one

life with a dog in a room awaits.
life with fragments deposited across time and space
life without trust in familiar institution

a place surrounded by wide open spaces, lots of kids in the neighborhood and less traffic.
a place connected to the past by images, witnesses and a new generation growing up.

the silence grew in the first week. 
i got to eat a lot.
it took time to know i had dug myself out of another hole;
even made a decision, and sold a part of my past.

now i feel nothing
now i have nothing more than what I did not leave behind
now i have finally completed what took two years to stem in terms of sad stuff. now is zero. now is when i am sure that i am definitely not the person i imagined i would be as a kid.
i do not see anything but through what we uphold over time.
i see what it takes to get this far. as life, as people, as society, civilization as well as the fact that no person is completely absolute.
 

blue skies, dark clouds, same Sun

THIS BLOG HAS BEEN RESET

THIS BLOG HAS BEEN RESET

Happy Birthday Lavanya

In the beginning, we were together, briefly.

Dear Daughter Lavanya,

Today is your third birthday. Just like the first and the second, I am absent.

No one will think of asking us what we wish. You; too young to know or remember me and I too trapped by Indian law and legal system to get my rights as your father. Which includes breaking the blockade your grandfather, grandmother and mother have thrown around you. May you never find out their true nature, for it is masked from you by genuine delight in your existence. Just their hate makes them deny the same delight to your father.

Your first birthday, mother and cake.

I never saw you start talking, walking and become a personality on to yourself with a name and an identity. If we were to meet, you would have to be introduced to me. You see, you do not know your father since you achieved cognition.So as you grow, and I remain increasingly apart, there is but one thing I would like to do.

Since I cannot be around to be a father, I would like to leave you in far more capable hands than mine. Jesus is your father. Since I cannot be around, I pray on this third birthday that he may take care of you in your life and that you may know him as your father. He is my God.
I believe in him by choice, not by birth or compulsion. All I know is, my God suffered.
May God always bless you, my dear child. I love you so much it hurts. So much so that I feel grateful to have stayed alive to write this to you today.

Be all you want in life. End all you wish in life.

Always,
- Arunesh 

Miss you, ma.

Ye Olde Indian Ads

VST! VST!

If i am not mistaken, the boy on the right is wearing Gola shoes.

Well, one must smut if one must....

Left me with a lifelong addiction to milkshakes since school

from the sublime to the ridiculous, eh?

Wonder where is she now?

Relegious texts redefined.

Bible: An ancient novel full of murder, corruption, homosexuality, bestiality, incest and cruelty. It is often read to children on Sunday.

Gita: A sacred Hindu text that is incorporated into the Mahabharata and takes the form of a philosophical dialogue in which Krishna instructs others with Machiavellian ease and gathers material for his memoirs to be published 'abroad' for saffron-clad, bald whites dancing barefoot.

Mahabharata: Call it dynasty politics with India now an Indian culture in politics. One of the biggest problems in current day Indian politics is that there is no leader and no successor. Sadly, this problem also has its roots mentioned in the Mahabharata.

 

December night

 On a December foggy night I reached for the light in my brain.

Why should I explain it can never be 2011 again. Yes, it was a real cold night. 

The wheels that stole your heart are the wheels that healed my heart.

Missing you was the last smart thing I did on my part.

  

Everyday I look at the same moon as an open wound.

It's just the way blood must flow down to the ground.

 

   

With covers ripped apart, go right back to start.

Letting things to is exactly what hurts like a needle bed in a butcher's cart.

That butcher's cart you ride carries death to your bride.

That butcher's cart you pride cuts a conscience narrow and a trail wide.

That butcher's cart you ride left me boiled, steamed, stewed and fried.

That butcher's cart you ride cut out my heart when my hands were tied.

So obviously that butcher's cart kept you rolling while my hopes died.

Until one December's foggy night I reached out and turned on the light.

In my brain, it shall never be 2011 again.

Now (now) can (can) we (we) forget the pain?

bloody cold and bloody lonely monday morning i am having.

Excavate  memories, each brings it’s own sequence of dreams. The sun peeling in skinny depletion, while those who came before confront the truth, so say the dreamers. With your secretly feared reamer from the past, my brethren behest was that i do onto my will till I shuffle with pressurized malevolent intent. Sheer luck collected by daylight, these sequences pale into.

Upstairs cryin’ in my bed I lay
 
Since you left me that very day
 
I screamed and fought against the pain
 
I even rocked myself to sleep again and again
 
Then I gave upand called myself insane.

Simple Words

Simple words
failed to make anything.
You trembled.
I fled. You bled.
I fumbled for response.
I erected a few stones.
I stared till I could no longer see.

So much insouciance.
So much stone.
You could have been there forever.
You could have been there alone.

FlashbaX

I get hopelessly sentimental.

I’ve been coming off two break offs with the same person again. what I can say is that  a couple of years ago, my ex, who had been vexed by my broken leg chapter, suggested I make friends in office. [I walked on a mal-union for a year, before getting a rod in my shin and loosing half an inch] I was well into whiskey and anger, contemptuous of everything almost and capable of extremely hurtful, invalidating and biased comments.
So at a friends place usually teeming with college buddies, I  fell in love with a girl who didn’t say much but heard my every action. I was stupid and instead of letting go of my new found friend, I proceeded to monopolize her. I couldn’t see how my aggrandized nature was stifling her,  Instead of letting go of my new found friend, I tried to find my soul mate. Almost did, too, but there were differences along with the things that make two people want to be with each other. We couldn’t handle the rest of our lives, let alone each other’s. It was an opportunity but I took it for granted. Played out my personal demons and lost all perspective.

I was too blind to see beyond my baggage. She snapped; I went to pieces;  I begged her to come back; she relented; I got confused, I couldn’t handle what was needed to fix it all. I was too fresh from my depressions.

Y’know, it felt bewildering, everyone went on about their way in a daze, including me, not saying anything. Then, with take two, I realized that I was unable to do what she said was required. In the back of my mind was a bit watching me act like a nutter. Then, with time and isolation, I began to see where I needed to operate from a more mature definition of love and life. I was just being a crazy guy snatching things when he could. Unable to express my hidden feelings or read her responses correctly.

Things came to a climax of sorts, out of all safe proportions and there was I, knowing that I had to get away and try to do it right. So I did. So many dumb approaches, that I truly deserve what I got for being so dumb. Strangely, I am somehow glad to know that I can still feel pain.

Since then I’ve been rehabilitating my heart, taking each day weakly as it comes. Learning to live again, re-learning all the small actions needed to say alive and contiguous (probably the last time I use that word). Crying rivers and hanging on to the pieces. Still in love, in so much as I could not change with her around. BAD NEWS is that I am ex-communicado and she does not even spare a single word. Today, I was finally watching a movie and suddenly I find myself rising at the sound of a passing car. I know she won’t even stray by my street in her dreams but I can’t help it sometimes. Feverish, yeah!

Anyway, I’ve begun my journey. I’ve accepted the situation. I fully intend to make the changes because, quite simply, I can see where I was wrong. I’ve begun by repaying my debts, facing the music from those I hurt and somehow hope to still hang on to some good, in all. Somehow glad that I am not all gone and have learned some things that I, frankly, only learned after she left.  I hope to do a lot and won’t rest till I can meet all Ayn Rand-based definitions of self esteem.

“I cried when I wrote this song;
Sue me if I play it too long.”

I could never make it up to you out there. Way I think, ever since I remember, the odds have been something the less thought about, the better. Still, I claim all is redeemable. Still I believe in the enduring cycle from befuddlement to wisdom of the heart. I believe that under all circumstances, hanging on is all one can do. I get entrusted and I let you down. Truly, I cannot see my own moment of forgiveness. I cannot imagine when I would be forgiven for my transgressions. I have to face the facts. Nor can I see any reason to carry on except to make amends. I’ve been warned off by you and yours because I ruined all chances and still I howl at the gates insisting that all is never lost. Some assure me but plan contingencies. I don’t blame them. My years of unpredictability have given me a horrible reputation.

“It’s a world where no one takes a stand within themselves. Unless it is for practical reasons. Practical as it means currently can stretch across all activities. Collaborative evidence has never been stockpiled higher. Sub-divisions go around in circles telling each other it’s sustainable. Falling across the grain so many times has given me awkward flashes. Some glimpses of what could also be. Not really glimpses but more like an elongated or encompassing feeling of having popped through the skein of things once again. Making zigzags across what most approach linearly.” Approxs my erstwhile bullshit philosophy that made a mess of my life. “I’ll clean up my mess I guess.” (Tom Petty, Handle with Care, Traveling Wilburys).

Weird part of it is that I have seen all kinds of compromises and all kinds of stories that the human heart tells itself. For all kinds or reasons. Mine does too. I’m sure yours does too. The more we see outside of our own life, the more we choose to accept as an ‘also’. I’m still looking to live life on my own terms, believe in what I choose as good in my life, not fall for at least 90% of the stuff that is fed to us, look for the next reason to stay alive a little longer. Defiant of all condemnation, my only alternative is to carry on or die trying. In this space, city, place, I have been put together with some people. Some allow me to live, some hate the memory of me, some always welcome me and some want me to allow them to live. For the latter, I have no answer, but to retreat into my silence. Begging the skies above for some way to repair. Then acceptance falls all around me and I feel the emptiness I felt before when I started again. I empty my mind of all past and figure out my first few steps. I keep my head down and focus on getting my first few steps right. Then I looked up at what I had done wrong. I picked the closest to start. Always loved a concentric circles model for self-transformation.

Nursed a butterfly. Picked him up from the road while walking my dog. Put him on a flower in my bike yard. Few hours of sun and he flew off to a nearby tree. An hour later, I was standing around and he came to visit me. I tried to see if he’ll come onto my finger but he avoided me. He was black all over with orange edges to his lower wingtips and white spots lower on his wings.

call it science fiction, advertising or just plain nostalgia

old friends...bookends

A cracking good book to read: Ready Player One

call it science fiction, fantasy or just nostalgia, this book is kinda sensitive too.

middle age stages

40...
40 used to be a good mileage, in my day
40 is when they tell you you are set in your ways
40 is like reminding today of the night yesterday
Is it the end, I don't say. But I think, 'No Way!.'

38 is a state
37 is well past heaven
36 is the last of finding 20-something chicks
35 is said life begins like, by the way, you're alive
34 is just like 35, only before
33 and you just add one-third
While 32 is a choice between jobs and a 'do'

What's that?
What about the women today?
Well I was romantic, sympathetic
Even a closet feminist until 498A.

A forgotten father's letter to his daughter!

Dear Lavanya,


I find it increasingly difficult to hold on to my memories of you, knowing that I may not even recognize you based on those memories. I think I am finally learning to live with the pain. I do try to remind myself that there is someone as beautiful as you in this world but the feeling of being torn apart is larger and hurts more.


I don't think you know me and are too young to cognize the absence of a father. In any case, your grandparents and mother will surely take care to make you understand the difference. What they won't do is explain the difference in their story and mine, but I expect a smart kid like you will eventually grow up to be shall figure it out for herself. 


I failed to keep myself, girl, unaffected by the last year. I wanted to be worthy and succeeded. Then I realized that I would not be allowed by your grandfather to see you, in spite of changing. You see, while I was trying to find my pride in landing a good job, your mother had changed too. I haven't spoken to her for more than a year and I have no way of knowing. So there you have it. I would like to know about my wife and daughter but I can't. Besides, your mother does not want to know and won't.


I don't expect you to have any recollection of the months you spent at my house after you were born. You had (another) grandmother, a dog and ignored the whale song I played to put you to sleep. Yes, there was also anger, fights, worry, fear of the lack of money and dueling mothers-in-law. But since then, all that's left is probably just a surname to you.


All that is actually left is a 100-year old dog and a father who has no idea how to continue his life. Once the 'moving finger has writ; all of your piety and wit can change not but one line of it.'*


So now I think of what to say since this letter may never find it's way to you. Should it be the one thing that children never hear and parents can't say enough; that 'I love you.' I don't expect much in the way of forgiveness as a practice so 'God bless you.' Those are the words I remember since I was as small as you. Be good, be all you can and ever want to be. It's your life, so let's not be wasting any more time on me.


All my best, always.
Your father,
Arunesh

Elvis Costello said it best!

I saw a newspaper picture from the political campaign
A woman was kissing a child, who was obviously in pain
She spills with compassion, as that young childs
Face in her hands she grips
Can you imagine all that greed and avarice
Coming down on that childs lips

Well I hope I don't die too soon
I pray the lord my soul to save
Oh I'll be a good boy, Im trying so hard to behave
Because there's one thing I know, I'd like to live
Long enough to savour
That's when they finally put you in the ground
Ill stand on your grave and tramp the dirt down

When england was the whore of the world
Margeret was her madam
And the future looked as bright and as clear as
The black tarmacadam
Well I hope that she sleeps well at night, isnt
Haunted by every tiny detail
Cos when she held that lovely face in her hands
All she thought of was betrayal

And now the cynical ones say that it all ends the same in the long run
Try telling that to the desperate father who just squeezed the life from his only son
And how it's only voices in your head and dreams you never dreamt
Try telling him the subtle difference between justice and contempt
Try telling me she isn't angry with this pitiful discontent
When they flaunt it in your face as you line up for punishment
And then expect you to say thank you straighten up, look proud and pleased
Because youve only got the symptoms, you haven't got the whole disease
Just like a schoolboy, whose heads like a tin-can
Filled up with dreams then poured down the drain
Try telling that to the boys on both sides, being blown to bits or beaten and maimed
Who takes all the glory and none of the shame

Well I hope you live long now, I pray the lord your soul to keep
I think I'll be going before we fold our arms and start to weep
I never thought for a moment that human life could be so cheap
Cos when they finally put you in the ground
They'll stand there laughing and tramp the dirt down