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Citylights

Hugo Cabret’s feet have covered a lot of urban landscape by now. Tired as he is, he has found a strange understanding with the city, both still and moving. He says and I quote, “It gives me great satisfaction to watch people go about their business. That is one of the reasons I love railway stations so much. It tells you so much about people without actually talking. Indian Urban is a beautiful playground for somebody like me. But being a night owl as I am, I spend most of my time with the city in the night. It’s just so much better. It’s like the world before the population explosion. Neon lights gracing the streets which are as dark as my soul. A solitary motorbike roars through the street, alternating between the Weekend Youth and the jobs that feed the family, and leaves a heavy silence behind.  And the best thing, the sky is not blue with clarity or grey with storm clouds. It’s a strange colour, a mixture of red and pink, a hue that reflects the bustling life of the city

Yearly Post II (2016)

1. How would you rate the year on 10?  Umm, like, a 4-5 maybe? 2. Was this year happier or sadder?  I think happier, because of the fact that I went ahead with everything with the hope of not having any regrets later on. 3. Best thing to happen in the year?  I always answer this as people, not things. I think Anusha, I like how she has quite a positive attitude, but it also pretty realistic about stuff. Conversations with her are pretty amazing! 4. The thing you dedicated your time the most?  Work. 5. Did you keep up your yearly resolutions?  "I never make any. I guess i should start now, considering how wayward life presently is." - this was my answer in 2013, I'll stick by this yet again. 6. Best musical discovery?  Indian Indie! Prateek Kuhad, Ankur Tiwari, such inspiring stories and music to surround myself with. 7. What you would've done more of?  Climbed more mountains. 8. What you would've done less of?  Could've been less wasted, but we

Of tranquil emotions and Sigur Ros

So, it's been a turbulent week/ month (so much for overhyped birthday months). Half of the month I have been seriously sick (still am, hence time for writing) which means not being able to work and missing out on some big opportunities. I've been cutting my hands too often while cutting up apples, the last one so gory and deep that it made me quite lightheaded with the blood loss. So bored am I with life at this point that going to get that cut dressed seems like an avoidable task, and hence avoided. My weight is acting like Brad Pitt from Benjamin Button and i'm again distinctly below 50. Pretty sad that's the only way i can compare anything with Brad Pitt (fml, right?). A woman i fancied says she's elsewhere with the heart. I could go on and on, but the bottomline here is that the birthday month has been pretty much forgetful and terrible, but hey, I found Matisyahu and Sigur Ros and any moment with good music is never a wasted moment. In all this time that i

Window thoughts

I sit by the day and laugh with this world, Telling her i’ll write her a haiku tonight, To sound fancy. A word-weaver, Just plucking words To make sense of this, To not feel like tangled earphones all the time, Craving an understanding  more than I could crave you, in believing that i have stories in me waiting to be lived. A hope that this circus is not what life is there is more, there is magic, A place where mundane is not a word, the love child of colours and mountains.. I sit by the night and laugh at this world.

Longing : A piece of bad poesy

Maybe this is what death is like- A person closes, With thoughts of warm beds and red roses Of rebirth and acts of cleansing He sees white lights with high hopes of deliverance. But he floats on, with longing Acceptance, but no deliverance. Maybe it is what love is like (or the love I know) - Years in longing, years in denial Then years in acceptance, But still longing. I've  never had qualms with accepting. I've  dealt with my denial and understood yours Understood life and its absurd ways But help me understand this- That why, why When I think of summers and white swings, I think of you When I think of winters and perfectly brewed tea, I think of you And at long night, when  I've  dealt with another day, When  I've  smiled the smiles and laughed the laughs Lived through summers and lived through winters (tried) And I sit back, staring at blank pages on my laptop screen, I think of you.

Simple truths - The deal

Here is the deal. And i can tell you, from lore or from luck,  If you end up doing something That you are not wholeheartedly into, That does not make you dwell within it with a childlike innocence And the same curiosity, Happiness will always be a couple of steps ahead Or a couple of steps behind But never together. Eluding you like love, unrequited and huge And shake you up with realization tremors At 3 in the morning And you can see the turn that life has taken, The morning coffee mug is the makeshift ashtray now.

Tiananmen and Today

It was a usual Sunday afternoon. Yes, I never know Sunday mornings. I'm a wasted would-be engineer who sleeps when the sun goes up and wakes up when it goes down. I've always had this habit of reading, no matter how wasted i was. Sunday was special, because it brought with it The Hindu Magazine. I really liked that piece, and I read something there that got me thinking and got me here, typing at 5 in the morning. About 25 years ago, Tiananmen happened. For the uninitiated, students of the Peking University in China went on a massive strike against the ruling Communist Party (CPC) in 1989, demanding reforms in the then current system. The rest is history. PLA was called in to clear the Tiananmen square and they cleared it. Hundreds and thousands of students died on a day that goes down as a red blot on humanity.                 But what amazed me, as I read through and researched about it more later, is that their legacy is dwindling. The politically correct students of t