I like Poker.I like 29 way way better.But I like poker too.I mean,it teaches you a lot about people and what they are.Like someone who doesnt bet with a loose hand,is probably a pussy.And the opposite,a dickhead.If that dickhead wins,he's called a winner.Like,of course,the millions of successful people.The non-winning dickheads land up in the streets and they die,like a little blip.Blips,by the way,are those who we are indifferent to.Together,these blips can create a sound but we quell them back to being little blips.Its a funny circle concept.Like the food chain and karma.
So I went to this engagement to Bangalore,last weekend.A close friend was getting married to a nice guy from Bombay,both mallus.Out of a two hundred,I was the only one travelling long distance.Its strange how strangers meet and congregate for a purpose totally random.
And yes,the train journey.I like trains.Not because I can actually look out of the window and see things that are not fluffy and blue and white.The hustle bustle in the station,drinking cha and talking to old men.
So,I played this weird card game with three old men on the train.The game was simple.Like solitaire,except that you have four people playing it.So while playing,this particular old man tells me this story about how his friend was shot down by the Chinese army when they were playing bridge and how he escaped after killing one of the chinaman.It was a nice story,even though I had my doubts about it.This is the kind of story you would likely cook up when you are stoned.But he was vegetarian and old.These three old men were all dressed in white dhotis ,with white hair and white moustaches.One had one of those old black glasses.Stuck up in the timeframe of the 30's.Never changing.Ever white.They were travellers rounding up the country,they said.I doubted that too.Fuckin old frail men faking up fake stories.When we neared the station,as they were packing their little less luggages,they jokingly asked me if I mistrusted everyone.Though I gave them a sleepy laugh,it was quite creepy.They were travelling to Pune and offered me a lift.But I passed.

Today's track---- Old man (NeilYoung,again)

Flu by

Ok,so I look like such a psychopath with the mask.
What is this with the swine flu anyway? You got it on the news, on the roadside hoardings,on advertisements,in fuckin humans,in their brain.More than a bloody disease,its turned into a typical dinner conversation.And unfortunately the city I live in had to be....fuckin had to be,the hub of all this flu.The mothership of the virus.Yes,whattay to describe it.Like those aliens,which invade the earth.The mothership waits outside in space and it sends the warriors aliens to invade good ol' earth.Like the viruses.The viruses bloody go on creating havoc,every frikkin time.Bird flu,HIV,swine,mofo,sons of bitches.No wonder,the pigs are taking revenge on humans for abusing them and calling them names.Wonder whats gonna happen when donkeys start flu-ing.Especially,not to forget we call the dirtiest part of our body,the asshole.What happened to peace,anyway.If only humans could also mutate,maybe then we could like adapt and fuck up these tiny little creatures.and maybe show 'em who's the boss.
So,there,anyway.I look like a psychopath with the mask on.

Today's Track : My my,hey hey---- Neil Young

And I kept drawing the lines with my pencil.
Darkening the dots sometimes.
I picked my face up to see scribbles of black marked lines and discreet doodles strewn across the white notebook.
I looked further up.
The grumpy maths teacher was explaining a problem.Putting down numbers on the board,while the chalk made screechy sounds which gave chills down the spine.
She had a despicable smile and thick glasses,which gave a hypnotic effect everytime you stared into her eyes.
I looked down at my drawing again.
A mesmerising spiral turbinating into the middle end of the page,creating a helix with another.birds and creatures from lands unknown,filled up the rest of the page,creating a vortex effect as if they have locked horns with eternia.I scribbled a bit more,carving a shape out of the million little dots adorning my doodle.The shape somewhat represented an ugly hybrid creation of the Vitruvian man and the Phoenix,entagled within the clutches of this life and the world.An ink drop.A symmetrical folding blot of purple freedom looming across the page,like the lurking dark world.
From the corner of my eye,I caught the hypnotic attention.
She took the paper,crumpled it and threw it in the direction of the bin.
I was asked an answer.
I was also asked the reason for my insolence.
Mute.Silence.That defeaning silence.And fifty other pairs of eyes watching you.
"Get out of my class,maybe the air outside can punish you"
I opened my mouth to speak out and apologize.
"Keep quiet,just get out!!"
I walked to the crumpled paper near the door,clutched it firmly and walked out.
Outside the class,I opened the folds of the paper.The drawing remained unchanged.

That day,the paper defined obscurity.
I,defined a rebellion.

People around me fuckin' piss me off.Yes,they do.Man,I'm getting high on movies nowadays.
I remember sometime at this time,a year back,I changed.I changed almost everything about me.Something changed me the day I left Calcutta.Somethings do change,after all.Some people do change with them.
I changed the way I look at people.I changed the way I behave with them.Talk.Walk.Fake looks.Fake happiness.Miserable miserable me.I changed everything.I became dark green,blood red...and turned into a useless piece of shaite.
Never-fuckin-mind all that.
So,anyway,if you feel that you are in pain,maybe you should read this book.
If you feel miserable,watch this movie. Or this. And if you still do,you should drown yourself in some manhole.
Ohh,I've just completed a year in this corporate shaite-hole!Time flies.And so does my fuckin' age.
And yes,Check out my poll in case you are majorly bored.

This is what defines a madman!!!

I had heard this nursery rhyme about how boys liked lizard tails and girls like pink-dolls.Now everything's changed.Its just cars,bikes,sex,rock 'n roll,alcohol,drugs et al.Sometime back,I had asked this little girl about what she wanted to be when she grew up."I wanna be like daddy".Thats what she had replied then.
Her daddy,I believe,was a compulsive alcoholic,who used to beat up his wife when drunk,make love to her wildly when not,work as a manager in an MNC,used to blame every other empty beer bottle for his miseries and used to smoke marijuana to get rid of them.
What is actually striking is that I wake up every morning with the realization that my life is going nowhere and I might actually end up being "this daddy".Maybe things wouldnt be as bleak and dark as I think.I am turning a bit paranoid nowadays.As in like the proper madman you will see in the asylums.The one who dreams about stars turning into atom bombs and falling on the city.The one who thinks every other human is actually the reincarnation of Satan himself.The proper mad types.
I'll tellya.Everytime I go to office and the car in front of me takes a sharp turn,I pray for a car crash.Or the wanting to blow up an oil truck with a shotgun.Things causing mayhem,you know.So that people are no-more bothered about their designer suits,faded jeans,ipods,computers,expensive cars.Yes,and just be bothered about living.Living so as to enjoy every meal,every relationship,and the every moment of it.Its so materialistic now.I get these thoughts all the time.As if being in a different place and enjoying all the creative destruction around.
I was thinking of writing a fiction post for my blog.This is what I wrote.
"The rain was drizzling outside.The pitter-patter of the rain drops echoing through the hallway.She sat there reading the magazine about the latest designer styles Beyonce endorsed.The fire in the fireplace suddenly arose and turned into a Chinese fire dragon and gobbled her up....."
All I'm saying that people like me are dangerous men.You never know when people go into a mindless frenzy.It maybe someone you dont know or it may be someone who is very very close to you.After all,I'm still one who listens to Dylan and believes Notting Hill is the most romantic movie ever.
You can call me a psycho.But I'm just imaginative.
I'm Dr.Jekyll's Mr.Hyde.
I'm Jack's unnerving irate desire to turn into something evil.


PS:*Khub ekla laagche!!!!*

One man to second man: I'm thinking of giving up blogging.
Second man to the one man:But where will your readers go when they need to hear somebody whine about how unfair life is?

I took this one up from one of Hugh McLeod's Blog cartoons.
Ok.I am the 'one man'.I am Psycho The WonderKid.I do keep writing about my daily woes and how I constantly crib and whine about my life.I wonder sometimes if we write blogs to show others how miserable and pathetic we are.And of course take a definite pride in being so.And then pry into others and read personal life blogpost incidents.Maybe some even practice voyeurism.Its all a relative thing.But the entire idea of a blog,I believe, is about the freedom of it.I mean no one can really charge you of criticizing or plagiarism,being imaginative or even cryptomnesia.
Yes,I did start up blogging just for-the-heck-of-it.Actually,I started blogging because a certain someone had once asked me to take it up.No,wait.I started to let out the emotions and dark feelings.I really dont know why I took up this writinn blogs.I did want others to read about what life had taught me.And what it didnt.Mainly,it was the didnt part.I never really learn much.Its like one of those things you get to see on the Saturday late night shows.You get to learn about a new thing and forget it as soon as you .......forget it.Its like an ex-convict never learns about domestic beating.That kind of learning.
I was 30-minute interviewed by some of my senior collegues about how much I should learn and in turn,self-improve by changing habits and being innovative.Innovative,I am.But changing,thats not really happening.Yes,so self-improvement is what most of the people lay stress on.Self-improvement is not rocket-science or a brain-rape.Well,it is a kind of rape.But self-improvement is self-improvement.Thats what everyone does.Trying to get better.And better.And better.Till they eventually think that being better is not really worth it.So lets die.
Its what each one of us do.In our mundane jobs,at house,academics,sports,financially.
I never did understand this term.I mean why improve when that improvement is actually not an improvement.You take the bloody pains of getting to that next level.And when you reach that level,you feel thats you've been stupid about going to that level and that you should have targeted higher.And this goes on and on.
Its just a type of mental masturbation.You realize its futile,but no does really thinks that.Why cant we just stay the same and then let improvement ( or whatever!!) happen to us normally.Hehe! There I go whining again.
Its all a brain-rape sitatuion,aint it.Just like this post.