Where is my sock?

My shirt is pit stained, damp patches beneath my arms. I didn't care to change. I brought two bottles of wine, drank first one quickly and felt better, tension leaching out of neck. This one taste less bitter now. Today I saw her, we were out to meet this client and there she was in traffic in her car. I know she saw me I can tell the way she looked away like she saw something distasteful. Something off pulling in some way. I almost gave her a smile and she looked away. Robbing me away of my smile but anyway it doesn't matter. I am over. I closed the chapter. She is past. She is gone. Although I was surprised to see her here, for a second forgetting everything. But does it matter? She is married and happy. I think I should get myself a tattoo or some pet, I don't know. Something fell off the bed.. Oh it's me.....

But I loved her and when I say love its putting it mildly. I threw myself in her and she spit me out. Trust me, I know me, you don't. I am in this bar's bathroom some deal in office I give rat shit is about to get finalised this week so we are giving ourselves a break and I am very angry, like very very angry. I should perhaps write it down on paper and vent but it's been ages and I am slowly getting use to these voices. Why is this guy standing beside me? What he wants? What is he doing in loo? Should I talk to him, distract myself with small talks? I am sure he thinks I am psychotically deranged. Should perhaps talk, I like his tie, should i complement him? Would it sound pansie?
"Sup with those brows man?"
Why did I even said that? He didn't look at me.
He is still silent. Is he robot? Or is he just fermenting in his own sadness like me. Who left him? I need a drink. 

 know you might be wondering I talk shit and I am not aesthetically pleasing and cohesive in academic, literary sense but hey it's my life and I do my own shit my way. I need a drink.... Fuck this shit man...

I am gonna cut that bitch and make her feel the pain I feel, I will pierce her flesh and let warm blood trickle down and then I will mercy kill her because I love her and I can't see her in pain for long. Yea! That's what I gonna do. I am drunk again, welcome back. Tonight I am missing her so extra vodka shots, because what's the point of saving all these sperms and for whom?I remember that week in college when I didn't know you were leaving me I promised you I won't drink vodka or anything and i meant it and it was all beautiful and happy and so perfect. Tonight I am making sinkhole in vodka with your all the 'I love yous' and crawling into them to hear the echo of your voice. How easily you went away like it was nothing. Bitch! And how happy and beautiful you were looking that day without a shadow of sadness.
It was so nice and so relaxing to be with you sometime it was even more nice but it also sucked a lot of time when you were having all those mood swings and other stuff but it was perfect to me. You fought. Went away leaving quagmire of memories and quite inconvenient ending. For me it was either you or you, you should have at least said why this what is leaving god happening with me.... Strange feeling...

I like partially drunk me better, I don't know who put nirvana in my playlist and I hate nirvana. I think a lot of shit. Its not always a direct translation of reality. Like I was thinking about quitting my job, I was like "Ram what the fuck are you doing with your life? Selling soaps? Really?" And i thought about giving up but I had nothing lately to give so yea job pays enough for booze and rent and chainsaw in case some employee feel like killing his ex when drunk. So yea I am a slave of corporate bullshitology but a well played slave. At one point of my life I had given up everything, you know what point I am talking right? And when I think about her I feel strange concoction of love and hate flowing through my veins.  OK! Too sentimental, what to do should I stuff a sock up my mouth to distract?

Where is my sock? 

Fuck! Shoes taste like shit. Like her. Like her kiss and now I am thinking about our intimate moments and now I am smiling like a drunk fool and I know you are also smiling. Sweetheart. This feels good. Nope! This feels like psych ward with these noises in head and ohh what I wont do to sleep peacefully. What I won't? I think I should get a tattoo like these hippies with cum drop near the eye or something. Perhaps cat is a better idea. Whatever...

Mei toh raste se ja raha tha bhelpuri kha raha tha, What happens next will blow your mind

When I was child I had a dream. I had a dream to wear red-blue pants and dance with my crush on the tunes of "Kisi Disco mei jaye". Later I realised I am no Govinda. I can never be him. Nobody can be him (Fuck you Varun Dhawan, You Chinese Govinda). He is not just an actor but a cult, my idol, mere sapno ka raajkumar.  Kasam Shilpa Shirodkar's cheeks the girl who enjoys Govinda's brand of senseless comedy is my kinda girl. If she has seen all Govinda movies then I'ill give her extra 10 points. Infact I already know what kind of conversation I want to have  in 'Ladka Ladki ek dusre ko jaan lo' stage.

Me - Hey!  Have you seen 'Aunty No. 1'?

She - I loved it. My fav.

Me - Cool. Gambler?

She - Ayie maa! Already 25 times.

Me - That's so touching. Hum tumpe marte hain.

She - Wow Govinda and Urmila were so beautiful.

Me - Arey nahi. I mean I already love you re.
She- Dulhan toh jayegi Dulhe raja ke sath *blush*.

I have plunged in to almost every genre, swam through it’s deepest realms, and then went on to another genera to explore it, throughout my life but never found anything like Govinda music. I loved my Beatles, Nirvana, Madonna but they lacked the melody I craved. They lacked quirky lines that I can use on girls. Govinda supplied it all. And why not? It was Govinda's movies that I fell in love for the first time, Rani *Sigh* Mukherjee. Govinda  taught me that the most important thing in life isn’t gaadi, bangla, paisa, degree but it's love. Remember Raja babu? Karishma loved this illiterate Govinda and continued to love him even when he  becomes verily gareeb. So I kept a mental note that in the canvas of life one must reserve the most expansive brushstrokes for love. My love for Rani Mukherjee grew deeper and my grades got weaker.

I used to imagine myself with Rani Mukherjee lying in some hotel in Shimla and proposing her while she look at me affectionately, laugh and kiss my forehead saying 'Buddhu' and me falling for her again.  When in late 90's I heard rumours of Rani-Govinda affair it broke me. It was like your girlfriend cheating you with your bestfriend. I almost cried all night listening 'Oye Raju pyaar mat kariyo dil toot jata hai'. Later when things got clear I felt ashamed of myself. How could I even Imagine Govinda, my Govinda doing this with me? So cheap of me. I let my ideal down. I disappointed him but you know he always remained by my side like a watchful protector, silent guardian. His songs are filled with just right amount of wisdom.

Those people who stereotype him as comedian need to watch Gambler, Hatya, Swarg and many more movies in which Govinda proved  mettle of his acting. Yes, he never got Oscar but neither did Brad Pitt for acting. Maybe some legends stay that way. In Swarg Govinda challenged bollywood's first super star with acting that left our eyes moist. In Chotey miya Bade Miya he convincingly left Amitabh Bacchan behind with his belly-aching comedy. He is indeed the NO. 1 we have in bollywood. Govinda at a point was working in 49 Films simultaneously and signed record 14 films within 36 Hours. Stardom, bitches.

From 'Kurta phad ke' to 'G phad ke' Chi Chi has traveled length and breadth of bollywood. I have spent almost my whole childhood watching Sachin and Govinda on TV. When kids were singing ring-a ring-a roses I was humming 'Prem jaal mei fas gayi mei toh'. I was so busy with Govinda that I had no idea what firang music is. When in class 8, a beautiful girl asked me do I listen to backstreet boys? I told her I listen to my mom only. 

If you watch enough Govinda movies you become impressive flirt. 'lal duppate wali tera naam toh bata', a trend setting number of its times, this track was the first of its kind which made introvert guys courageous and approach girls and ask their names. Wanna take things a step ahead? We have a Govinda song for that also sir - 'What is your mobile number?'. There is always a Govinda song to describe your life's each and every moment.

Govinda is perhaps the best dancer Bollywood has, grace, fluidity, expression callisthenics. It's not easy to copy him, just try dancing like Hrithik Roshan and that's closest you can ever be to Govinda's dancing style. You've failed as a couple if you have never danced to Govinda's songs in the bedroom. IT IS MUST. I still cant resist few thumkas when I see Govinda's pelvic jerks in orange pants fastened just below his cute nipples. I can go on and on but as one Govinda song goes Bye Bye Miss Goodnight See You Again .

The Scholar's Apprentice

There were a couple living in mountains in a small tribe. The brave husband was tribal king and loved by all. Wife was beautiful and loyal who had happily left comforts of rich father to live with her husband. They gave birth to Muruga. Muruga was sent on his quest for learning and adventure. The couples later gave birth to a healthy child but with huge facial disfigurement with an elongated nose that looked like elephant trunk, they called him Ekdanta. The child was pampered since birth, feasting on sweets and rich delicacies. With no one to play he resorted to 'studying and eating' while guarding his mother. He ate enough to gain weight and studied every literature available to him. He grew as a friend, philosopher and guide to people around him. Many scholars from far land began to counsel him and take his help. Then occur the great drought. Rivers dried up, society began to collapse and laws of land were lost. People suffered for 14 years and then it rained. Slowly agriculture begin to bloom and lets just say things were back to normal.
Mr V V, a scholar realized they had lost some precious literature during great drought, he picked mammoth task of compiling all the literature to save history from any future disaster. Ekdanta who was accredited young scholar agreed to assist Mr VV.  Mr VV narrated the greatest epic Mahabharata for him to jaunt down.

Incomplete

He could sense a bliss again. Someone beautiful was sitting with him, right by his side. Was she really so beautiful, or was it the alcohol?

"Why do you do it?" he asked grinning.

"Do what?"

"You know... moving from one relationship to another?"

"For the beginning part of it" She said.

They both laughed together.

"Still? " He asked after a while

She remained silent and he was mesmerized; mesmerized by her innocence. He wanted to touch her soft hands to understand the meaning of beauty.

Her voice interrupted his thoughts. "See! I love beauty. I love to touch beauty...to feel it. Beauty is measured not by love, attraction or lust. It has nothing to do with the purity or naivety but in the curiosity it arises in the beholder. Why people are so in love with Mona Lisa? 'coz they are curious about it. Why it was made? Who she was? And all. And when you are curious, as it is our innate nature, our quest transcends imagination and all logical possibilities and that we deem as love. And... right now I am curious about you boy" She smiled.

Journey: Rain drop

"Mumma! When I grow up I want to be a rain drop" said little Ramanujan looking outside the window at rain.
"OK. But you need to study hard for that." her mother replied casually while searching for TV remote. Few days back Ramanujan had said to his father he want to be a bus conductor because it is a coolest job to travel all day in the bus and to play with loads of coins.
"Study hard then" his father had replied then.
"Mom, in which college I have to enroll in to become a rain drop?" Ramanujan asked still looking outside.
"Why do you want to be a rain drop, Ramanujan?" His mother asked still clueless about the remote.
"Arent they beautiful mom? Falling from such height for random strangers and for what but just to reincarnate again in to a drop and continue the cycle and make millions happy for some time in this process." He said.
His mother stood still. Paused. One part amazed. One part concerned. One part happy.
"I think I put the tv remote in the fridge mom" he said and ran away outside as if he had found the purpose of his life.
"What? And where are you going now? I will beat you Ramanujan, come back" his mother shouted but the music of rain coherated with his heart beat as he ran towards playground soaked in rain.

Dilli se hoon, Jamie Lannister!

I have officially spent most of my nights staring at the sky from my bed. Delhi is altogether a different beast at night. Like some tamed dragon ready to fly you to hidden treasure. There is a strange uncertainty about her nights. You can never be sure if you will be able to find a single star in sky, let alone constellations.
मेरे शहर का चाँद शर्मिला है
रातों में बुर्का ओडे रखता है
She teases you some nights and deprives you of glimpse of celestial wonders. There is some love-hate relationship with her. All through out the day, I despise her. She makes me sweat, she makes me fight, she makes me sick, she makes me kiss hideous pollution. She makes me feel insignificant. She makes me feel lost. Bitch!

Bollywood flirts with her, authors romanticise her. They boast this city has seen very depth of both, hope and despair. Every act of crossing the road is is a miracle of existence.
In nights, lying lifeless in my bed looking our at vast infinity I fall in love with her. Everynight. Masochism at its best. What seems like a cage in day's light feels home in night's darkness. Stockholm syndrome.
It accepts everybody and from everywhere. Delhi reclaims both riches and poors. The bastards she scolds in day, she holds them in nights, close to her tattered chest. She listens to our fantasies, aspirations like a lover and pats us with eternal hope.
Like a mother, she brushes our hair and tells that I am special. In day light you question your identity in the gigantic urban sprawl of 16 millions but at night she makes you believe one day you will own her.

Lying in my bed every night, observing her façade of cruelty slipping by, I watch Delhi. Sometimes street dogs barks in protest that I am hallucinating, but like a timid kid I lift my arms hugging this beautiful beast and I exclaim "Bitch! You have pulled me back again". 

Kids, there is no quit in unrequited.

Unrequited love. When you continue love without reciprocation. Most of you must have fallen for that one. The guy who feels like your prince charming. That girl who is so cute that PETA will take offence if anything bad happens to her. That guy who is legend awesomnes made of. Whatever, if there is god even he can't make this person more better. Yep, that's a kinda love you are in. Creepy! *Pukes*
You meet this person and you don't know how to express yourself anymore. And what you do- through poetry or paintings. So much said through short verses. So much expressed in a few strokes of paint.
These are the days when you start pondering about those rhetoric philosophies-
 Is conventional beauty is everything? Are you blind to my inner beauty?
DEAR LORD, I HAVE SACRIFICED 12 ROSES HEAD. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?
No seriously, do you know how much ferns & petals charge for a dozen roses?
But I am taller than his gf... How can he neglect this? What about genetic superiority?
I guess 26 missed calls delivered the message to her subtly.

And then reality hits you. Ouch! Ahh. Then comes the days when you lie in your bed and you don't know if you will be able to survive the day or not. You feel like slicing your wrist (dayem this shuffle for playing Ranjhana sound track now). But you are smart and you don't want poor knife to be called criminal all its life. You decide to live. For the future of knife, maybe.
Truth be told, that seldom I do, unfulfilled love is most romantic love. Largely because fulfilled love involves you buying nappy for kids and switching to colours TV when you want to watch ESPN. You, my friend is a brave soldier who chose difficult path. You are making this word a better place (How? Umm... We will come to it later). Seriously,I am proud of you, because you allowed yourself hope when others let them pulverised by despair. You tried. Don't give up. And if you feel you are losing, write some emo status on Facebook. I will personally 'Like' them all no matter how crappy they are. I feel you.