wear something that doesn’t dazzle or dangle’.

She rushes in…

‘And while you are at it, wear a bracelet or something…’

She shouts back, ‘but I’m wearing my watch!’

‘But you have two hands, no?’

‘I give up Maa…what’s the point?’

‘What point? I like P besides who else can tolerate you?’

‘Huh! S is waiting along with P and I can hear them honking….BYE’.

In circles...

Beyond the unknown, yonder our arguments
I feel your smile – the smile that knoweth all

As the eternal mystery commenced
You chose me just as I chose you
Yet I felt this choice to be in vain
Yet I was playing the denial game
All awhile, quiet annoyed with you

And as the mystery unfolded with time
Along came the storm, the surges gushed in
In all its wilderness, they snatched you within
I was left aghast, my feeble mind dislodged
For the first time I saw, that which was

You strived to not let go of me
You fumbled around helplessly
Like a true warrior, you rose above
In numbed realization, in divine bow
It was the moment of Truth for me
That which triggered a whole new quest

And in that quest I happened to see
A time, a memory, a forgotten me
In which I felt you and I felt the vast
And as it all is in a constant state of flux
A flux that drove me by kind insight
Through a journey – a bewitching flight

No matter what ebbs and tides lay in it
No matter the debates about virtue and vice
As time stills the eternal menace
I find myself moulding unknowingly
And before I saw the carvers’ knife
I had realized - I had become you
The you, I never knew about
The you with the smile that knoweth all…



P.S: Today is a special day. It is the third anniversary of my dad’s passover to the infinite skies. This poem is my message to him and I know he will understand and smile! Yes, there are mutual jokes in it :)
Sorry friends, I’ve disabled comments for this one… n thank you all for respecting the need for silence between us.

Vinphy’s Phone laws:

1. The rate of battery drain increases exponentially to the rate of urgency of an expected call.

2. Just when you’re expecting the ‘Will you be mine?’ part, the battery takes a cue and plays dead.

3. ‘Roaming’ is just that – keep roaming till you find a signal.

4. ‘Happy to help you’ is an oxymoron.

5. ‘Caller tunes’ can also be called as ‘Cooler tunes’.

6. The month you had taken a ‘maun vrath’ will always have the highest bill.

7. Phone companies have a sense of humour. How else can one explain the ‘service tax’?

8. Value added services add more value to the company’s turnover.

9. The ‘mute’ button goes deaf when you speak the Truth involuntarily.

10. A dog can follow you everywhere except for closed, confined spaces eg. Toilets, lifts

11. The price of a cellphone will begin falling only after you have bought it.

12. 'Customer Care' is short for 'Customer.. Care a Damn for you'.

Point taken!

The two of them were returning from the meeting point. The ‘interested party’ and the relatives who had arranged the meet were also on their way home. Now, that was three disjoint search parties in search of three absolutely different things in life.

The two of them were silent till they reached home. They had loads of talking going on in their respective heads.

The evening back at home was rather uneventful except for the occasional ‘He was well dressed’ and ‘His mom looks kind’ to ‘looks like a happy family’

The next day in the morning...

'Your cousin may call up anytime. We need to be prepared with our reply’

She was tensed to the core and not a nerve had any flow. How could she reject somebody whom her cousin had hunted down with so much love…besides, her mom will start breathing only after her wedding

‘Maa..he was well dressed and my would be maa-in-law looked so kind’.

'What? You are saying yes to that jerk. I absolutely see no match here. What’s going on in your head?’

‘Maa..you are the one fretting over my marriage always...besides, how can we say a ‘no’ to them!’

‘Huh! Forget your cousin, forget my fretting...you think I’ll marry you off to some jerk? For God’s sake…I am your mother!’

Tata Nano ghar !

The common man's dreams of a home have been answered by the Tata's. Way to go....You guys rock but seriously, 218 sq ft carpet area sounds a tad too disappointing, doesn't it ?

P.S: I was just drawing my version of a 'modern' common man and then this idea clicked! I'm feeling good about this cartoon as I didn't copy or refer anything :) Hope you guys like it too! and please forgive the sad quality of the print and the ball point pen markings over pencil....

Vinphy’s AnyTimeMoney? Laws:

1. An ATM is a thinking machine. It has an ego so Be Kind to it.

2. On cash-strapped days, one can see the neighborhood ATM grinning from side to side.

3. The bugs in the ATM s/w get activated at the same rate of urgency with which you need cash.

4.The amount of currency inside the ATM is inversely proportional to the amount needed.

5. The newly installed standby machines are just that – stand by.

6. The first time ATM users who are learning all the functions will almost always be before you.

7. An ATM has a soul and a karma and the money in it is an illusion.

8. God doesn’t need cash. All ATM’s are in hell.

9. The queue at the ATM is directly proportional to the urgency of cash needed.

10.‘God-damn-you!’ command to an ATM means that you want to gift your card to it.


P.S: These are my 'real life' experiences/ lessons. Please abide by them seriously.

Voices of fantasy

She had heard them before. They were all there with each a story to tell; stories of wishing wells, stories of magic carpets, stories of talking mirrors, stories of flying elephants, stories of how the sea had turned yellow, stories of a world under the sea and stories about girls who heard voices from the unknown. She believed and so they came. She loved to listen to them. And when she sat up cuddled in her bed or her rocking chair all alone in her room, they would come. An invitation was just not the criteria but they weren’t quite pleased when logic surpassed fantasy. They and she were often amused at the voices of reason outside her room. Skeptical scoundrels!

And then they would begin, taking turns and sometimes pausing a little bit for her. She would jump and clap at the enchanting new world discoveries, she would howl or weep silent tears at losses or separation but best of all, sometimes she would laugh involuntarily. At times like these, they understood. They could feel the joke on her bones; the sick jokes of rational behavior, the stale jokes of believing a mirage and the eternal joke of her hallucinations. But at times like these, the ‘others’ failed miserably. The others had misapprehensions and weird notions of reality. It is this ‘others’ that sought to destroy her from herself. And they classified the ‘others’ as foes, as the stereotypical villains in their stories. But they couldn’t save her for the only protection they could offer was to come to heal her loneliness, to tell her stories from other worlds, to paint her dreams, but most of all believe in themselves so that she could believe in herself.

And when in midst of a story, she had any questions, they would respond at once without her having to ask. They could read her thoughts just as it generated with an uncanny precision known only to her. They knew her inside out; they could feel the rhythm in her veins, the impulses that soared through her back and forth, the voices of reason losing over the voices of fantasy and the myriads of colorful vibrations that enveloped her form. They would sing or dance or just rejoice at the triumphant voices of fantasy.

But then her doctor would visit and spoil it all. He had to come every fortnight or else the voices of reason would be forever lost. He injected her with a syringe and some liquid matter coursed through her veins, right to her brain like a shot to them. They at once ducked these liquid bullets of rational illusions. They, the voices of fantasy had to survive, for in their destruction lay her end and that was something they were not prepared for. They wouldn’t let the ‘others’ win. They fought with the chemical bonds in the liquid which would invariably break off. So this war would last for a week and then suitably diminish around the next week. That’s the time her doctor would visit again as per schedule. The ‘others’ could never win nor could they get rid of her ‘schizophrenic voices’.

Food for thought

After she had put down the receiver…

‘That was P, right?’

‘Yes’

‘Why don’t you let him speak? You were doing all the talking’.

‘That’s how P is!’

‘Oh yeah! So many years and you tell me he prefers to listen and that too to you.’

‘Maa, he had a few questions’.

‘Huh! And you were giving answers to all the questions in this world?’

‘Hehe..he did speak a bit but how could you hear him…next time I’ll on the speaker’.

‘What do you guys keep chatting all the time?’

‘Life, politics, business ideas….gossip, philosophy and yes, mothers too’.

‘Ah that! …and what about marriage?’

‘Yeah, we talk that too. He tells me about his follies and I tell him mine. We sort of console each other. Hehe’.

‘Look girl, intellectualizing and philosophizing is good but you need to be practical too’.

‘But dad had so many sessions devoted to all this at home. And don’t forget, you made loads of chicken for all his friends.’

‘Yeah…leave all that to the men; they have the license to waste time…….besides how long do you think the philosophizing would continue on an empty stomach?

Surprise!

‘Raj, I can’t depend on you. I can’t even relate to you anymore.’

‘It depends, Smita….everything is relative.’

Smita, quite disgusted, switches on the TV. Her nuclear physicist and forgetful husband could never quite get the love fusion right.

BREAKING NEWS….‘India’s pride: a team of nuclear physicists led by Dr. Rajendra Bhonsle has successfully implemented nuclear energy generation for mass consumption. He states, ‘This project will empower our villages and is the most peaceful way to show off our nuclear prowess. Peace to all’.

Smita, brushing off her tears, smiles to herself. There couldn’t have been a better birthday present.


P.S: This started as 55 fiction but somehow grew to become a Drabble, just didnt have the heart to reduce it any further. all thanks to Kartz for introducing me to this concept :)

Vinphy's Date Laws:

1. Prior to the special date, a mountain of a pimple will erupt overnight.

2. A certain well-wisher will fix blind dates for you on your bad-hair days only.

3. The only dress that fit correctly will be in the laundry just before a ‘sudden date’.

4. Your mother will wash that one best-fit, never-washed jean on the day of your ‘first impression date’.

5. If your date is a secret one, you will most definitely meet your curious neighboring aunty at the neighboring table.

6. Your date will almost always arrive after you have escorted a blind old man/woman to the other side of the road and returned to the meeting spot.

7. The more expensive your date dress, the more the chances of something spilling on it.

8. Dandruff comes along with the black dress.

9. Your date will almost always be shorter than you, the one time you wear that extra high, special stilettos.

10. High hopes on your old battered car is of no use; it will run smoothly on that special long drive.


P.S: Please share if you have more and I'm sure you guys have loads to share :)

Mum !!!

‘And where exactly do you think you are going?’

‘My evening walk?’

‘But, where are you heading? How long will you keep drifting? I’m getting older by the second’.

‘O maa! Not now…I don’t know whats written, do I?.... I’ll be back in an hour’.

‘Huh! But you chose to drift, didn’t you? You quit to find new paths!.....You knew what was written then? You just knew you were in a stalemate, didn’t you?’

‘NO, I didn’t know!…nor did I have any illusions…I just followed my heart’.

‘Huh! You don’t have the luxury, girl…Dreams are better at bedtime. Don’t chase an illusion. You will only fall flat with a void too tough to handle alone’.

‘Maa, I don’t know about my dreams or what I am in for. And the recession isn't helping either! The thing I’m sure about is, that, I came back for you….Bye..will be back in an hour…keep the dough ready'.

Hope against hope?

He always wanted to make it big. He always wanted to leave a legacy. And this bright morning, as he stood outside the hot Mumbai studio, he knew his time had come. The auditions were going on in full swing. Mr. Doyle, the new age Robinhood, was making a realistic movie about his folks. They all knew he should be the lead actor. Who else can dance in shit without raising a stink? The movie was rumored to cater to the world’s elite, the world's most civilised people. And then the ‘other’ side would know. O how the West was won!

At last his dreams would come true. So, with a pure intention and a noble cause he marched right ahead into the auditioning rooms. He cleared the dialogue rendition and a dance round with some number like…ding ding dinga with much ease. The final round was a personal interview with Mr. Doyle.

‘So tell me, Shera, why do you think you should play the lead role?’

‘Sir, you are making a movie about scum and squalor rising towards change, a movie of hope against hope and Sir, I am the ‘real’ thing. I actually live in those slums. My folks and I have tough lives but tougher dreams, Sir. We want to bring in a change. Who better than me, Sir? You and I shall win the West. Together, we can and we will. The twain shall meet, Sir.'

Mr. Doyle smiled. Shera knew that he had him there. Wagging his tail with sheer excitement, he headed towards his home with his chest held high in the air. Every dog has his day!

The results were out a few days later. Some outsider by the name of Damal would play the slumdog! And rumor has it that Shera has been chained ever since the first day of the shoot, due to a sudden 'biting' spree.

Love!

Honey, isn’t my nose big?
No sweetheart, your face is small.

…..after 10 years
Honey, am I looking fat?
No sweetheart, these pants are the wrong size.

….after 20 years
Honey, am I drooping?
No sweetheart, even gravity loves you so.

....after 30 years in holy matrimony
Honey, do you believe that ‘Love is Blind’?

The Irony!

“woh jannat ki khoj mein nikla hain…
uske liye Mecca bhi door nahi,
apni begum ki izzath se beparvaah
nikla hain tere khoj mein eh Allah !…"

Thus concluded the fakir amidst much applause.

‘Wah wah wah!”, praised the old Sheikh in delight and quickly got up, shoving his new virgin bride all of 12.


P.S: Please forgive the hindi-urdu mix-up if any. Also, here's the translation for Karthik, Kanagu n Lance:
"He has left in search of heaven...
Even Mecca is not far for him,
He doesn’t care to respect his wife
He has left in search of u, O Allah!.."

Hope

“What is this life if not about agony, despair and sorrow?” cried the young medical intern at the government hospital.

Blood, tears and mutilated bodies dwarfed his vision as the uninvited tremors had uprooted thousands. His young blood, infuriated.

“No, it isn’t…”, stated the nurse, ‘…the lady in bed 8 has just delivered a baby!”

Beauty and the life rainbow...

And just when I had begun enjoying the concept of life akin to chasing a rainbow and actually riding on it, along comes my old friend and blows it up! Remember my parlor wala fiasco and that girl who after much pleading and lauding finally relented to do the mowing ? I had sworn never to go there even at the risk of frightening the kids and adults alike in the family and elsewhere. But time and eyebrows wait for no man err..woman. Their collective desires conspired with the universe to literally push me there.

It so happened that I had reached this other parlor just a moment before they shut-shop for the day, even though I had ventured out early but its just that my day starts in the evening and boy! what a day..There were no parlors in my line of sight and the ones which 'seemingly' looked like parlors and catered to both men and women didnt seem worth it. Also, as I'm the chosen one and carry the thunder cloud right above me, it would so happen that there would be a raid the very moment I set foot to ask if this is 'indeed' a place where they 'cut and trim' hair or thread eyebrows. I could already sense the triumphant joys on the cops faces for catching me young at this Godforsaken place and teaching me a lesson. The probability is that this may happen like once in a million times when the cops were not 'catered to', but I'm sure it was waiting to happen as soon as I would set foot, rather it would be favorable only when I set foot. Period.

But I am not as stupid as I seem to look. So, I did not set foot in the 'all-in-one' parlor ! That left me again at sea, where do I go for a decent threading job? The usual parlor seemed quite decent and hey..what the heck..she isn't the only girl there. If she is hell bent on making me feel like a disgrace to feminine beauty, I would replace her with the other efficient (read humane) girls. So, I go in there but alas they too were getting ready to shut-shop. And if Truth be told, who the hell am I kidding...I'm no celebrity. Let that be my self-promotion tactic for blogsville. The owner told me to come back tomorrow within the stipulated time. Ohh Well..yes madam! Needless to say that 'the girl' was super delighted to see the disappointment writ large across my face which was now resembling the debutant Karishma Kapoor with her squirrel-tailed eyebrows! I did not see the looks on the other girls though.

I walk out with my face down and the life rainbow somehow had transformed into a grayscale image. I was too ashamed to walk back home and scare the kids yet again. So I take this long walk on the highway, reminiscing on the parlor wali girl's inhuman gesture and how all the parlors conspired to boycott me. It's not as if I were walking around with a walrus moustache or a goatee, but I almost felt like I was!

I was nearly half way up the highway when a girl caught up with me and asked me whether I had come to the parlor some time back. She was very beautiful, the kinds a guy would take home to his parents. I faintly recognised her since she wasn't in her uniform. I said yes. She asked me what exactly I had come for. I replied. She eyed my eyebrows sympathetically and told me to visit the parlor tomorrow without any further delay. As an urgent emergency procedure, she even offered to come home with me and operate upon me! I declined her 'over humane' gesture but inside I was very happy that a beautiful parlor-wali girl cared for me. I laughed at the walrus moustache and the goatee I had been wearing on my mind sometime back. Hmmm...and the life rainbow burst with colors once again!


P.S: I so love these beauty parlor-wali girls:)

I love only you...

"sweetheart, do you really think I'm a womanizer?"

Silence.

"I love you sweets".

A fragrant feminine breeze...then a pair of sexy stilettoes tread outside the office corridor.

"sweets, I...", juggling between her tears and the nearing stilettoes.

....   "love only.....". The stilettoes struggle at the e-access.

He dashes to the door.

"Hi!...new joinee ?"


P.S: This is my first attempt at 55 fiction. Hope you guys like it!

The evil in me (a retourne)

too conscious to evolve am i

under his sly, scrutinous eyes

they survive on  eternal seduction

for him no bell tolls, for he no longer dies

under his sly, scrutinous eyes

i lay defeated in unholy highs

as Satan's spider twines and swings

an evil gossamer binds my wings

they survive on eternal seduction

his proverbial snake at the alter of suffocation

his action impromptu, my wrath undefined

i lay in chaos, my ideals crucified

for him no bell tolls, for he no longer dies

for all that is evil in my dark insides

is a manifestation of him, a hungry parasite

he is in me and i am his host entwined!

***

P.S: This was my first attempt at a retourne, inspired by Kartz!

Farewell to a Star...

*

with hope, you lit up our lives

with compassion, you touched our souls

every single day, in every passing moment

you taught us love and its inherent sacrifice

in the short time that you were here

*

we wonder why He called you there

it’s just too early, just not fair

may the Lord bless your soul

may you never cease to shine

on this crossover divine

*

P.S: Dedicated to Tina who is no more amongst us. Wish I could know you more, girl!

A day at the Pilikula zoo!

Deep in the heart of Mangalore in the southern state of Karnataka lies the Pilikula zoo - Pili for tiger and kula for lake, all because some tigers used to jam together at this cave after a fun-filled session at the nearby lake. Vin was brave enough to go inside this cave, have a tête-à-tête and above all click a snap of the resting tigers who were quite amazed at being photographed in their natural habitat where no mortal human dares to enter. Both mother and cub have obliged to pose for the shutterbugs. Aren't they cute? OK! They aren't real...but had I been there hundreds of years back, I would have shot them live, I swear :)

Last month I had received a mail from Tips4Me.com where a kind and rather knowledgable lady called 'Rachel Fernandes' sent me a mail describing the five largest birds in the world. I faintly remember reading about the Emu and never expected in my wildest dreams to ever be so close to one. Here's a picture I clicked from as close as comfortably possible and the information that Rachel shared with me...

It is one of the largest bird's native to Australia. These soft-feathered, brown, flightless birds reach up to 2 meters (6.6 ft) in height. They can travel great distances at a fast, economical trot and if necessary, can sprint at 50 km/h (31 mph) for some distance at a time.

If the Emu were small, it would not strike a chord, rather it has a stupid looking face and manner, but its sheer size and powerful legs made me wonder whether it has got anything to do with the law of natural selection by Darwin and I guess by all means it has evolved directly from the dinosaur. This one seems to be saying just that to me and adding 'I could smash you to pulp, woman!' But we both knew 'Thank heavens for this wired fence!'

P.S: I so wish I had a powerful camera with zoom et al. Now, I dont have any proof that I played hide-n-seek with Mr. & Mrs. Lion and I hugged this gigantic bear and I went roller skating with the sweet panthers and I was almost tickled to death by cute alligators.

Do visit this zoo if you happen to be in Mangalore since none of the wild animals are in cages or practically malnutritioned as is the usual state in most Indian zoos. And yes, dont forget to take a powerful longrange camera with you!

Pooh, older n wierder!

As birthday wishes came flying by, while the pooh was happily lazing away in her 100-acre forest, life did a somersault or two, but the pooh is not quite sure and wondering whether she’s moving in circles. Whether the so-called rat race is really a means to the end or to the beginning of transformation?

Why all of nature is just being and being amazingly happy at that? Why the oceans never meet the skies yet love each other and live in perfect harmony? Why the salty sea breezes that were so much fun in childhood, now become a threat to my skin and hair – my outward mask? Why the eagles fly so high when their prey is anyways miles down? Why some flowers are in love with the sun and simply refuse to open their petals on sundown? Why is every creature so happy in Mother Earth’s lap and what went wrong with us? Why the heck am I asking these questions when answers are again puny in the vast open secrets of Nature?

P.S: It is my Happy Birthday today and I am back from a wonderful vacation, hopefully to a more fulfilling existence. Innocence lost its charm and blogging has somehow taken its place to pen down weird streams of thoughts but there is hope. These weird streams of thoughts will not be so frequent anymore since the pooh has found something weirder elsewhere!

The Common Man’s Rap song!

yippie! It's election time again. As all our beloved parties have made up their campaign numbers, we, the common men and women too need a song, don't we? So, here goes the Common Man's rap song...

[Chorus]

yeah! coz
nothin’s gonna take it
away from me
nothin’s gonna change it
for your end is me
chuck it or fake it..yeah
yeah…chuck it or fake it
no bugger is gonna make it…

[Verse 1]

i’m off the track n i’m beginnin to lose it
i have high BP as all you do is TP
O shucks! damn your rottin n-e-t-a-giri
you come knockin on our doors
you beg for votes, spend a fortune on hopes
for your creepy little ****holes
O shucks! damn your rottin c-h-a-m-c-h-a-giri

[Chorus repeat]

[Verse 2]

i’m sick n nauseous n ever ready to throw up
O this carbon dioxide n other oxides make me suck up,
this road on the vehicles is driving me mad
as little vermins are scattered around quite bad
that lady I see, IS ain’t gonna m-a-k-e it
she walks the tight rope, Huh! BIG hope
woman n child, you use to cover your a**
O shucks! damn your rottin d-e-v-e-lopment plans

[Chorus repeat]

[Verse 3]

i’m walkin past trains, i’m walkin past planes
blasts don’t scare me, as i duck a bullet or two
my coffers are ever dry as you pocket all my taxes
O shucks! damn your healthy life n lapses
wanna blacken your face, point a finger at you
damn! my morals ain’t give me that space
O shucks! damn me… as I’m not a menace
this every common man’s r-e-a-l-i-t-y

[Chorus repeat]

P.S. : the rap style i imagined is Eminem n maybe he could team up with Jazzy B n i must thank Peter for the rap inspiration n hot news is that the pooh is gonna be away to her 100-acre woods n would return on the fourth day of the fourth month...i can see Karthik already jumping up n down! Ciao, folks!

Kasab and Karma!

In 1947, India faced an uncertain yet jubilant future sparked by the British retreat. The Congress and the Muslim league had major difference of opinion regarding the new independent nation. Jinnah of the Muslim league was of the ideology that a new nation needs to be established purely based on the Quran - the holy book of Islam and that true followers of Islam will not find justice in an independent India or Hindustan or Land of the Hindus. Gandhi, the apostle of non-violence, the father of the nation gave his nod. The British got to divide her although they no longer would rule!

Like every birth involves the umbilical separation, an emotionally evolving process, the birth of the new nation was too. It became to be called the ‘Partition’ and that new piece of land called Pakistan or the ‘Land of the Pure’.

In this Land of the Pure, some twenty years ago a boy named ‘Mohammad Ajmal Amir Kasab’ was born. They taught him Urdu and the Quran. They taught him the religious ways of what they believed to be pure and also the need to cleanse the impure as per the holy Quran. He believed that the Quran indeed sanctions killing innocents to restore the purity. He learnt dutifully as any staunch Muslim would do and should do.


He came to Mumbai along with nine other such ‘misled’ young boys on a cleansing mission. They did manage to cleanse the corruption that was quite rampant in Mumbai power circles but Allah knows if they cleansed any of the ‘impure’! Allah knows who’s mission it was that got fulfilled! They triggered quite a hysteric reaction among the common people who didn’t know where to go for help. Unfortunately, the other nine died in their cause, leaving Kasab to come to terms with his ‘learnings’ and the ‘fruits of his labor’. He does this in Arthur road jail in central Mumbai which is in the Land of the Hindus by the way.


Whiling away his time in prison, as Hindustan and Pakistan fight it out with a 11,000 page charge sheet against him, Karma, the cycle of cause and effect brings him face to face with Truth and Non-violence. He now reads the Urdu translation of the Mahatma’s autobiography ‘The Story of My Experiments with Truth’. Nearly, sixty years have passed with this influential book circling around the globe, but was there any possibility that this boy would read this book in the very land his ancestors had chosen to abandon?

And when the golden sun was setting...

When the golden sun was setting…

amongst the countless rivers flowing

from the purity of thy bosom

there emerged a beautiful rose

the one that beholds, bewitches

but can prick without a spell

To be swept away, thorn and all

down deep valleys, trembling past

the currents crashing, nature’s fury

the rocks striking, nature’s jury?

alas! neither current nor rock

could break her spirit, as she glides by

Downstream she floats, now placid

across little hammocks, little pebbles

a bunch of kids are struck in awe

amidst the enchanting spell

she casts upon her beholders

Lazily she calms down, her strife was of yore

amidst the old hamlet’s tranquil pond

the water is turbid and quiet now

underneath it hid creatures, big and small

does each have a story

of its downstream journey?

Then arose a moon, which lit up the sky

captured by the pond as a billion stars shone by

she glances at her mirror, her resting place

and now it’s her turn to be enthralled

by nature’s tricks and plays!

For there lay on the surface,

an image so heavenly

they may call it a lotus,

a flower with a thousand petals

to be serenaded amongst the murk

to be worshipped with the gods

so, doth the name alter thy strife?

She closes off her petals and sinks for the night

to be awake, to rise and to shine

to welcome at the break of dawn

the golden sun that arises yet again.

to be called a lotus, o! so pure, so divine!

When Ms. Junglee barged into the beauty parlor...

It was quite a dull day yesterday, though the spring has just sprung fresh warmth everywhere. Sadly, she couldn’t feel a thing. It was all hazy with some kind of fog wherever her eyes moved. On a day like this, a flavored tea would be quite potent to shoo away the fog. Alas! The haze was still there…

Life was calling but where was she? She, the favorite, she the damned soul, she the inspiration behind every murphy’s law, she the Frankensteinne! She glances at the mirror, just a second lesser than one can begin to say ‘F-R-A’, before the reflection gets misty. And what does she notice…a jungle complete with flora and fauna right above her eyes!

She zooms across to the nearest beauty parlor in sight and with God’s grace, they let her in.

Now what happened is the real ‘horror’ part of this post. She became ‘The lady in question’. They glared at her in utter disappointment with a look which seemed to say ‘ how-the-f**k-do-you-think-we-can-help-you’. If she could bury her head, she would do that right away!

Whoever said that eyebrows need to be threaded and not mowed down could well…just be proved wrong! After a hell lot of begging, the parlor wali girl relented and proceeded with her gardening tools err beauty tools. She gave her a decent brushing down too and I mean that literally.

Spring is all blooming now in bright colors and the haze has vanished. She now looks at the mirror till as long as one can say ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the brightest of them all?’

P.S: And need I even state the obvious – I so hate these beauty parlor- wali girls:)

The 25 wala bug!

OK! Here goes my 25, thanks to Sawan who will never fail to tag me.

1. I love blue (mind you, I’m referring to the color here, as in RGB= 0,0,255)

2. I love wolves and I love sheep too, it’s only when the wolves come in sheep skin, I turn into a werewolf!

3. Think twice when you say ‘Get Lost!’ to me, coz I usually get lost as a rule twice a month! I once got lost near my home while I was returning home after midnight! Nothing to worry about really…its called ‘directional disillusionment’.

4. I cry when I’m happy too, so you may see me crying most of the time!

5. I am a die-hard dreamer. Staring at nothingness is my favorite past time!

6. I am a gypsy at heart. I want to tent all over our beautiful planet.

7. I love the hills; I feel I am as old as the hills. I would like to have my dream home somewhere at the peak with only ‘blue’ skies to watch outside my window.

8. I love tea, especially the ginger or cardamom flavored. I dream of sipping such tea while dreaming as I look out of the window of my dream home!

9. I dream about baby fingers and toes – this could be a maternal instinct, I don’t know.

10. I love food. I could eat anything that is yum including baby-fingers!

11. I have grown up happily suffering from IBS – Imaginary Boyfriend Syndrome. I never imagine any body from the ‘real’ world. It has to be a ‘special’ soul and most definitely on the moon playing away his lute.

12. I am a terror of a daughter to my mom. I blame her for everything right from giving birth to me to loving me till suffocation to the misuse of nuclear power! Poor mom! May no mom ever have a daughter like me :)

13. I don’t believe in superstitions even though my mom drills so many into my peanut brains. I do everything opposite to annoy her and disprove the myth about them.

14. I cannot whistle.

15. I had 33 teeth.

16. In my entire childhood, I asked only one toy from dad – a bat and ball to play cricket with! A blue balloon was the usual one I got without asking.

17. I want to do something for physically challenged people.

18. I don’t know if I will freeze on a stage, coz my ‘teaching’ job at NIIT killed that ‘freeze nerve’ long back. And now that I am gonna be a celebrity, I better get used to crowds!

19. I am the best under pressure. So I hardly do much when there is no rhyme or reason.

20. Still I don’t know why I bashed up a little boy when I was in kindergarten???

21. I once tasted blood since this boy who was my partner in std III got badly bruised and told me to suck out all the blood flowing out otherwise he would die right away of sepsis!

22. Amongst all the men who deserted me, ‘Dad’ is still the one, my only Hero…I simply cannot be angry with him. Dad, I love you so and badly miss you too. (in case you read this!)

23. I believe in HIM since no other explanation can be had for the miracles he has wrought upon me.

24. I have been blessed with friends whose Friend-ship help me sail across smoothly in the sea of life!

25. ’25’ swapped across to become ‘52’ during kindergarten…I may have been mildly dyslexic.

26. I am tough competition to Ravan. He he ha ha ha ha... he he ha ha ha ha…

27. I nearly wish to be invisible sometimes – I get scared when people stare!

28. I live in extremes; either over-excited or over-sad :)

29. Oops! I have crossed the tag limit in my over-excitement!!

30. To round off at 30, last but not the least, Sawan is also my first blogger buddy, thanks Sawan saar, its been a beautiful journey thus far.

P.S: Phew!!!! (Vin shakes her head and wonders)– how do I filter out such tag requests/ demands ? 25 oh come on…my fans need more of me!
Please consider yourself tagged when you have read until here.

Atif - older and better!

Har dua mein shamil tera pyaar hai

Bin tere lamha bhi dushwar hai

Dhadhkon ko tujhse hi darkar hai

Tujhse hai rahtein

Tujhse hai chahtein

Tu jo mile ek din mujhe

Mein kahin ho gayi lapata...

Kar diya Deewana dard-e-Kash ne

Chain cheena isqh ke ehsaas ne

Bekhayali di hai tere pyaas ne

Chaya suroor hai

Kuch to zaroor hai

Yeh dooriyan

Jeene na de

Hal mera tujhe na pata...

Atif, I love you, Atif, I love you...

so...Atif, I love you

Oh I love you!

P.S: Atif, just in case you read this, here's wishing you a million and still counting... happy returns of the day!

Keep rocking...you simply never cease to amaze me every new number you sing...you rule, man..you simply do!

Pics courtesy: http://atif-aadeez.blogspot.com/

Happy Holi !

P.S: Introducing... Baby Rover! He's wishing you all a very happy Holi. May your day be as colorful as Life itself. Happiness Always !

The Pooh has been interviewed!

If ever there is something called 'Last day Last show', then it is this!

The Pakistani Spectator (TPS) has interviewed me, an avid, rocking and happening blogger just in time before I go for a 'personal' break. Do read it at leisure in the 'celebrity' interviews section as it is quite an exhaustive one. OK, not in 'celebrities' but the general blogger interview section here. The pooh feels this to be her fifteen minutes of fame, so whom does one blame?

Well, one of the editors, Ghazala Khan sent me an email requesting an interview. I obliged since the pooh will be away for some time to her hundred-acre woods to steal loads of honey and such interview requests come only but once in a while to poor pooh. I, so thoroughly enjoyed answering her questions and hope you guys do not sleep half way through! And if you do, then you know whom to blame!

But, you can put the blame on me...you can put the blame on me...I'm off to steal my honey!

and remember.....

"Wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing".

P.S: Do check out The Pakistani Spectator (TPS). I found it to be quite a candid and interesting read for all Indians.

The story of my experiments with Truth!

They say, ‘One has to burn to be able to rise from the ashes; the one who can rise thus is unconquerable, the invincible’. This is the only Greek mythology that still remains engraved deep in my heart by virtue of the mythical firebird ‘Phoenix’. I liked the concept so much that ‘Phoenix’ became my email password most of my life! The Phoenix has a lifespan of nearly 500 to 1000 years, towards the end it  builds a nest around itself and burns along with it, and only from the ashes is a young Phoenix born or rather a new Phoenix arises! This too will live a complete life and then evolve in much the same way. Maybe, the Greeks have branded our ‘Garuda’ as ‘Phoenix’, but I love the phrase – Phoenix, Return from the Ashes!

So often we come across our life floating past our very own eyes and we have no control over it. Then, one wonders - ‘Why me?’, but trust me when I say, the question should really be – ‘Why not me?’ Our spirit only knows to fly, though the perceived environment has conditioned us to never fly, to never experience the Truth as we may not be particularly armed to fight the ‘real’ Truth. When Neo is given a choice between the red pill and the blue pill to his question of “What is the Matrix?, he is confronted with two things – one take the blue pill and merely exist in the ‘known, or take the red pill, know the mystery about Matrix and risk the present comforts to a harsh reality which may even be brutal. In our sub-conscious minds, we all are asking that question every moment, and in asking that question every moment, we evolve every moment. Every momentary choice defines our next moment and thus defines our life. So, the question - ‘Which pill?’ is really about ‘What life do I want to lead and how can I rise from the ashes - how can I be invincible?’

I am at this crossroad now and I shall emerge from the ashes hopefully! I need a sojourn with ‘myself’ – my inner being. Each one of you have been my Teachers and with the wise lessons learnt, I need to embark on this journey – the journey of self-discovery! I will return but ‘when’ is the unknown ‘X’ here.

As an ancient Chinese proverb says , “When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one, and a lily with the other” , so I am off to buy my lily!

God Bless You all…..Be happy always!

Tagged - A Photo Story!

He was frail now, as frail as the grass underneath the bench. He knew his fingers had started shaking again. He joined them tight across his folded knees and began to wonder, "How long?" He was tired and this evening that he sat on the park bench symbolised the evening of his life too. He longed for the night - the night of his life.

Every little wish of a child cannot be fulfilled for want of a slightly higher need and bread was indeed necessary than an admission to kindergarten. So, Anna being the eldest took to the family profession of tailoring. He did the measuring and the sizing with precision but one hardly ever saw a 'measuring tape or scale' in his shop. Years passed by, Anna grew up, the only tailor in town to sew the best for the best though he was un-lettered. His siblings were posted in government agencies by virtue of their literacy. So, Anna brought the family a notch above. Bread is good but not better than school.

But, little Anna had a wish - he wanted to go to school, he wanted to read, write and sing just like the children at the nearby school. The wish died as he had grown up. Learning the letters seemed unnecessary and he could fend for himself and his siblings. He improved with every suit and sometimes was even amazed with the precision perfect cutting! Still, he just couldn't feel the calm - the kind of calm that comes to a man who has found his calling in life. He felt like a light-house keeper, the old man who does his duty, watching endless horizons of black, blue or green and sometimes with the sun playing along, he would be treated to reds, golden yellows and vermillion. Days merged into nights and the horizon would disappear, but the light house never failed to guide the ships that roamed the nights.

Who takes care of the light-house keeper? Well, alcohol did for Anna. He took to drinking like a baby turtle to the sea. He drowned in its many flavors but was awake somehow at the sewing machine. Days merged into nights and slowly into years...Anna had made a name, Anna was the very symbol of sacrifice and hardwork. But, one day he coughed and coughed and spewed out blood - his liver gave way.

His nieces take care of him now; they teach him the alphabets but he cannot seem to have any control on his shaky fingers. He can read and sing but he still longs to write...

Moral: Nature has its own way and takes its own sweet time in fulfiling our desires. Be patient and trust in the forces. There is always an "and it happened" moment some time.

P.S: This is my feeble attempt at meaningful fiction. I am thankful to Kanagu for tagging me with this wonderful idea. I tag all my blogger buddies and request you to weave a story around any photo in your pics folder. Sorry Kanagu, I relaxed the rules a bit. By the way, this was the last photo in my favorite photos folder and it was the fifth!