Friends. Lovers. Love. Emotion. People. Thoughts. Circumstances. Futures. Pasts. Feelings. Hopes. Sorrows. Anxieties. Desperations.

Why doesn't life have a Del button?

“ Every moment of your life is lived for the future—you go to high school so you can go to college so you can get a good job so you can get a nice house so you can afford to send your kids to college so they can get a good job so they can get a nice house so they can afford to send their kids to college.”

- John Green (Paper Towns)

"Oh how I want to be free baby

Oh how I want to be free

Oh how I want to break free."

I miss my old car. Soon, I'll miss this one.

"I do, however, feel sorry for the machine itself. It’s sitting in its shed now, wondering what it’s done wrong. Why did it not fly yesterday and why is there no sense that it will fly today? Why is nobody tinkering with its engines and vacuuming its carpets?
And what was that last flight all about? Why were so many people taking photographs and why, after 27 years, did every single one of Heathrow’s 30,000 employees turn out to watch it do what it was designed to do?
I like to believe that a machine does have a heart and a soul. I like to think of them as ordinary people think of dogs. They cannot read or write or understand our spoken words. But they understand what we’d like them to do in other ways. Go left. Go right. Go faster. Sit. Lie.
So go ahead. Think of Concorde as a dog that you’ve had in the family for 27 years. Think of the way it has never once let you down. And how thrilled it is when you feed it and pet it and take it out for a walk.
And now try to imagine how that dog would feel if you locked it up one night. And never went back."
Clarkson on Concorde

I feel empty.

There's that hoary chestnut about good guys finishing last. Well, there's a new addition.

This is where the scum of the earth finish.
Bad people with a little good in 'em.
Regular folks, with a dash of evil.
Regular folks, with a dash of good.
Good folks, just a tad bad.
Good guys.



Me.

I am acutely aware that my biological clock is ticking, having observed that I attend weddings of my friends and peers on an alarmingly increased basis. Not to mention welcoming the odd child into this world.

But just look at what the Internet has chosen for me. I mean, WTF?

They say that if you're old enough, you will always remember what you were doing on the 22nd of November, 1963, when you heard.

I will always remember waking up to 2 messages on the morning of June 26th. And rubbing my eyes, hoping they weren't true.


"Will me, thrill me
You can never kill me..."

It's a ridiculous mix of humour and irony. If you were to observe it from a suitable vantage point, your mind would mend at the absolute mockery that is made of all plans and feelings. Predictability? You've got to be kidding. It's just so damn hilarious, it would, as a spectacle of entertainment, wipe out anything invented by man.

Ain't life a bitch?


"...but trust me on the sunscreen."

Trusting. Friendly. Cheerful.

That's what I used to be.

Over the last few years, I've learnt two things. The first is that people aren't what they seem to be. No one is. Not your best friend, not your lover, not your brother. Everyone has their own agenda, and most people will nary bat an eyelid before doing you harm to further it.

The second is more, er, useful. I've learnt that I have a capacity for rage that is disturbing. I can hide and nurse a grudge for months, maybe years, and wait. I suppose this is a good thing.


Romans 12:19

She's gone. He took her away. And I stood and watched her leave.

I used to wonder why everyone refers to automobiles as feminine. Just this one time, I understand.

"...and I miss here now you're gone."

All great tragedies are made of many smaller tragedies. Stories of despair and desperation. And these stories have their opposites. The sterling silver linings to their black clouds. For it is often the worst of times that brings out the best in men.

"The general manager lost his whole family in one of the fires in the building,"
(Ratan) Tata said, referring to Karambir Kang, whose wife and two sons - aged 14
and 5 - were killed. "I went up to him today and told him how sorry I was, and
he said, 'Sir, we are going to beat this. We are going to build this Taj back
into what it was'."

It made me cry.

My life, I have realised, is the pursuit of happiness, riches, and love, probably in that order, though being interrelated, there's no order really. Anything else will take care of itself.

If it doesn't, there's always a jack rod.


"Walking in the race of life
Looking for my own pace
Not always wanting to but I have to
Sometimes feeling like I've bitten off much more than I could chew
But the wind goes though my hair
Lifts me up with ease not a crease
Hair full of grease no weave embracing me
It's you I see
I am you and you are me."

I want to kill someone.

To the hair puller, the white girl with dirty blonde hair, who took great pleasure in bathing in a bucket, and then claiming she would marry a girl.

To the only sibling I talk to, or respect, or listen to, or heed. The only sibling who I defend, and the only one who will ever get to drive my Lamborghini.

Happy birthday!

"Happy birthday to you..."

Today I went back in time.

To an old haunt.

To an old friend.

To another time.

To a restaurant.

To a conversation in a car, outside that same restaurant.

To a moment.

And then, somewhere in the middle of all this, I heard a dead Parsi guy say:


"Oh how I want to be free, baby.
Oh, how I want to be free."

Sometimes I wish I were her.

Sometimes I wish I were her.

Sometimes I wish I were here.

Sometimes I wish I were here.

Sometimes I wish I were free.

Sometimes I wish I were me.


"All we have to do now
Is take these lies and make them true somehow."
All we have to see
Is that I don't belong to you, and you don't belong to me."

Fast cars. Loud music. Alcohol.

Cliches are so much fun.


"You gotta keep pushin' for the fortune and fame.
You know it's, it's all a gamble when it's just a game."

Stairway To Heaven.
Mama I'm Coming Home.
Livin' On A Prayer.
Keep The Faith.
Layla.
Free Fallin'.
Fast Car.
Cocaine.

Pictures capture moments. Songs, songs are different. They capture memories.


"... just memories of a different life.
Some that made us laugh, some that made us cry..."

I have just discovered that my family were the undisputed lords and owners of over 11,000 acres of land. Each of those acres is conservatively valued at 5 lakhs today. To speed your number-crunching up, that's 550 crores, or $ 140 million. And they drank it all away.

It's enough to drive a person to drink.


"Don't forget this fact, you can't get it back; cocaine.
She don't lie, she don't lie, she don't lie; cocaine."

Of all the oxymorons in today's lexicon, and there are many, from thunderous silence to good shit, nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, is quite so disgusting and evil as

Veggie Delite®