Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Riders on the storm...
Riders on the storm...
Now what on the globally warm earth could that mean? I liked Jim but man was he talking crap. How can one ride a storm? A storm is nature's way of destructing the poor and letting the rich live(Atleast in India, nature has a different set of rules, tenets and taboos). So, as a teetotaller I wondered. I loved classic rock but some songs really made no sense. Heard Kurt Cobain shout in his song?
"Waa denial....a denial....a denial...a denial..."
I don't know what he meant by that but his song was no denial to anybody. It was in fact, an anthem of a generation to the drug abused, boiling libido teenage. Err, did I get it wrong? Yeah, it still is an anthem of a song. Talk about paradoxes.
Ok by this time you might be thinking that I'm going nowhere with this post. But as Jim keeps singing in my head with his soothing voice.. "Riders on the storm"... I realise now, morning after, what it means. Believe me, I might not know anything else in this world but I know this. I so know this.
Ever heard of Gandipet? This huge lake on the south side of the city? You should be there every winter evening. The sky has this subtle mix of scralet and purple. As the sun keeps setting, the scarlet keeps fading into a deep and sometimes deeper purple. Now I never gave a damn about purple as a color. I never thought about it. Although a female friend of mine said I looked gay when I wore purple, after which I stopped talking to her, I never gave a serious thought to it. Last evening, I had no clue of what I was about to do in the next 5 hours. In the end, I'm not guilty.
Now why would I talk about all this? Why? Dood! Dont doze off...please... I'm trying to narrate, the story of an underdog, when he realises he is one and feels bad not for the fact that he is one but for the fact that he didn't realise it earlier.
When men in India feel bad, especially alcohol abstainers, they either get depressed or eventually kill themselves. Others, just feed on the wonderful drinks and forget that they've lost whatever they've lost.
I love the rains. For me they're like ice creams. Anytime of the day, I would have it. Rain for me symbolises the nature's support. For others, its a stranded way of life, but for me, its like the Phoneix's tears. Life reviving and revamping. October end, suggested the advent of winter. But yesterday, the sky was simply amazing. Just the sight of thick clouds covering the entire sky was a sign that something nice was going to happen to me. It did.
Last evening I realised that whoever said "Friends, fag and booze is the best combination ever" wasn't kiddin around but he was a man after my own intellect and someone who would give Einstein a complex on the IQ test-o-meter. On the rocks! I tell you, try it out. Whatever oath you're breaking, break it on the rocks. Whatever confessions you're having, shout them out at the top of your voice, on the rocks. Call, text or pray for your loved ones, on the rocks. Rocks give you strength because they've been enduring a bit too much in the past say 10,00,000 years now? Yeah. Thats right.
I personally love the rocks. So much that I'd prefer to get married on them. Naked feet.
Last evening, my teetotallism or whatever came to an end and although I'm not proud of it, I'm surely not guilty about it. I got high. It was not much different though. It was like one of those hectic days when I was enervated but a bit more like I had a time delay and time leakage. Like, I would get everything after one or two seconds and sometims, 4-5 seconds would slip and I wouldn't know what happened meanwhile. It was good though.
I leaned on the rocks and looked at the sky. The scarlet was more dark this time. Because of unseasonal rains I guess. But whatever baap. I liked it. I realised so many things yesterday. So many things. It was like there was a surge of intellect in me. A family of positive thoughts fought my inhibitions in my head. I was unwonted to this but the surge left me feeling great about myself.
Where does Jim Morrison come here? You may ask me.
I had to go back home. I wanted to ride. It was after a long time I wanted to ride someone else's bike. Captain Lee was hurt. So he wasn't with me. And I needed to ride it. I let my short hair loose and stepped on the pedal (the gear pedal) and revved through the lake side. Cold, cold wind blew hard into my face along with drops of water. The digital speedometer was touching the three digit number. Adrenaline was rushing into my veins and it felt like my intelligence reached the acme, with the time delay and time leakages still profound. I thought about the turn of events in my life. How the friends I thought to be my best friends were just ephemeral bondings, how life is transient and how allegations were thrown about me and how I couldn't do anything about it. A bad bump on the road brought me back to reality and I realised that almost 10 minutes of my time had leaked without my knowledge.
I saw the sky. As purple as purple could possibly get. 30 seconds from then, it would fade into the night. I suddenly hated the purple. And felt compassionate towards it the next moment. the worst was yet to come. The tachometer was at its max. There was too much speed and it started raining heavily. Soon, within a small time delay of 10 seconds, a storm gathered. It was very huge storm. Water and water everywhere. Clogged roads. I couldn't see anything.
Suddenly, everything went numb. Numb as it could get. Something at the back of my head. I was enduring a pain I couldn't feel. I was riding in a storm and I had no clue how it was remotely possoble. But I was driving. That was for sure. It wasn't a dream because I knew how to diffrentiate between dreams and reality. The noise at the back of my head was increasing. Out of the blue or should I say purple, a lightning struck the road half a kilometre from my bike. Then, the noise at the back of my head materialised into a voice I knew very well.
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house were born
Into this world were thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
There is a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah
"God forbid!", I shouted. I finally knew what Jim meant when he sang that song.
A night I won't forget for the rest of my life.
I thought about her.
Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah.
hahahahaha....u should get drunk more often my friend....but might i advice u against riding
you are truly an amazing writer....you have the gift of being able to transform your visions into something so beautiful that it moves me... i was so engrossed in your post that at the end of it i realised i had sprouted goosebumps......just don't ever drink and drive...cos it would be a real waste of great talent
Dead riders on the storm!! ROFL!! Cheers man thanks a lot!
great talent wouldn't go wasted. Jim Morrison is the perfect example. His posthumous fame speaks a lot about him.
This is the story of an underdog. he drinks and drives. He is supposed to do that. Its hard to abstain him from that. He wouldn't be an underdog otherwise. Would he?
it's not just your own life you risk when you drink and drive..... an underdog isn't a stupid perosn...he is someone who uses his wit to overcome all the prejudices against him.....so i don't really agree that an underdog should drink and drive... just my opinion
an underdog isn't a stupid person... the society makes him one... probably you wouldn't know that because you might not have been remotely close to it...your definition of an underdog is wrong...
smoking is also a hazard and in this globally warm world even driving is hazardous, not to u but to others... so drinking and driving comes under it... its hard for a smoker to stop smoking or a rider to stop riding becasue others lives are in danger...
cool man... i always liked
And "You'll Be Under My Wheels..." is the song when i drive someone elses car.. hehe.. my dad owns a fiat, so can't think of such things in my ride.
Dark Angel said...
well written.. but whatever ! drinkin n drivin dont mix...
Creative Shocker said...
eons ago i used to know a guy called 'shiv kartik'... he was cheerful n full of life... he cribbed life was a bitch but always 'lived it on da edge'. He nevr bothered about problems n told me jokingly that 'problems made him laugh'...he was anonymous no more.
cut back to present...shiv kartik is now shiva aditya..da guy who had to booze/fag cos he wanted a high... escape from the problems of bein an underdog... he thot those two things from which he had abstained himself from was just a self made oath...so he says wat da heck lets do it.... Problems don't make him laugh anymore... he's sick of problems cos he's da only guy havin them..he doesn't care wat happens to his life... after all it's 'one life.....wreck it!' ...
macha! the post is neat...got some really its-so-random kinda things but later you made it this-is-what-i-had-to-say kinda thing...i love this mate!
the post was as simple as it is but equally profound.life of an underdog
Aditi aka Jiggs said...
such songs are fruits of reality..he who wrote it..dint just write it..
hail the lizard king!!
Life, like Rhyme said, can be a verb. ACT TO MAKE IT YOURS. Captain Lee believed in the same. For him, life was action and inaction was sleep. It was 6 in the morning and I was slogging my way out of the bed. Because that morning, I had to, at any cost, take a break from my normal, joy-shrunken, happiness gaunt, pissed off routine of going to college, trying to live-it-out, have fun and spread Harsha-awareness. And if you were me, an adventure-seeking soul, the perfect break would come in the form of a trek to the nearest rocks. I climbed down the stairs with leather gloves, shoes and my fav pair of rugged jeans. Captain Lee didn’t take notice. He never did. He always gave me company, wherever I went without a grumble. That was him. Then, Me and Captain Lee rode our way into the rocks.
Time was ripe. I was feeling a bit low in general. I was cribbing within myself. It was that time of my life when I realized that I was feeling bad about my personality as a whole. I was seeking sympathy from friends. I felt ignored, left out and sad. Life seemed weary (adj.). I felt that the work that I did was not well appreciated. A few of my close friends liked everything that I did. A certain Rogue, who was suffering a modern age chronic relationship breakdown, got me out through a lot of crap. Others sent me relatively huge hugs and expressed their emotions in the form of Yahoo Emoticons. Excepting them, neither the faculty, nor the students of my class (non-locals as well as locals-who-behaved-non-local alike) felt that the work I did was considerable in anyway. In fact, some of them even accused me of scamming money while a few others stole the acclaim for my works. Damn these poster boys! But there was no use feeling bad now. People have the right to steal until you are dumb enough to let them steal. I forgave them (like I had a choice) and a bad bump on the road brought me back.
As the cold wind blew into my hair and frolicked with it, I tried concentrating on the drive. We went deep down into the Nanakramguda area where vegetation, on the name of development, was being ripped off. Behind the corporate edifices of the developing city, lied the little known best stretch of rocks. Captain Lee was here for the first time. I could feel him groan as he saw the badly laid path to the rocks. I thought it was better if he stayed back, I already troubled him enough. I made him rest near the foothills and I started my rock-walk. I slowly jogged my way to the loftiest mountain (rock) of the quarry.
When I reached uphill, I looked down at the foothills and saw Captain Lee look at me wearily. His body language was so afro-type, relaxed and chilled. Rap star. Unlike me. I loved him and so did my brother. My bro had a very bad hangover before he left to the U.S. Captain Lee was of a great concern to him. He told me a 1000 times to take care of him. Though I reminded him about Harsha and told him, “I have Harsha to concentrate on. His dumbness is a threat to the society”. My brother replied, “Roger that”.
As these thoughts rumbled my head, I put my hand into the first cleavage (the one in the rock dude!). I climbed up slowly. Had the MI-2 music playing in the background on my phone and felt a familiar chill run down my spine. The one I always had when my soul ate junk food and when I balled babes who thought they were hot. “YEAH !!”, I shouted. Slowly, as the first rays of the sun were hitting the top edge of the rock and as the dawn was fading into a bright morning, I reached the summit. I took a deep breath and a broad smile of accomplishment flashed across my lips and I raised both my hands into the air and stared at the crimson-yellow combination of the sky. I stepped back and felt something stick to my shoes. I looked down, my hands still in the air.
“Oh no. Not again! Damn you peacocks. What are the MCH paid toilets for? ” I shouted. I had stepped on peacock fasces. I reinstated, “DO IT LIKE A KING, NOT LIKE A LOOSER !!”.
I looked at Captain Lee. I guess it was for the first time. He grinned. I smiled back but my shoes were spoiled. I slowly climbed down in enthusiasm. My soul was re-energized as I thought it would be. I didn’t need company to enjoy the things I wanted. Captain Lee nodded in agreement as he sometimes read my mind. Man! Guess he was a mind reader in his previous life, because though he never spoke, he always understood my feelings and my urge to drive and rip off the road. He always knew that he gave me a sudden rush of adrenaline and his favorite line, when he saw me get ready to ride was, “Where to, Young gun?” and I replied “I need to get a life”. I reached the foothill and he shunned me for the thing on my shoes. I said casually, “Balls, take lite mama” and he gave in.
We went back home. Nirvana ’07, my college’s annual cultural fest was on. The night before, an awesome sufi-based Hindi rock band called REVE had performed. Awesome vocals that frontman had. The crescendos and minuendos' took me on a high and my college mates thought I was drunk. I laughed at myself when even Captain Lee told me the same thing. “when was the last time when people understood me correctly? I give a damn anyway” and he replied “Please, I am not into solving personality disorders. Leave me alone on that”.
I got ready and we again drove back to college. Things were very different that day. College was looking very colorful, thanks to a set of us, the insti was building up an image. Attendance got screwed, lab practical’s were missed, impression with the profs got messed up but the fun factor remained. Friends give you a “Hi-fi” and shout “Yo Pydi!” and life seems to rock again. The very next moment, a feeling of someone ignoring you, takes over and you get all gloomy and dull faced. Then you remember, that “Damnation leads to salvation”. Life seems ‘oh-so-beautiful ! ’again. Nirvana ’07 rocked. BIG TIME.
BTW, I almost forgot. Captain Lee is my beloved, 4yr old bike. A rugged looking CBZ. Its synonymous with my life and is my only soul-mate. I trust it with my life (cause it may kill me too !).
P.S: This one is for you Rogue :)
Aug 23rd, 2007.
"No. I won't be home if you come over. Yes everything is fine with my music system. No its not your bad breath. No it is also not your weird dressing sense. No No defintely not the underpants issue. Well I am not broke but I am not going to pay for your auto-rickshaw fare on your awy back home. Yes the cologne that my brother sent is still unopened. No I am not going to open it anytime now. Alright bye."
"Don't you hang up the landline so hard. I am going to throw your phone out"
Phew. It takes more than just patience to deal with this guy. Yes, it was Lapaki Loo. The pride-headed friend of mine. He wanted to come over but I had...err...issues. So had to stay away from him. Not unbearable of course.
But did you ever wonder, how comfortable it is to have a friend who can come over to your place just for the heck of it! You know, a friend who knows all the misgivings you are capable of and takes all the attitude you throw on his face but still doesn't feel shy to take out that one last tetra pack of Appy out of your refrigerator and ask you if you want a sip? No, Lapaki hardly asks that stuff although there isn't much left for me to ask by the time he gets to the refrigerator and I could grab some grub and soft drinks before he does. As if some Chimeron is gonna eat him for dinner and his last wish is to hide in my refrigerator.
Chimerons remind me of sad Tarot readers who have weird creatures on their cards. I just don't understand why Tarot card readers, Zodiac sign composers and astrolgers get so much rope in this tech savy world. Seriously, a company's performance depends on its working and not on the zodiac sign of the CEO!
"Oh hi Mr. Sep 11th, how is your company progressing?"
"Nothing new actually sir. We are still virgins in the field as you well know. How is yours?"
"Oh. I am a natural. August 19th man. My company is roaring."
"Here is Mr. Feb 6th. He recently opened up another food joint in the deep seas of Japan. Truly an Aquarian, I would say."
Was there ever a zodiac sign called "Dumboris"? Then all the people of the world who believe in zodiac signs can fit into it. No I am not trying to make fun of constellations and planetary moments. Not at all. I don't want to be hit by an asteroid when I am attending nature calls in the woods. But if people can be judged on the basis of their zodiac signs, Sigmund Freud would've been just a grandpa in an old family tree portrait hanging in the store room of the Freud family. Why do the Americans have the day-light savings? Why not leave the job to a couple of astrologers to decide when the sun will come out? For all you know they might come up with a Zodiac sign for the sun and then describe his future as - the coming 1million years might be hard for you. You might get a promotion. Little Lord Hanuman will come again and threaten to eat you. On the personal front, things won't be smooth. Kids will be troublesome. Be careful with the earth's atmosphere it may blow you up too.
Yes, I am sure they'd do that. Every local newspaper says their Tarot reader is an expert yet none of the things they say are totally true nor they match each others foresight. Just that each Chhadiwallah and each Bandiwallah claim to be the direct descendants of Sage Brahmam or Nostardamus and give us a 100 possibilites which include day to day happenings like "You will quarrel with your partner" or "Your boss will be unsatisfied with you" stuff. No denying that real time Fortune Tellers can actually predict minute things to huge calamities but what sort of people believe in Pindewallahs and Baiganwallahs who tell people that they are going to face things that day, what everyone has been facing all over the world over a long period of time now and which is only obvious?
If you can't really predict the future then I think you don't have any good reason to fool around people's sentiments for the sake of your stomach.
Psychoanalysis and Psychiatry are here to stay. Corporates are using them very well. Because they know that the only way to get the best out of their employees is to know them better, individually and suggest them methods to overcome their misanthropistic idiosyncracies and not to read out their "luck this week", "luck this month" and "Daily Fortune".
Note: Try this. Take a sunday edition of the Deccan Chronicle and then wait till wednesday. Now compare your zodiac sign's fortelling of the sunday one with the wednesday one. You'll know what I am talking about.
P.S: Surnames are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people is only a coincident.
well written....well the author really has a say in this issue and makes his point clear that he doesn't believe in this astrology shit.
That was good blog...but wat was the purpose....and i think the Lapaki charecter is very very funny but i think u shud get over him now and create another fictional one......watever it makes me laugh
noice baap...really random and well written...glad to know tht there are some people who still write for themselves
prateek aka pratsphinx said...
A very "velcro"ish post(it has all the characteristics your posts generally have). Made a fun read:)
must say dude tht u getting better by the min!! gr8 work man!
hey shiva,,,,,my random browsing left me here,,,,another good write up ,,,,,bit contradicting with slight comical touch,,,,,and proves your point.....the character "L Loo" is interesting,,,,,looking forward for more encounters and incidents with him.... :)
nicely expressed viewpoint....hav a real good time reading
Dark Angel said...
RANDOM !!!!! wonderful, after long it was like "arre, baap! its so true..." types. Brownie points for good writing n explanation !!!!!!!
at the end ... "Lovely"
loadsa stuff that keeps you reading here...love the thoughts on frnds...and yes keep writing....by the simpsons fan...duh...
Creative Shocker said...
this one was really good... but Lapaki needs to go... he's been over-used n abused in
Creative Shocker said...
I consider this to b
ahhh...nice random thoughts....
i totally agree with
and i wanna meet this lapaki...
Serendipity Sreesanth took the catch
my heart took a lurch
down under beaten to pulp
pakis were swallowed in one gulp
racist roadsiders making love near the stinky lake
I mean why not? I forgot the last time I was rhetoric to an extent of making Wodehouse hide his books in shame(at the risk of being corrected by some guy who scored peanuts in his reading section in his kindergarten). What is it that is holding me? I know the word 'youth' starts with a y. So do I! Why can't I start a write up without a question?
Is the human memory limited? Is it true that you can learn new things only at the cost of forgetting something else that is old or unimportant? If not, how can one explain the fact that learning the word 'bantering' and its meaning pushed my friend's birthday outta my head? Also, do you know I have a silver ring which has an inscription inside that says "THE RENEGADE"? I know you totally didn't need that fact but knowing it won't hurt you right? Now quick, tell me, what is the radius of the sun? I am sure you forgot. Unless you are a JNTU undergrad, you are not supposed to forget it. Now, comes the question. Why did you forget that? Yes I always ask too many questions.
Before my blogs get too sterotypical I will tell you something else and divert the topic and make you think I am not writing about the same things again and again. Hey, if you took a course in the Tamil language, what would be the first word you learn? Ok sorry I will stop it right away. Are you claustrophobic? Ok ok sorry. Continue.
Look out the window immediately. As far as I know, you wouldn't really care to do that. So just visualize what you see out of your window. Now freeze that image. Now, put that image into the album of your mind where you've been putting all the memories of your childhood. Certainly, your memories are always in the form of snapshots right? So place that image there. Do you think the next time you look at that album in your head, you'll remember the image you stored which I asked you to store? No, you won't. That is because you can't force snapshots into your head. They are just taken automatically. What I don't understand is, how and when are these snapshots taken? Under what conditions? Sometimes, when we're with friends, we try remembering funny things that happened long back and we remember something else. Why this serendipity? What sort of a cipher is it that we don't know how our brains work? Sigmund Freud never faced shit like this. Why me?
Yes. I again asked too many questions. Guess I am stereotypical. What was the reason you read my blog till the end if you knew it was going to be stereotypical? You expected serendipity?
P.S: If you think that this was not stereotypical then I would just like to say that my friend lapaki, is pride headed and he uses my best cologne without my consent. I hate you man. Spotted: A portrait at Villa, Coffee House, Sindhi Colony. Title - The last act of defiance.
hey i love this one the most of all your post...you still got that characteristic chaotic randomness going on.....but somehow this chaos is more poetic and has a flow that is delightful...
Creative Shocker said...
madness...absolute madness... i love it
your blogs have a nice roundness to them...like a circle comes around...
Alter Ego said...
Hey..Im officially in love with
Alter Ego said...
Hey ..Im officially a fan ... absolutely love the stuff u rite.. inspires me to rite more..keep adding posts..
hi.. really love
talk like me?
act like me or rather walk like me?
can u spin like me? dance on the floor like me?
can u see like me, fantasize like me?
can u screw like me? sing, growl and headbang like me?
can u think like me? care like me? sleep on the floor like me?
oh...can u do this like me? can u comment like me?
can u moonwalk like me?enjoy the sun like me?
can u comb ur hair like me? groom like me?
can u take a pic like me? think about a girl like me?
can u wait for a phone call like me? can get sick like me?
can u be clueless like me? bitch like me?
can u have a pain in the neck like me?
can u ____ like me?can u not hate someone like me?
and can u puke on the floor like me?
can u watch a movie like me?
can u not eat non-veg like me?
can u drink like me?
forget like me?
loose like me?
sin like me?
have fun like me?
Into the busy corridors of the Monda Market we march
Squeezing into the crowd, trying to bargain on half a kilo quantity of lady fingers, we march
We march, in pursuit of that one red Bengaluru tamata, we march
We march, to find the cheapest prices for green leafy vegetables we march
Amidst the stinking smell of the open sewerage of Secunderabadand
Amongst the rich, poor and the bourgeios we march
Irking the chaffeur of the Merc, not heeding to the horn, not letting his car through
Staying on the street, fighting with the 'santrawallah' for that one extra santra
We march, to get the best deal on moong dal and Bombay Ravva
Smiling, after looking at the rupee we saved.
We march.Into the Monda Market we march.
Typical Indians. Bargaining on vegetables and fruits. Some stingy Indian once said, 'Its not how much you earn that makes you rich, it is how much you save'. Curls took me to Monda market in Secunderabad the other day. She had to buy some moisturser. It was an enriching experience. For the mosquitoes I mean, as millions of them sucked blood out of my already emaciated body. The worst was the stinking smell from the stamping of the rotten tomatoes lying on the streets and the buffalo droppings just beside the moong dal vendor's shop. What intrigues me, is the ethnicity of this lot. People, rich and poor, male and female, kids and Grampas. Everyone, irrespective of color, cast, creed, age or sex. Everyone bargains. Even the *itch who gets down the E-class Merc bargains trying to rip the poor old fisherman man of his worthy catch, while her hubby dearest is stripping off the Government's corpus fund on the name of some shipyard building over the banks of Gandipet.
I don't understand this. People put thousands of rupees on one square yard of land but they are very recalcitrant when it comes to pay that one extra rupee to the vegetable vendor. Why? What kind of an ego clash is that? They actually feel proud of saving that one rupeeand share the tale with the neighbours when they meet in the mornings while watering the tulasi plant after their shower.
No wonder the rich get richer and the poor get poorer in
Oh by the way, Viccissitudes of a certain Velcro is open for the following bloggers to post on my blog. Others, I'm sorry to miss you this time but just scrap me and you can blog in starting next season.
The guests are:
Aditi (0n paper)