The End is the Beginning is the End

Originally posted on:

Monday, January 14, 2008

'What is wrong with Terpsikure?' I heard the overtly obnoxious lecher around the corner say. 'Its not Vicissitudes of a certain Velcro anymore. Its Vicissitudes of every other man in the world!'. Of course, my admirer. I told ya. We're going global. So it ought to change. Who knows? Social Media might buy me too!

This post is a very special post. Because Lips decided to post on my blog! He otherwise posts at Steal This Blog. In the past, he free lanced for JAM, JLT and HydroGen.

This is very unusual though. Because when I first asked Der Untermensch a.k.a Lips to Guest Blog for me, I knew that I would get his post in the December of 2011. So when he mailed me with his post, I was pleasantly surprised. I enjoy his writings a lot. I'm sure you'll enjoy it too.

************The guest blog starts here************

I cant write anymore. I hate the world too much. I have been away from my regular stomping grounds for a few months, and havent posted to my blog since November. I have had the opportunity to travel a little. Reflect. I've seen the world. Contemplated its mysteries. Pierced the shadows, lifted the veil etc. etc. ..And i hate every last sentient molecule of it. I realise now that maintaining a blog was a feeble attempt at defining my reality. Confining it within a few words, and then processing it for mass consumption. But I just cant do it anymore. Think of it as suicide. Think of me as a martyr. Your own personal Jesus [snicker, snicker]. (Or your own personal Wolverine [Snikt, Snikt]) I'm moving on now, forcing my own evolution. Meta-sapience is a quark's breadth away. This is the last transmission from a dying intelligence. Cue last chance to evacuate planet earth before it is recycled. Cue comatose by Ayreon. Cue the last trumpets. Cue the lamb and the seventh seal and the whore of babylon and the three esoteric trials of man. Cue the end of it all.

I want to go away, as far away from myself as i can. I want to run away from it all, crash through the safety barriers, and drift off into space.. like a comet, scream across the blood red horizons, and then fade away into the middle distance. I want to collapse into myself. Implode. Curl up and fucken die. On second thought, I just want to stop contradicting myself.

Something vaguely 'Zen' would be appropriate here. I'm feeble at haiku, so here's a nifty aphorism instead.

"You may use the finger to point at the moon, but once you see it, the finger is no longer essential."

Think of words. We dont use words to describe the world around us.We use words to *create* the world around us. Our reality. The words are just a mirror of the code beneath it all.Which is merely an extension of ourselves.

And once we truly *see* the world, the words are no longer essential.

So do i see the world, finally?

I dont know.

But I'm holding up a finger.
And I'm pointing it at the world.
Guess which one.

Ocean Waters and the Boss' Dirty Deeds

Originally posted on

Monday, November 19, 2007

Hi fellas! A new face on my blog. A guest writer. A friend of mine is the guest on my blog for this post. Its his post on my blog.
This is the new face of blogging which I call - Guest blogging.
The guest this post, is Varun Chenna who writes at http://www.varunchenna.blogspot.com/
Dr0p in the comments and encourage this young lad. You can guest blog on my site too. Just scrap me in my profile on orkut and I'll get back to you!


Embryono Cheerio!
-Velcro


---------The guest post starts from here-----------

Name:Ocean Waters
Location:Airbag Industries LLC, California, USA
Profession:Senior Stock Control Officer
25th January, 2007


Hi my name is Ocean Waters. My father was born to his parents when they went on a holiday to an island, hence the name Waters. My mother was born to her parents when they were cruising on the atlantic, hence the name Ocean. Well, pretty unusual for a person who sits on an office desk gets his morning coffee and by the time he takes a sip, it gets cold and tastes like liquid shit. Blame the work load and the coffee maker.

A major security breach occured two weeks ago. A cargo reportedly coming from Haiti was smuggled into the industry. They reportedly contained a chinese drug. The drug is supposed to be so lethal that it kills you if your heart rate drops. So you need to keep doing rigorous stuff and expose yourself to adrenaline pumping activities like getting involved in dangerous activities, fight fear or do foreplay. There is no antibiotic for it. You survive until your adrenaline keeps pumping.

I wasn't there during the check up and had no clue as to how they sneaked that shit in. I was called by my CEO. Such a motherf***** he was.
"Ocean, we got a security breach. I want you to look into this matter as it is a major concern for the company. It is you who has to be blamed for. I want the traitor, alive."
"Sir, but I wasn't there when they smuggled that stuff. I was away on official work so how can I be blamed for it?"
"Hell with your official work. Who sent you out to do somebody else's work?"
"Mitch Baker."
"Fuck Baker. I am your superior. You take orders from me not from some bitch like mitch."
"But, sir"
"No more fucking around. You dont fuck with me now Ocean else you'll see yourself being dragged in a sewer pipe of 500 yards of shit. Now go and get me that motherf*****."
"Yes, Sir".
I started the investigation. Well, I didn't know where to start. I went to strip clubs, walked empty streets, kept an eye on Mitch with a high resolution telescope that can increase or decrease its field of view. I saw people making love, man beating wife, kids watching porn, teens kissing , NRIs selling 'pan' on the golden Californian beaches, Hispanics dancing half naked and Arnold Schwarzanegger, campaigning for the forthcoming elections but no sign of the crook. Then I realised, who am I searching for? Then suddenly the room I was in, filled with an eerie surrounding. There was a strange aura filling the entire room. It was like the northern lights. I felt I was on a space odyssey. Then the room was filled with a strange smoky odour that was very familiar to what my grandma used to use when she went clubbin'. The door separating the living room and the dining area opened and the smoke rushed to take the shape of a woman. I was at a distance and it looked very hazy because of the smoke. The form sharpened and could see a really hot woman with good "twins". I couldn't see the face but i felt there was no firmness in the woman's body as i kept observing and moving forward. I realised that she wasn't a hot woman anymore. Just an old lady with nothing to lose, came back as if a prophecy was coming true. I guess she took the form of an oracle to predict the unforeseen.
"Oooceaaan!", she called out.
"How, how do you know my name?"
"That's because I changed your diapers when you dropped stuff into them. Your father beat the shit outta your ass for stealin his money from his wallet."
"What the.... Who are you?"
"Your Grandmother, you dork"
"Grandma, is that you?"
"No, its Elizabeth Bathory who came to castrate you. It is very much me you shit head."
"What are you doing here? You are supposed to be in heaven."
"I took leave for a day to help you solve the mystery. God wasn't allowing but I persuaded him that you cannot do it with your bird-brain."
"Grandma you are trying to offend me."
"Oh shut up, you puny little piece o' crap."
"Aaaarghh!"
"Yea Yea!"
"Alright so where do I start from. I have no clue as to where to look for and what to look for."
"You never had any clues."
"Yea, so help me then."
"The thing for which you look for is right where you thought it could have never been. Think for the reasons. Ask yourself why you had to do this, why you had to do that or why you had to go there instead of somewhere there."
"I didn't get you"
"Alright just think."
"Ok I got it. So what should I think about?"
"About how to effectively please a woman sensually."
"Grandmaaaaa"
"Then what you punk? Think why you had to be replaced with someone else? Think what was the need? Is it that it was only you who could do that work or there was some other reason. Think!"
"So you want me to start my investigation from my office?"
"Yes"
"Alright, thanks grandma."
"Anytime grandson. Gotta go, god's getting pissed off there is nobody to watch over hell. Cya!"
"Err yea...cya!"
I went to the office and checked the records for the person on duty who replaced me. No official records. They were missing. Then something just struck me on the back of my head. It was Mitch. No no. Mitch didn't strike me on my head, it was the idea which struck me. It was he who did all this. It was he who helped the goods from Haiti to get in here. He couldn't do it when i was there because the report goes to my boss directly.
Just then...
"Ocean, wassup?"
"Nothing much Mitch. Sup wid ya?"
"I thought you could help me with this package delivery thing. You know the streets well, don't ya? I want this to be delivered very fast and no one here knows as well as you do."
"Okay! but what about the check up here. The goods are going to arrive here anytime now."
"It's gonna take you an hour or two to get back. Less chance for a check up. I'll make some arrangement for that."
"Hey, where is Stephen? He knows the lanes too. Its he who taught me the basics."
"Well, um..he is on leave today man."
"Oh! I see. Alright cya then once i give the package."
"Alright, cya."
I met Stephen and enquired of he was on leave that day.
"Hey Steve, wassup?"
"I'm cool except for the dead body in my bedroom. Sup with ya?"
"Can I ask ya something?"
"Sure man, anything but 'bout the dead body in my bedroom!"
"Sheesh! Who'd care about a dead body man? I'm not the LA police. So is the dead body cute?"
"Is this what you wanted to ask me?"
"No actually, wanted to ask you if you were on leave last week, the day the security breach occured?"
"No man I was very much there, but in the Operations Research department. Mitch sent me there for some work. Why do ya ask?"
"Nothing specific, jus asked."
"Ok"
"Hey man, I just remembered, I need to go change my diapers..err..data sheets, I gotta leave."
"Alright man, cya!"
"Cya!"
So my suspicion was correct. I got you fucker. I got you bloody Mitch.
"Sir, its Mitch who is behind all this."
"Behind all what?"
"The chinese goods which were smuggled and brought into the industry."
"What the heck? There are illegal stuff being smuggled into the company and you tell me now?"
"Sir, you reported to me and asked me to investigate on how this illegal stuff was smuggled in."
" What the hell are you talking about? I don't report to you. I am your superior, and you report to me."
"So that is what I am doing here, giving you the report."
"Report about what Ocean?"
"The smuggled shit you asshole."
"What the....mind your tongue you pervert."
"Oh look who is talking?"
I bend under his desk and pull out a woman and raise my brow.
The boss speaks, "Its time you got a promotion young man."
"I won't tell no one about your dirty deeds in the office cabin. Just get that Mitch arrested."
"Aye."
A loud ring interrupted my whole state of mind. It was the alarm clock. I was dreaming the whole time. It was one helluva dream. All about perceptive reality. I perceived and so it was there.
My name is Varun Chenna. Drop by at my blog if you liked this :)

Don't Turn Bad

Originally posted on Mar 5th, 2008.

Dots. Tiny ones. Connecting them is so fu*king hard! Although, all my life I was told to do that same thing. Learnt it only a million times. 'Connect the dots, son' my dad said as I stared at an abstract drawing which had just dots in it in the weekly EENADU magazine which came as a suppliment every sunday. When in the end, I connected them, I was happy at what came out of it. A simple drawing of an animal. Either a rabbit or a doe. Every sunday I woke up early, to do just that.

21 years. Hyderabad has fed me. Hindus and Muslims fought around the corner at old city every week. Telugu families in my neighbourhood, which migrated from Andhra always made fun of my Urdu mixed Telugu. Someone even called it "Urugu". Someone just said it was Telangana.

Where is hate still mongering?

"Doooood! I cannot believe you started it! You were the one who used to shun it all the time!"
"I'm a fucking hypocrite baap! I don't follow what I say."

Am I troubling enough? Not yet? How about, "I don't believe in it anymore"?

There are times. When you wished the imaginary bullets passing through your head were real. Right? When a sane thought of turning back time and starting all over again seems not just silly or ridiculous but also repugnant and obnoxious. Do I need to restate? Or wait... Am I writing a testimony?

Are you helping? How? Will you kill the mocking bird with me? I don't want to turn it into hate. I am living with that. I will die with it. Kept the faith and now trying to keep it real. You too. Keep it real.

सीख दे पर सिखियो न मानत।

All this fu*king time, I hurt. Now I'm hurted. No corrections. Spelling intended.

I just want one more thing from life. I want amnesia. I'll die for it. Tell me where do I get it? Does the US defence have it? Is MIB really true? MIfu*kingB reminds me of the same thing I wanna forget man! Fu*k!

Yours Truly
Anthony Blood.

Musings on a Mahasivaratri

Originally Posted on Mar 6th, 2008, 2:59AM.

Well its exactly 3 AM. My eyes are hardly blinking. There are a lot of first times about this morning. For starters, I get to spend time in front of the TV and the computer without any remote complaint from my parents. I starve myself for exactly 22 hours while having only some water and antioxidants(tea). I somehow have an elevated self control, even at the most rigorous-testing time. The best part is, I'm not high.

People have huge misconceptions about Shiva. As in the God. We have misunderstandings in history. The death of a certain Indian leader some 50 years back is still controversial. Some say that his death was not natural but it was due to STD. And what about the JFK killing? Any idea as to who got him assassinated? Hitler, Subhash Chandra Bose, Kurt Cobain... Mysterious death circumstances. Forget what Dan Brown tries to prove with the Da Vinci Code. Forget about incidents that happened 2000 years back. About Jesus and the Holy Mother. Can you 'connect-the-dots' in case of the aforementioned deaths? Stuff that happened, last century?

What the eye didn't see, the heart didn't grieve over.

I don't know much about Shiva myself. Although, I am named after him and I am a Shaivite. And although, I am told to have a temper of Rudra and the dancing skills of Nataraja. What I do know, is that Shiva is associated with entirely wrong stuff these days. The single most misunderstood concept is his dance. Many of my friends, males and females alike, have associated his dance with obscenity. Which is quite false. His dance has a cosmic significance. The dance of Shiva and his mudras affect the earth. He is the God of Dance. Not the God of Shringar. We all know who God of Shringar is, don't we? Yesh. Our very own, Manmadha. I also know, that Shiva's ucchharan of the Omkar, has a process of evolution surrounded with.

Times have changed. There are sacreligious people all over. I mean those who defame religion for their own benefits. As in some party nights in Goa, where people promote getting high as divinity. Which is also a huge misconcetion again. The Soma or Ambrosia, is not a drink that takes someone on a high. It is the food of Gods. Of course, not recommended for humans as they tend to get high on it.

I had to bring up all these issues is because there have been too many signs. Too many that I couldn't ignore them on a daily basis. It all started when a 'friend' of mine said, that the name Shiva couldn't have suited anyone, any better. Then there are obvious signs like the name of my blog. Terpsichure, originally means dance. I changed it to Terpsikure so that it will sound more funky. I hear there are a lot of Shiva temples in Kerala? Then that explains why Sreesanth and my friend Sriram, both Mallus and both very expressive on and off the field are good dancers.

There is too much to know about Shiva. His ultimate Bhakt is an Asura(the evil people) whose first name is Ravan. He is the Adi-Yogi(the first Yogi there has ever been). He gives away wishes like Late Mr. NTR gave away subsidised rice to the poor when he was the CM of Andhra Pradesh. His vehicle is a cow and thats why the cow, is Holy. He has poison in his throat. He has a third eye. Pretty dangerous it can get at times. Manmadha Macha had a bad experience with it. Parvathi Devi, is his better half. Literally. That's why, he is also called as the Ardhanareeshwar. Now we don't exactly know why he shuns great palatial rest places which Vishnu and Brahma consider only mandatory for relaxing, but I like it. I adore it and I also follow it. My ruggedness is Shiva-inspired. Yes I am over-doing the 'I-am-great-you-need-to-look-at-yourself-in-the-mirror' but I don't care. I haven't eaten solid food for 30 hours now which is the longest period I ever went without food and which means I tend to write differently.

Seriously. Der Untermensch, Raul, Kellwyn, Shweta and some other friends had said the same things it was like it was something telepathic. Dood I need to sleep. Or maybe not. Or yes I do. I wonder what Anthony Blood is doing.

This blog, has a significance. It displays my change in mood from last night. It tells people what I think of Shiva in general.

P.S: No offence to anyone. Individual opinions enertained. But didn't intend to make fun or defame anyone.

The Penultimate Point

Twenty one years. Hyderabad has fed me. I have been at this same place that same amount of time. I have seen Hindus and Muslims fight around the corner at old city every week. I have witnessed flyovers collapse. Telugu families in my neighborhood, which migrated from Andhra region, always made of my Urdu mixed Telugu. I have been in love and out of it. Or I am still stuck to it, I'm not sure. I have hated someone and stopped. I was hated and still am. I tried being what I wanted to be. I have tried to make friends. I have tried to meet deadlines. I have worked my way to the top of the ladder and just before I reached the peak, toppled and fell. I have been the victim of others' hate, pride and ignorance. And of course, of Bruteforce. They threw stones at me. They made fun of my company. They hated me for saying the right stuff. They hated me for taking my own stance. At the end of it all, what bugs me the most is the fact that they'd mention me as "Oh he is just someone I know from Undergrad school".

The last four years of these twenty one years have been very memorable. The kind of memorabilia you would never miss out on when you are old and you are mulling. Albeit, I can remember the first day of college very vividly, I seem to be loosing track of time when it comes to looking back at the stuff that made me what I am today. Truly cherishing moments were those when we came out with M'06. I was just a beginner at designing and I couldn't write half as good as a fourth grade could. They, my seniors, taught me. They made me realise that if I wanted to express myself then I should not look into the mirror but look into my heart. They opened my eyes to a world that I never knew existed. They corrected me with a slap on my head everytime I made a mistake. I respected them for that. I admired them and to a certain point I idolised them. Then came the day, when they had to leave. I despised the day. I cribbed about that day for a long time.

Time passed by. Winter came after autumn. Life seemed weary. I saw my juniors crib about the smallest of the things. I laughed at them, in public. I taught them that life is meant to go on. They listened to me in awe. Ironically, I have become the senior who will not be seen in the college from next semester. The time of the year has come and passed, when anonymous professors from other colleges question your abilities and test what you have learnt in the last four years. I don't want to be here though. I want to go back. I want to relive them all. The happy times and the sad times. I want to slap the girl(TDP) of my class who thought I had a crush on her and told everybody that I proposed her. I want to pick up the chocolate wrapper I threw in the department corridor and put it in the dust bin. I want to hug the trees under the shades of which I revised that one last bit of theory question that appeared in the question paper. I want to keep the rocks in which I sat chatting my time away, devoid of thirst of time testing scales. I want to watch a movie together with all my friends. I want to end feuds and cold wars which exist in groups of friends and well wishers. But time is always a constraint. It is stopping me now like it always did whilst trying to go back and correct my mistakes. Make myself a fool by getting trapped in false love. And deserving the very worst treatment there is.

So, I bid farewell. To this college. To the walls, to the cafeteria, to the stairs, to the basketball court to the D Block where we have mirrors in washrooms(Does your college have one? Ha Ha. It does? Still. Ha ha!) and to my favorite part of the college, the rocks in front of B Block.

Every student will be here. At the same point where I am right now. Nostalgia is not the right word to describe my feelings. It it something else. Something that will grip your happiness and at the same time, makes you feel good about it. A heightened sense of emotion and satisfaction. Graduation day if not far away. Four years of my engineering are flashing in front og my eyes as I type. Not every group of friends stick till the end. Not every student who passes in distinction does something useful with the subject. Not every student who scored the highest in Physics or similar subjects, give an acknowledgment speech at the Nobel Prize ceremony.

There are people waiting for you out there, ready to clutch your throat to get their work done. Some would jsut pay peanuts for the breakthrough research you do for them. Manners is excessively rated to the extent that if you would sneeze and wipe your nose, people are scandalized. The way you deal with them depends on your attitude with which you graduate.

I habe tons of funny incidents that will make you roll on the floor laughing and some that will make you shed a tear or two. But I'll let you readers learnt it on your own and baby! At terpsikure, you make your own memories!


At the end of it all and at the risk of sounding cliched, I'd simply sum up my engineering life in one line.

"Engineering was fun man!"

R.I.Pee

"I drive all night, just to get back home."

I had to quote that. The thing is, I've been having identity issues lateley. I guess its been some.. hmm..let me see.. Twenty one years? yeah Thats about it.

When I was a kid, when I could be your average right handed batsman and also manage to be the left hand pinch hitter, people called me an indecisive prick. My ambiguity was misinterpreted. I felt bad. Thought it was a phase. Sooner or later, I'd get over it.

Back into the present, I am just a guy building up a new virtual identity, because the last one I owned was burnt alive. The ashes still remain. Phoenix, they say is a mythical creature. But I wish it were for real. My MP3 player is called Fawkes.

That reminds me of yet another sad ass identity crippling encounter. But what the heck? I was always the one they despised.When I say 'they', do you even care to ponder who it might be? I certainly don't indicate the Gods. Definitely not the Nazis. Not even remotely, the Americans. Nope, neither are 'they' my childhood best friends. 'They' refer to.. come on.. take a guess.. yes, yes.. you are almost there.. yes.. Awwwwe.. You thought they were my college buddies? Noooo...'They' are my you-know-who. Yeah now you got it right. They cannot survive without despising me. They feed on the flesh of my brains. They throw up into my skull after scraping its surface with muti razored blades. I heard them repeatedly say, that they love my hypothalmus.

For them, my existence is the reason they had to take some steps back. For them, I'm just a passing cloud. For them, I'm the biggest mistake. For them, I'm just the rebound to the rebound. For them, I'm the most gothic, underdog zombie fit for the role of one of the extras in the "Life is beautiful" movie. Or maybe, "Scary movie", or "Epic movie".

Time is weary. I can only see blurred images of what good life used to be. I cannot peek into the future. Atleast not without the crystal ball. Blood seems to be the dearest thing to me. At this point in my life, when I am just days away from the complete annihilation of the self, I stare deeply into darkness. Trying to search for the key. The key to the graveyard. I have to let it reach the hands of those who are looking at the annihilation as eagerly as I am. I have to find the key.

I'm not home. I am away from civilization. If Robert Frost were alive, he wouldn't be able to describe the amazing view of these scattered city lights that fade away into a brilliant star lit sky(Keeping in my mind his obssession for the woods and the loo). A prussian blue backdrop. Just about the right amount of light on one corner. Life seems weary too now. Emancipate me, oh stupid silent stink emerging from the gutter. Give me the rope. Pull me up this mire. Pull me into heaven or put me through hell. Life is such a bad guy. It never showed me the directions to live. Why we even have directions on plastic boxes and how to open them. If only this life were just a dream..Damn.. If only, I would wake up tomorrow morning amidst a different dimension. But if that's the case, if this aint reality, then my parents definitely overpaid for my sofa set in the living room.

I think I should get going now. Home is far away.

"I drive all night, just to get back home."
- Anthony Blood

I'm Back!

yMuch to the hacker's hate, I'm back. My blog had been deleted by an anonymous 'person'. But thanks to google, I got it back! Meanwhile, when I was missing my blog, I started posting on another blog. Why, you ask me? Because post break-up trauma was crippling me and I had no frustration-outlet. Yeah, yeah. Give me the whole 'you are a tragic hero sympathy seeking soul you should be mercilessly killed and everyone should hate you/dump you/leave you' crap. The point is, I still, DON'T give a DAMN!

Anyway, before I forget, I'm posting elsewhere. Please show your love/hate/gut-wrenching stupidity there. Love ya all!! Muah!!!!!

Oh, I almost forgot to add. I got a new lappie! So expect only more posts per month.

Yours Truly,

Shiva Aditya/Velcro/Rocky/Lord Curzon/Ceasar

Amen to damnation!