beingdesh

Category: Friends

  • Left Behind Part 2

    Down there, next to the hot fish plate and shiny gravels, she just lies there, she belonged to someone stupid, someone ever so simple, disturbed, but happy at times, someone who always loved the smaller nuances of life, someone who cherished the company of people being around, someone had been changing recently, someone who had changed forever.

    Between those blue shiny covers, and the plastic bound ringlets, were 200 pages, around 180 off of them inked with someone’s thoughts. Someone knew that he is going to have a few missing ones in his life soon, and he was prepared for it, the blue notebook was his way out, of keeping all of them together with him forever.

    A a half eaten pack of jalebis & some other rotten food is on the same track & is close by the blue notebook, she is unphased by the million flies which surround the neighboring jalebis, & she is still buzzing with a million stories which was part of someone’s life till a few days back.

    Not long back was someone confused, now he had sort of realized what his mind was upto & he knew its going to be difficult as few missing ones dominated the blue notebook, much more than others, & some of them might permanently go missing, despite how hard he tried.

    But loosing them was his mistake maybe, why did he throw the blue notebook off and left her behind.

    Blue notebook feels sad for someone, & is happy that she was left behind, not long back when someone hardly used to sleep and used to be stressed out, he used to read her at times, and used to poke her sometimes pen, but then after going out of the place, someone never left the blue notebook alone. Blue notebook was always tired as someone never left her alone, and continuously browsed through the memories of the missing ones. He felt a jolt of happiness at times, but notebook mostly saw a sad face, which she wanted to run away from. She feels ok now on the track, even if she is in the middle of nowhere.

    As for someone, he has lost his track & hopes that he finds his direction again. Although he won’t mind being lost too.

    [Left Behind Part 1 was on something else… but I really like that post]

  • Being Chintu


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    Its strange. Its strange because I never wanted it this way. But after SP it sort of became quite prevalent, especially among few around me. Self discovery is some call it, LMA is something which we used to call it earlier (Leave Me Alone). Even I succumbed to it at times.

    I am too much a people people person, something which have been re-emphasized with my second entry in Mumbai, and it has just taken me a week to realize that I am in between a set of awesome people, some people who resonate with my areas of interest (56873 on last count)…

    So there is the lonely state, and the people people state, and I obviously prefer the latter, the kind I have been for most of my life.

    But this time around there is a Chintu state I have to deal with. Chintu is short for Chintan, the mode in which I enter nowadays, mostly when I am alone, or sometimes even between striking some awesome conversations something puts me into Chintu orbit. I just shut down and get into my chintu mood.

    I want to be just the people people kind again, Mumbai part-2 offers an opportunity to achieve that with a set of good nice people around & few old ones who are simply too awesome, but some things just keep moving me to being chintu.

    So what are the other options I have, maybe nothing as of now, but time will make things easier I believe. The only thing I know is I don’t want to be chintu, I just want to be like the old times again, pattu are you hearing?

  • Missing Ones…

    6th Oct 2010

    My birthday in 2 days, Hyderabad (maybe not) has been a nice good city, minus few of things which were an awesome part of my life few months back.

    Like loosing things in room and getting scolded for that, or looking at bargaining skills all through the day, or his awesome vishnu bhagwaan like sleeping position. All that taane which he gave me.

    Or the touch of her hands on my ears, or the sound of puchuk, or just watching her staring at that laptop, and getting disso with her.

    The burrpy giggles he used to throw up once in a while, sharing the asexual tag with me, and such a calming influence he always brought to me.

    Her awesome influence on me, her electrifying presence in placom room, the way she handled things and the way she cared for me through all the toughy times.

    His gossips, me and him discussing our chai-biscuit grihasthis :), his awesome pics which truly represent what a person is, removing all the fakeness from them and bringing out what they actually are in his signature style pics.

    His love stories, his hugs, the time we spent in DOCC, his presentations, and his voice, he caring for me and me cribbing about his GK, his love for all things non veg.

    Her awesome teeth flashing smile, her caring touch and exciting voice, her energy levels which always kept me going through those bad days, her dance moves which I would die for, we talking nonsense sometimes and so much of sense most of time, her gujju jeans , our discussion on small town stories and our so called ganwaar attitude when we sat together, me pulling her leg over she eating fish-head and being bong for the rest of her life.

    His love for all things sweet & chocolatey, his mood swings, awesome sense of knowing what I am going through, we forming the profanity expert gang, me cribbing about him never studying, him talking in sleep and running away from all thing academic, and our natural partnerships, and indori dicussions.

    His slender legs n wicked smile, his fingers rolling over cellphone with infinite speed, he combing his hair and looking like a nursery kid, him being the most mature persons around irrespective of opinions, his happiness in achieving what he always wanted, his sincerity like of which I never saw, his voice which was irritating but necessary for me to hear whenever I felt sad.

    His love for Old Monk and his weird discussions on FMCG, half of which I skipped listening, but they are so difficult to live without now, him shouting at times, but being caring all the time, his enjoyment plans which I was scared about, his relaxation plans which I loved to be part off. Me enjoying sometimes abusing him for weird reasons :), him cribbing about things but being so focused in his life, and for the infinite time we spent together.

    Her zillion attempts to declare me incompetent of ever patao-ing a girl, her multizillion attempts to prove herself as kamini, which always bombed as she was so simple, the simplest of them all, me feeling guilty about not knowing her better earlier, to being very lucky to know her so well, just sitting with her and get to listen to her, noticing her fake smiles which were easiest to comprehend and just told me what she thought, and her real smiles which made me more happy than anything else here and for the infinite time we spent together.

    Missing ones in my life, hope they don’t go missing forever.

  • The Times of Holi – Edition 1

    Sometime in 1996, somewhere in Chhattisgarh

    “Bhaiya kuch fugge (balloon) dena, arre yeh nahi, who paani waale”

    “Lo Beta, 5rs ke 100, rang wagera chahiye”

    “nahi bhaiya, who le liya, Thank you”

    Tomorrow is Holi time, this time it has fallen in between the exam, but we will play. Holi requires hell lot of preparations and we are all ready for that. I have my entire arsenal ready,

    • 2 packets of Gulaal– my favourite- Yellow and Violet, the weirdest of combos
    • 2 packs of water waala colour, 1 Solid (choti bottle), one regular in both red & green
    • This year I have given away with pichkari, no use, small streams of water are of no use, metal pichkaris as shown in Sholay are not good too. Me and my friends have come up with a set of plastic bottles, cut & twisted to form nice pichku devices with maximum impact
    • Fuggas which need to be made into chotu hand grenades filled with water color
    • A set of old clothes, the only festival in the world where o0ne wears that. Although on television nowadays they show people wearing Super White clothes on Holi I think it’s a stupid idea. Every year this was the day when we dispatched our worst clothes (mostly torn by EOD). Although one of my friends use to wear the same trouser every year for holi (something which I tried on later)

    I woke up early, and we did a small pooja at home. Post that I applied Parachute Nariyal Tel on my body & face and hair. A yucky feeling but its ok, as everyone says it will help in removing the colour later on. And then I move out of C-655 Kaveri Vihar.

    Apart from Patricks, there is no one else, so we put some gulaal on each other and moved to the row behind. This row has been amazing for my childhood, where I have played everything from Racetrip when electricity goes, to pitthul, kabbadi and obviously cricket. So we played holi here with everyone with our entire arsenal. All my grenades were transferred to a terrace and fired from there.

    Although as always there are two types of people everywhere, Good and Bad. We were obviously the good lot, and the bad ones use on Holi day are the ones who use Silver Paint, Grease, and play with even Gobar at times. Also they whistle and say bad stuff when didi log from our township go around on holi. All dirty people…

    After the first round we reload our arsenal and move towards Nucleus club where the whole of township assembles. Everything is arranged, from drums full of colour, pipes throwing up chilled water and water tankers supplying hell lot of it, holi style dhinchak music, jalebis and bhaijyas, my friends from all over the township, thandai (2 types, one for us, one for uncles with something called bhang in it which is like alcohol I heard). It ends with food packets.
    After playing for a long time, its back home and then the efforts to wash off the colours, and its bad if someone has put some paint or grease on you, bad people. Next day in school everyone would turn with pink cheeks and multicoloured hands. Holi also brings a lot of tiredness and a nice sleep on that day.

    Also the sad part is like Navratri it always either falls on sideline or in between an exam. Horrible timing for such an awesome festival, but I will always enjoy celebrating it.

    Never better than at Korba…

    This year I didn’t celebrate it after quite sometime, hoping this never happens again and keep on enjoying my favorite festival.

    Hope you have read the Navratri collection,

  • What Having Fun was… What it is?

    Comes from my conversations with few buddies… mix of their and my incidents 🙂

    As a Kid having a cold drink was fun. I still remember the time when my dad used to take me to Indian Coffee House, ordered a Special Dosa for me (with one Kaju, costed 14 Rs. then). He would order a filter coffee and watch me munch on the dosa. And then came the cold drink. Ahaa, that straw and that first sip was awesome. From Gold Spot to rarity of having coke, it was all fun. And yes The Green Boxed Frooti (Rs. 6) was awesome too.

    As a kid I loved having an ice cream. Didn’t we always dream of a chocobar or a vanilla cup. It was so awesome when I went out with my family to have that. Maybe once a month, maybe once in 2 months. But it was awesome. Arun Ice cream’s vanilla cups were the best 🙂

    As a kid I loved ice cream. The best thing was Nirula’s. Chocolate was simply the best. They used to give me one after I showed them my report card, and I also got coupon for my birthday 🙂

    Those were the days. Sipping Beer, or whisky at Banshankari’s famous hang-outs. Seshgiri or its not so far sister concern (codename: 3 gigolos :)). We got drunk, had chips from some HOT CHIPS, cold drinks from the same store, and then we talked…

    and talked

    and talked

    a movie used to play, a guy used to enter kop-bhavan, 2 guys were always coding something on a red laptop which was hotter than a frying pan, and we ended up playing karaoke with Golmaal or discussing Nihilism, science fiction & indian cinema.

    And there are moments which me, and a few others dont like that much, but it gives some sort of fun to others. Like, loud music, dark discos, late night drinking and talking sessions etc etc.

    But then like today, there are awesome mornings to cover them all up, from disc-asur to Idli-esh. We had the best breakfast one can ever have to start the day, filter coffee, 5-6 types of idlis, 4 types of dosas, podi with oil, benne (white butter).

    I know what kind of fun is best for me, and I will be back soon, as soon as this 2 year thing comes to an end.

  • कहानी २५ पैसे के बोरकुट की

    On all those cycle journeys back from school me, my namesake and few more friends spent most of our time chit-chatting, drinking water from my Milton bottle and taking numerous stops. Strangely each stop and its activity was the same for years.

    The school was some 15 mins from our home Krishna Vihar in morning (or even at 10 mins at times), but in afternoon it took us half hour or more. We had 3 stops, first in Yamuna Vihar (water drinking and discussion on girls and on latest Kaands in school stop), Kaveri Vihar Market (detour from our route, chedu’s pravachan, his our fascinations of kimberly drummond (different strokes) & ms. winslet of titanic and experiments with sanskrit :)), and finally the borkut stop :D…

    Borkut stop was our final frontier of freedom, 1Re coin helping us buy 4 of them, we were usually 3, so one for each and then carefully splitting the final pack in 3 parts. Or mixing borkut with aamkut and imlikut just at 25p :). Borkut is btw a pachak product made from Jungli Ber’s power along with chatpata masala (like hajmola). Aamkut is amde form raw mango and imlikut from dried tamarind.

    Those were the days were a rupee bought me that much pleasure. Jalebi in those days was Rs. 40 a kg and we were full in 5Rs.

    And yesterday whn I stpped out with another of my namesakes we spent 98 Rs for 2 pieces of Jalebi and 2 Pieces of Gulaabjaamun. Oh I forgot 5ml of Rabdi which accompanied it. Felt bad, but world has changed.

    And so have we…

  • खेल,इन्टरनेट और हम

    कुछ बाराह साल का था मैं, जब मैंने पहली बार भगवान् को देखा, वो नीले रंग का मुकुट पहेनता था अपने घुंघराले बालो के ऊपर, और एक भारी लकड़ी की गदा थी उसके पास, और अपने चमत्कार से वोह दुनिया के सबसे महान गेंदबाजों का नाश कर रहा था. उस साल था विश्व कप के उपलक्ष पर उसने दौड़ो की झड़ी लगा दी थी, और शेन वारने नमक गेंदबाज़ को तो उस महान ने नेस्तनाबूद ही कर दिया था.

    पर फिर वोह दिन भी आया, जब कलकत्ता की रणभूमि पर ९१/२ के स्कोर पर वोह आउट हुआ, और उसके बाद कलकत्ता की जनता ने उस देवता के अभाव मैं मैदान को भस्म कर दिया, लोग कहते है वोह शिवजी का दुःख था की उस नन्हे भगवान् के आउट होने पर उन्होंने उस दिन कलकत्ता पर आग बरसाई. पर उस रात मैं सो नहीं पाया, और उन आँखों मैं कही कुछ पानी की बूँदें ज़रूर थी.

    १९९६ का वोह साल और मायनों मैं भी ऐतिहासिक था, जब इन्टरनेट नामक तकनीक मेरी दुनिया मैं आई. एक घर्र्र घर्र करते संगणक के सामने बैठ कर आप दुनिया मैं कही भी चिट्ठी लिख सकते थे. हॉट मेल , याहू, और मेरे आज के नाम से जुडी एक पोर्टल काफी प्रसिद्ध हुए.

    पर मुझे क्या पता था, की कुछ १० सालो बाद, इन्टरनेट के जरिये मैं उन महान खेल के क्षणों को संभाल के रख पाऊंगा, जिनका इतिहास मैं कोई सानी नहीं, और जो मेरे दिल के बेहद करीब रहेंगे. इसी का प्रयास करते हुए हम कुछ मित्रो ने मिल कर “पेन द गेम” की स्थापना की. इसके पहले ही वर्ष मैं इसने indibloggies पुरस्कार समारोह मैं भारत के सबसे बेहतरीन खेल ब्लॉग होने का गौरव प्राप्त किया.

    इस वर्ष भी हम इस सम्मान के लिए नामांकित हुए है, कृपया इन संदेशो का पलान करे, और हमें विजयी बनाने मैं मदद करे..

    Our Blog Pen The Game(http://penthegame.blogspot.com/) has been nominated in indibloggies Best Sports blog category in Indibloggies Best Indian Blogs 2008…

    http://www.indibloggies.org/ibblog

    Please vote for us by visiting here,

    http://tr.im/bhagwaan

    Go to q.10, Sport Blog Category, choose PenTheGame option in sports blog category and press submit.

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    जय सचिन,
    आपका प्रिय

    देसी

  • A Night at Lodhivali


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    Where the hell is everyone? I can’t find anyone today. Alone in room, no Khaut, no Sagun & Saachi. All gayab!!!

    Living with all 3 has been awesome, I have had great time with them over the past month. The highlight have been the sex education classes we conduct once in a while for Sagun, super fun. Plus me, khaut, shotu have got access recently to this amazing library of Hindi Erotica which is helping us in our mission to get Sagun upto sexually acceptable standards prevailing in modern times.

    Also Shotu has created this alias Jenny73153, Yahoo ID which we all use for chatting like a female, awesome fun with people calling a number XXX73513 and then Jiri picking up and acting like an escort service agent. Well enough of this.

    I think I should look in Pure Bhaiya’s room, one of my best buds in the senior batch. Awesomely brained & very hard working, I have real fun with him at times and he is a nice happy shappy types fellow. Cares for me & Sajeev a lot. I miss Sajeev though, quite some time since I experienced his histrionics, his would be a tale of simple boy going not so simple thanks to Sex (not the verb, but a proper noun, yes someone in flesh & blood, actually too much of flesh).

    Oh even Pure Bhai is out, where the hell is everyone, being late from office doesn’t mean you miss the action. I think they should be in our township mess.

    Trying to bring a revolution in Speech Technology, back in those days it was considered biggest thing after Graham Bell’s own invention, Voice Recognition and that too for so many regional languages. Daily office work included recordings, creating fancy scripts with JeDi, gaming & life lessons from dhavesh & his wonderful encounters with Bhakti our ex Mtech student. On top of it you had a bell labs return white shirted, steamy idli eating leader & a budding love story of geeky-techie IITian with a lady in office (who looked slightly older than him). The boss was a delightful idli-popping guy with super crisp white shirts (always) with changing trouser colours, accompanied by a recent Swiss import.

    Also featuring were a few other teams BREWing mobile apps, Voice apps team back in college & a traffic signal team famous for doing mostly nothing. That team consisted of a brainy happy & a geeky chunnu mobile.

    Walking down towards the mess I found chunnu sinking into his super cool blue displayed handset. Mobiles are a new thing, I have one from Siemens & it’s a rare thing to caryy one. But chunnu thinks in a few days everyone would carry this, I don’t think more than 10% of population would ever have it. Just now in May TRAI removed the incoming charges & at max it would let them sell a few more. This is a fad like many others.

    I reach the mess and the first thing I see is a somewhat odd looking BPS sitting with Methi on the roadside. BPS is not regular today, with his long hair messed up and his fingers waving, he looks….drunk.

    Are they all DRUNK???

    BPS calls me as he is towards finishing his awesome lecture to Methi (lectured only first & last time in his life on this date) on the topic of “Ladki %$%$% hoti hai”, also walking at a close distance were a few females. Well I would leave them out of this story.

    So BPS told me how I should stay away from girls and never get into them (I have strictly followed him after that J) and I could smell it. For the first time in almost 2 years I saw one of my friend’s in a drunk avasthta & it felt a bit funny. Well being in a dry state had resulted in a very different engineering college where students got a high from installing/uninstalling Linux, downloading movies & playing all types of games.

    Off I moved to the TT table. On the stairs I met this bearded guy who said high, wonder what he does here, he always stands here, doesn’t look like the chaukidaar but his beard looks irritating. Few of us ended up having a discussion on the possibility of him being gay & maybe even hitting on one of our “HEALTHY” friend.

    TT table was witnessing an amazing game of TT between (I don’t know who), but the spectator/referee was Pappa, his wavy hair sitting on top of a very brainy brain. But that day the brain had gone on hadtaal as he waved his mundi from side to side & kept on doing it continuously for indefinite time. When I approached to have a conversation he just sshhhed me away.

    I met Sacchi in mess & he told me about the party thrown by Pure Bhai for some reason. It seems lot of everything had been drunk & everyone was waving around. And then I met khaut…

    He shouted & became normal just the next moment. He asked me to play carom. The small boy who served us food in mess came to us and Khaut all of a sudden slapped him… “Ladkiyo ko pahle khaana deta hai, humein nahi “

    Small boy stunned & I was in a don’t know what to do state. So I just walked away from there. Later that night I had the scary task of walking back Khaut to our room.

    As I prepared my bed I thought, well I will never touch alcohol.

    Omitted a few incidents, changed a few names, all for fun. By the way I broke the pledge sometime in the summer of 2005, had a White Mischief with Shotu & co. at Mt. Abu, then waited till Bangalore & CAT incidents to let hell break loose. But this was my first true interaction with the concept of getting drunk. All thanks to Lodhivali J

  • मदन – कहानी एक Pub की

    ***Starring ***Chipu
    ( I have decided to write a book on the life and times of this guy)
    Rattu
    Bhussu

    ***And***

    Dandit
    Mimpy
    Bho-Bho-ti
    Pat-rick
    Nippu

    ***Friendly Appearance***

    KAddu
    Piddu
    Anit Pacob Jillpose
    Khakre

    ***Scene-1 ***

    Somewhere on quite nice crowded street on Bangalore (crowd is implicit in Bangalore), ambling around are three stupid looking individuals, quite visibly mistaking the road as a Bird Sanctuary. ( For people in Bangalore I am referring the set of perpendicular roads connecting from Jyoti Nivas College-Koramangala 4th Block side to Forum-100ft road connection).

    But enough of birds, these guys have never got them, one of them although carries the distinction of breaking eggs :), lot of them :D. Who’s interested, Chipu, Rattu and Bhussu just want some beer, and they will get it at Madan Pub. Small shabby looking place where evil ideas thrive, men with rotten faces, dirty lungis and unbrushed moustaches laugh like Ashok Vatika Sita Kidnappers, light is dim, TV always throws a classic Rajkumar Classic (the same one always where he plays a Rajkumar) and waiters serve with uncut nails filled with smudge..yuk

    But beer is cheap and thats Ok, for us 🙂

    This place was discovered by Fake Kannada speaking Bho-Bho-ti, patronised by the wide assed king of bangalore, Pat-Rick & made popular by rattu. Anit Pacob Jillpose lived in Pune but he dreamt of going to madan, and Khakre cracked up as we muttered him stories of Madan.

    Madan Rocks, no… Madan Mahaan hai 🙂

    In an area full of beautiful chiks and chikkis, this is the place, where Men can be Men, and not those spiked hairs, loose jeans, jockey showing lean kids, they can hold their drink with pride and drink and bask in the glory of the super dim lights which make you look, evil.

    I dont remember whether Mimpy visited it, but this is a place liked by 3 of us who came here tonight, me, Bhussu, Chipu. Bhussu loves drinking, and following it up with Hyderabadi Biryani, Drinking loves Chipu, and will always love him. As for me, I can walk downstairs to pick up Mysore Pak off Adayar anand bhavan 🙂

    But as Mimpy says, yeh ek Mahaan jagah hai, so ashtumaadi

    Kahani starts when Nippu comes to Bangalore… till then wait maadi

  • life with an addict…

    He was happy, used to talk while he slept, but apart from them, quite Ok. Used to loose apetite once in a while, but apart form that, Ok. He thought smoking is bad, drinking is bad too. But he was addicted. And that too to…

    Well I entered the room that day, and he suddenly had hidden it. He used to hide it in drawers, almirah, below the bed in a suitcase. I knew every spot, but how could he, I still didn’t believe it.

    I got a hint, that day at Bandra, near carter road CCD, we saw a bunch of young kids smoking it, and it smelled like, you know what. He had won a bet and asked me for something. I paid 150 bucks for it.

    It was Chocolate, and in the room were being gobbled up tonnes of Lindt, Toblerones, Cadbury, Ferreros and what not. I knew it. He was an addict.

    Addicted to chocolates.

    I just pray he returns to the original addiction, unAdulterated. The new one doesn’t suit him. It suits me 🙂