Airports

Walking hurriedly down to the arrival area, i noticed another lady walking down anxiously.. Who is she here for? Maybe her mom, maybe her sweetheart or maybe a friend she once fell in love with.. Not sure. However, unable to reach him, I try to locate his flight on the screen which tells me he has landed.. Ah! How I long to see you my friend, my lover. Knowing that you will still take a bit more time, I decide to sit in a cafe.. Sipping strawberries and cream sounds like the right thing to do.. Red rose strawberries.. The pleasant cafe boy asks - madam, waiting for someone? I reply with a big smile - Yes!. I cant stop looking at every person passing by. What a coincidence that each one of them seem to be looking for someone. Usually I am always racing against time, today seems different. I find myself counting the minutes as they slip by so slowly.. I imagine you walking towards me - in shorts, a cap, unshaven, in shorts and with your favorite headphones around your neck. I resist the temptation of calling you again to check where you are, expecting a sudden arrival which is so exciting.. Enough now, just come!

Losing your mind..

I hereby decide that I'm not going to be part of this madness any more. When I see people losing control on their bodies and their mind, shouting like hooligans, falling over each other, saying random things, being unaware of their behaviour and making a fool of themselves, I know in an instant that I don't want to be a part of them. These people who spend their hard earned money for being in this state, have they ever, even once, thought about donating a few rupees or dirhams in charity, a few pennies to spare for those who don't have a square meal and go to sleep empty stomach, I'm sure never. Man was supposed to provide for food, clothing and shelter for themselves. How did life become so complicated that they had to let loose by getting high on alcohol? Weren't we born to live meaningful lives and pursue excellence? What does one get out of consumption of excess amounts of alcohol, what does that temporary high mean? Why aren't people chasing the high that the wright brothers got out of inventing an airplane? Or the high that van gogh got out of painting one of his masterpieces? Young people in today's generation spend a substantial part of their incomes on something that adds no value to their lives. Do they think of those days when their mothers didn't buy a new dress for themselves so they could save for their kids? Or that child on the street who sleeps with one hand on its stomach and has unfiltered tap water to quench his thirst? Yes, this arguement can be extended to expensive clothes, shoes and bags too. Yes, why not? But at least ur not making a fool of yourself while wearing that rolex watch? You don't need two people to hold you while you try to walk straight. Your parents taught you how to walk and they hoped you would be able to do that all your life. But no, you let a chemical control your brain and get nothing productive out of it. Not a penny of my hard earned money is going to go into this anymore. I'd rather spend that on charity.. At least for once, I need to stand up for something I feel is right.

Dance bar

I went to a dance bar last weekend and to my surprise, I was the only one who was shocked to see what I saw. Ok, so I had never been to a dance bar before and I wanted to see what its like. I saw women sitting in a queue, in tight flashy clothes, covering the lower halves of their bodies with a cloth. When their name was called out they would come and perform a dance on a bollywood track, on a stage. It was clearly not a cultural performance, it was not the dance that people were there to sit and appreciate. It was more about the vulgarity of the song and the dance. It was more about some drunk men ogling at the women and their bodies. Apart from thinking about the men there, I also ended up thinking about the women and started imagining about their lives. The lady in the corner was continuously making passes at a gentleman sitting in front. I imagined them meeting outside the bar after a couple of hours and trading money for those 11 minutes of intimacy. There was one girl who looked quite upset while dancing, as if she was not that much into it. I could imagine her doing this for money, maybe she was funding her brothers education. They all looked like lower middle class indian girls. My parents would experience a slight discomfort just by the fact that I was sitting there amongst the audience. Do you think their parents had any clue that their daughters were doing this? Did they even know? Its quite possible that they think their daughters are doing a respectable job here, little do they know that there are some drunk men buying a dance while their daughters keep their self esteem in the changing room and provide for that father's cancer treatment or that brother's high school fees.. Maybe if I don't go there, that young boy might lose his chance of getting an education, but if I do go there, I am definitely helping that market exist. The market of trading the indian woman's self respect for money.

Time waits for no one

Just a couple of hours and he could have met her and said Goodbye. But time waits for no one. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and years - they are on their own schedule. Oh hang on a minute! No, time waits for no one. The rich, the poor, the old, the young, the good, the bad - no one. I got reminded of those eagerly awaited visits because you would get us a chocolate, those short stories, the family gossips. Brushing your hair and the red ribbon that you would tie at the end of that plat, the long car journey and using your arm as a cushion to sleep, and those childhood stories you narrated which transported me to the world where he grew up. I guess the time had come and it wouldn't wait. Its ticking away as I write this too. So - don't wait for the right time to say thanks, don't wait for the right time to say that you love someone, don't wait for the right time to say sorry. Time waits for no one. Once it's gone, it will be gone forever leaving behind memories and a new minute, a new hour, a new day. May your soul rest in peace.

Life in a Metro

Of alochol, women and a stranger.
A birthday evening, people start coming in. Alcohol starts pouring and in a few hours, most guests are slightly buzzed if not more. Blaring music, both rock and roll and the bollywood type play in the background. Soon a neighbour comes complaining, and the volume goes down. People dance to the music, the heartbroken guy and the girl-who-drinks-till-7 are quite drunk and start dancing close.
In the meantime, the Child-of-June invites the stranger-in-his-40s over, he comes, entertains us all with his crazy behaviour and soon passes out. His girlfriend is much awaited, soon she arrives, disappoints the men, and has to leave for her friend who's parents want her back home. In the meantime, the married couple start fighting over winding up and going home, the woman wants to stay and the husband says either you come now or never She starts bickering over how married life sucks and curtails her freedom. Soon, she cries, gives up and has to leave. Another bored chap says how he is missing someone (seems fake) and takes the opportunity and leaves with them.
The birthday boy gets an expensive gift from someone-who-he-is-not-his girlfriend. Another quiet guy who-doesnt-tell-girls-he-works-for-jumbo is just sitting around passing random comments. Soon, the heartborken guy and the drunk hippie girl start making out in the balcony, lock the bedroom door and stay inside for hours while the rest sit outside making fun at them and the passed out stranger who is salivating and constantly getting hiccups in his sleep. Some of us get tense, check if he is breathing, and then decide to let him sleep. Apparently, he pissed in his pants at night too. When he woke up, he was asked to leave.
The music lovers play songs on the guitar all evening for the guests and for each other. At 4 am, I decide to leave, as I have witnessed enough in my sober state (thanks to the mycoplasma-who-breed-asexually). I was bored and out of place for much of the evening, mostly because I was sober and because I do feel I am living in a different zone right now as compared to the rest of us. I feel disconnected with most of the music, the people and the lives they are leading. I come back home, take my medicines and as I lie down, I wonder, are our lives as fucked up as I think they are? Or is it me out of place and out of time?

As Lennon would put it - Imagine no possessions..

Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can...
Why are people obsessed with possessions? Possessing the biggest and fanciest house, the funkiest car, the latest electronic gadgets, the tons of clothes, bags and shoes.
It is so difficult to talk about your experiences, memories and opinions, and so easy to talk about the new mall on the street, the latest sales and promotions and the latest apps on your funky phone.
Even though you may have the latest phone with the latest applications, giving you updates by the minute, why is it so difficult for you to know the top news stories of the day?
Are these possessions making us better people, richer human beings, more intellectual, more sensitive to feelings and emotions, or are they just turning us into morons incapable of an intellectual mind and a human heart?
Can we imagine no possessions for some time?

The Newspapers of our existence

Newspapers have run out of fashion. The morning paper with bed tea is now obsolete. Everything is online. Be it checking the daily news on the desktop, the laptop, the notebook or better still - the BlackBerry or the I-phone.
Who cares whether there was an earthquake, a storm, a cyclone or a neighbourhood murder. We all seem to be more concerned about whats on someone else's mind. Someone is angry, someone is depressed, someone wants to go on a holiday, someone is happy, someone liked a movie, someone's dog has a birthday today, someone just took a piss after 4 hours. Ya, right!

Some people have a rare collection of beautiful pictures of themselves, which they change everyday while some people go about - "you guys look beautiful together!" and "ur such an amazing couple, made for each other" and then there is "wow... awesomeeeeee pics!"

Everytime a photograph is taken, it is evaluated as to how it would look out there and when is the soonest I can reach home and upload them all? Oh, hang on there is one more option - Mobile uploads!

Any opinions be it political, social, or fancy quotes stolen from the internet, find a way!

What is called "social media" is now, for me, a newspaper of one's existence - anything and everything from cold and flu updates to news about hookups and breakups, from pictures of short road trips to long holidays, engagements, weddings and honeymoons - and this newspaper gives you all the spice of everyone's life.

Gossip and spying has taken a new meaning and everyone seems to be hooked on to this. Including me. So when was the last time you posted something or checked someone else's photos? Its already been 15 mins? Don't waste your time here, go on refresh your "News Feed" and Enjoy!