HUMBUG !!!!

'Twas the night before Christmas - Old Santa was pissed,
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks,
I have good mind to scrap the whole works.

I've busted my ass for damn near a year,
Instead of "Thanks Santa" - what do I hear?
The old lady bitches cause I work late at night,
The elves want more money - The reindeer all fight.

Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids,
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better,
Those assholes from IRS sent me a letter.

They say I owe taxes - if that ain't damn funny,
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?
And the kids these days - they all are the pits,
They want the impossible... Those mean little shits.

I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds,
Assembling dolls... Their arms, legs and heads.
I made a ton of yo yo's - No request for them,
They want computers and robots... they think I'm IBM!

If you think thats bad... just picture this,
Try holding those brats... with their pants full of piss.
They pull on my nose - they grab at my beard,
And if I don't smile... the parents think I'm weird.

Flying through the air... dodging the trees,
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees.
I'm quitting this job... there's just no enjoyment,
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.

There's no Christmas this year...now you know the reason,
I found me a blonde... I'm going SOUTH for the season!!

A dream

He leaned back in his chair…. Looking on quietly… unable to tear his eyes away even for a second…
Looking at her as she lay curled up against the huge pillow… eyes closed… peace written all over her face…
She looked so much younger….dwarfed against that huge cushion… he could almost see the reflection of the child she had been….the worry lines around her eyes seemed to fade as she smiled…
He wondered what she was dreaming…. Would he be in those dreams ?

His smile faded as he realized… it would soon be time to wake her up…
There were others who had a greater claim to her time than he did… and they would soon begin wondering where she was…
She had come to him directly from the airport… and he feared the questioning “raised eyebrow” looks they would get…
Well…it would be faced when the time came… something had to be done…

Until then… it was time to end the dreams…

the seeking

They walked across the endless plains… no destination in mind
No destination….
But with a purpose firmly etched in their minds
With a hope of meeting their destiny and embracing it…
They walked….
Heedless of the hot sands and the cool grasses
Headless of shady forests and towering ruins….
They walked….
Their passing disturbed shadows and the beasts stirred…. Watching from a far with malevolent eyes…

Chasing the darkness which seemed to flee… forever a step ahead… but always tantalizingly within reach…They walked….

Stumbling upon a page from the past

Tinkering around… visiting a few blogs… I came across a familiar name….
A name I haven’t thought about for a long time…and on the rare occasions I do remember…it’s with disdain tempered by a pinch of confusion.
But once that name was synonymous with every thought…with every plan for the future…

Interestingly…I expected to read this person’s blog and feel a rush of memories flood in… but that just did not happen…
As I read on…into older and older posts…looking for something I could identify with… I came to realize… that if what this person has written reflects the true personality, then I never knew or understood who this person actually was.
Not in one single post could I see “my version” of that person….

Was I simply blind ? or was I misled ?

In a way, it’s a relief…
And in some others… a disappointment

Sometimes I think I have a perverse desire to dig into the past and bring up questions like ….How ? Why ? and all that… I guess many of us do that…
Either way… it’s a chapter well left buried…

Of gods and men....

I recently read an article with the above title and it struck me as quite pretinent.... are we, as indians, truly as proud of our diversity as we tell the tourists ? Or is is just another tag line for the globalising India... "Unity in Diversity" yey !!... while nursing in our hearts contempt for those weird accented foreigners who somehow became part of "OUR" india.I doubt there are many among us who have not used reagionalism or religion to vent on those "Intellectually pseudo bongs" or those "Rude and uncouth punjabis" and so on and so forth... the best of us have done it...
Gods were once icons of hope...prosperity...love...now all they represent ( whether we admit it or not ) is hate. well..."now" is of course not the apt word...its been going on for centuries...around the world...but i would like to think we'ed have evolved as humans by now.... instead we seem to be degenerating into the dark ages once again.
Being a staunch supporter of globalisation and a firm believer in capitalism.... I think these are the religions that will see us through and not the million or so "almighties".
The poor man is screwed either ways...so might as well make the most of it...

YOUR FIRED !!!

Hmm…”firing” seems to be the frayed and over used buzz word of the day….
Whether we look at it in the context of pink slips with an image of Donald Trump pointing at us and telling us to fuck off…( at least that’s the image that comes to my mind )
Or we look at it in the context of what’s been on television the past week…. “firing at Taj” “more firing at Oberoi” “a little more firing at CST” “yet more firing at Nariman House”
…yes…I am starting to get sick of the word…
But this is not yet another rant against the unjust world , corrupt politicians and our ineptness at being decent human beings…I guess we’ve all posted to our blogs…discussed it in office…sent patriotic emails ad nauseam…
My dilemma has more of a personal…selfish nature…
I feel as if I’m sitting in this ivory tower watching these events pass me by as if on a television screen…
Me ? I can never get fired. Me ? terrorists are never going to attack ME ! these things only happen to strangers…
I find myself in a situation in which I am unable to care about these strangers as I am “expected” to do… sure I make the appropriate comments….pay lip service to whatever is considered to be the “in thing” but all I think is..yawn…so what’s new ?
I wonder how long I’ll be able to insulate myself from the world ? I don’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing…. But there it is… and no apologies..

giving up....

He turned off the television….no longer able to make sense of the swimming images in front of him.
Shaking his head to rid it of the strange cobwebs that had settled there, he got up and wandered around the dark apartment.
His body seemed heavier than ever…. Like dragging around a dead weight tied to the ankles…. He knew the weight could be shaken off and the cobwebs cleared…. He had done it before… hypnotizing himself with happy thoughts of times gone by….and fantasies of times to come….
But today was different…. He could feel it….he felt himself loosing the struggle to maintain the façade…even in his own mind…. He was tired of fooling himself.
After a few aimless circuits of all the rooms…. He made up his mind… or more accurately….he simply gave in…to what seemed inevitable
After all, who would blame him? All the justifications were right there, he thought.
Now, after giving up the struggle, he felt more at ease with the mists surrounding his mind……a fog that dimmed out reality settled on him.
“Best if I turn my phone off…. Don’t want anything to spoil the mood” he told himself…. One of his last lucid thoughts… and eager to be gone, at that.
He had what he needed… he always did… and he collected the things together and kept them on the table in front of him…neatly, in order of how he would need to use them….the process seemed natural….like a ritual done hundreds of time….
Peace would finally be his….. It would no longer matter what happened…he smiled as he realized… he simply did not have to care any longer.
The darkness came, creeping over him, giving him the comfort he craved, and he pulled it over him, like a child pulling its security blanket…
He smiled then….and a single tear rolled down one eye….

"Forgive them for they know not what they do!"

It’s hard to fathom why we treat each other like we do… but we do it, for the most part unknowing of how it would affect those whose lives are attached to ours like strings… our every action sending vibrations across unguessed paths…
Have you ever been treated so bad that forgiveness can never happen?
Friends betrayed you. You got a Judas Kiss. These are some examples of pain and suffering and not wanting to forgive. Yes! We want them to pay for hurting us so badly. We want them to get there just reward. But anger and the inability puts a chain around our necks and it leaves ushurt and damaged and unable to move on.
Forgiveness is like the aroma of a flower being stepped on by your heel. It has a sweet smell even though the damage has been done.
As the song goes....." The memory now..is like the picture was then.....once its been crumpled...it cant be perfect again"
To be able to grow and move on with life one must be able to forgive, but that is not saying to forget and to not remember what they have done. It is just not holding it to their account anymore.
It is a bitter sweet experience. It takes time and one must deal with the consequences of their actions but to be able to set your spirit free, you must find a way to be able to move on and let it go.
Sometimes we do stupid stuff and can't believe we were capable of doing such things. But we must also forgive ourselves. It is the key to unlocking many doors.

I forgive you all....for leaving....for dying....for not understanding....
I wish I,too could be forgiven……

The Second Coming by W. B. Yeats

Normally wouldnt put up something not written by myself, but just wanted to share this....

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Dead dogs on the road...never look at them too close,do we ?

There are stories that are true, in which each individual's tale is unique and tragic.And the worst tragedy is that we've heard it all before...and we cannot allow ourselves to feel it too deeply.We build a shell around it..this is how we walk ,talk and function...day in and day out...immune to other's pain and loss...which,if it were to touch us..would cripple us...but,for the most..we do not let it...we cannot risk it. Tonight,as you eat...reflect if you can...there are children starving in numbers large enough to numb the mind...you might find it uncomfortable..or you might not,but still...you will eat. Women..men...old and young..there are so many of them and so many of their stories are tragedies with griefs too deep to be contained...but here and there tiny joys...beacons of hope can be snatched from the darkness...enabaling us to maintain our own personal impressions of sanity.
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"No man"proclaimed ..well..someone..."is an island"and he was wrong. If we were not islands,we would be lost..drowned in each others tragedies. we are insluated for the sadness of others by our very "island" nature and the repetitive shape and form of these stories...for every story begins and end like this....there was a human being who was born...lived...and died. the rest are just details..which we may fill in with our own experiences. Infact...to wax a bit eloquent and a bit off the point (as if there is a point to the whole thing )...There is nothing more unoriginal than life...like snowflakes..each life is unique in detail...but they'er still all the same...
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sorry...still havent reached that place where i can make my point....but will do..in the meant time...any comments ?