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.

Ok,Chumma is out.Officially thrown out by the society people and the watchman,who scoffed at our car.The bitch had it calling for,....went on a rampage with the garbage bins.I liked it though.Especially when our 'pet pup' turned hostile and havoc'ed with the old man's house.After all the milk and the beer it drank,I suddenly miss Chumma .

Everything's been so usual.So normal enough,to freak me out. Sometimes accolades and praise is fun and famous.But then it sorta gets on the nerves.I'm tired of seeing the dumb faces of my office colleagues everyday.I'm tired,done and out.I think of one word nowadays.Escape.To a different city,place or planet maybe.Trip.To somewhere out of reach.Meet.Some people and stories of the world.I wonder if all this depression,failure,pain is bought.But so is the funk we are living under.
We all have dreams.At least,speaking for myself.Then we have inspirational stories,we have those special people,apprehensive-ness,of course.But all that separates is just putting the foot beyond the line of decision and risk.Drive,is what I call it.Dreams,Ive had enough.I just lack the fuckin drive.

So some of these days have been good.As in proper windy winter days.Like waking up early,eating breakfast,watching TV, fucken office,drinking coffee,warm snuggly bed,drinking beer.Im just glad its still pretty chilly cold here in Pune. Maybe,I'm also glad cuz Burger King is so better than MacDonalds.Its wishful thinking to be happy,but what the heck......And mistakes,I'm happy about them,but the blues still exist.
Sometimes I just wish I could just lie on the lawn all day long and think about nothing.
But there is too much going on.

and I need more crayons to just colour it all up..........
I need some booze.I need to turn into a song or a sketch.I need to turn into some random vegetable and be sold off.
I suddenly miss Calcutta and the smell of Park Street and JU.I miss Chumma,as well!!


PS: I am the only Debanuj in Facebook( yaaaay!!)
And there are 25 other Debanuj's in orkut,who either look gay or with display pictures of Shah Rukh Khan.Its a sad fuckin world!

In Goa.
I spent my New Year moment pissing away all the booze in some makeshift toilet in an awesome shack party.
This comes a bit late,but Happy New Year,folks.
Cheers!