I do not write to intend this as a novel [or a story for that matter]… This was how my story was supposed to begin. Before anything else, let me be very clear that in this blog post, all forms of interrogative, inquisitive comments are strictly proscribed by the author [which is none other than me]. Colloquially, no How-What-Where-Why-Who et al.  Bromidic as it may sound, but all this which is about to follow in italics is purely a work of authors abjectly rich imagination. Ergo, even the slightest resemblance with any person living/dead is [un]fortunately coincidental.

So without any further delay, let’s get going with it.

I do not write to intend this as a novel, but sometimes the need to communicate gets all transcending and utterly primordial. And this [almost] carnal desire to communicate is the raison d’atre for this present fable. I’ll begin from the beginning.

The entire engineering fraternity [The reader is hereby pleaded to take note of the word ‘fraternity’ with full heed. The author has used this with utmost deliberation, carefully shunning ‘sorority’ for reasons which will get obvious as he reaches towards the fag end of this sentence.] is notorious for it’s obsession with fairer sex – and sex, to be more specific- mostly because of their [it’s] sheer paucity in this profession. Sequestering all the chronic contentions, allow me to take you all to a point which is important here without giving you -and me- the sweetly indulging and obviously titillating luxury of digression.

I never lost my virginity. I knew exactly what I did with it. And this is an unabashed [albeit, an honest and carefully non-vulgar] account of what I did.

The first time I had a girlfriend, I didn’t even touch her. We barely met. The fling was primarily on phone. I thought lust is for animals. Love is something which is pure. And hence, it can’t be intermingled with love. How insanely stupid must I’ve been back then; and what a bitch must she have been to dump me for someone else!

The world hadn’t seen much sunlight before I was into another [even more] serious relationship [if possible!]. I was fast this time. We held hands! And that was pretty much it. But before things got really serious, we kinda broke up. That, or we were on an indefinite break. Whatever! Implies the same. I didn’t even try for anything before I was into my third super-serious relationship. The only difference being that I was much more relaxed and nonchalant about all the ‘relationship’ stuff this time. I was kinda ‘been-there-done-situation’. Irrelevant, perhaps. Boisterous, definitely. Also, I moved to the ‘next’ level too. But as it turned out to be, the girl was too ethical. ‘No ding-dong before you sing a song’. What the fuck! I can’t marry at 21! I mean I legally can, but pragmatically I won’t. And this gave me my smoothest break-up ever.

By this time, I was done with girls. Not forever, but yes, for the time being. I strived to strengthen my male bonding [in an absolutely non-gay way]. I paid attention to academics. Tried improving my grades, with little or no success in the long run. That was a period of self-abnegation, for no fucking good reason. If you subtract the word ‘good’ from the last sentence, I think it’d have described my situation more aptly. To put it most simply, I was just not being me. This was unacceptable. And un-natural. I knew I had to revert back to my old ways. Sooner or later. And sooner, I did. I was back doing what I do best. Well, definitely it wasn’t ‘the best’ coz had it been that, I wouldn’t have been…

Now I’m the kind of guy who learns from his mistakes, as well as from other’s mistakes. And I never repeat the same mistake. I really take utmost care so as it won’t get repeated. But the problem with me is that I get so engrossed in avoiding the previous one that I just am not able to foresee an unprecedented one coming. To sum it up, I never repeat a previous mistake; I always do a brand new one. Why did I tell all this will be apparent in a matter of few lines.

I was careful enough not to have my fourth girl as one of the previous three. Now I honestly don’t know how many species of human females exist on this planet at any given point of time. I think that number will be highly debatable. Anyway, that’s not what I’m here for. All I knew by now was those previous three were not of my type. Therefore, this one should be of completely different type altogether. Fair Enough. I started praying for a nymphomaniac in morning/evening prayer. Oh, before that, I started having morning/evening prayers. And as Paolo Coelho says, if you really desire for something, the entire universe conspires for you to get it. And get her, I did. But then, as the saying goes ‘Be Careful for what you wish, coz you might just get it all, and then some you don’t want’; and I wished for too much. I realized it pretty soon. But not soon enough to mend myself. Redemption was right there, but the correct path is not easy and sins are always tempting. Taking the higher moral and literal ground  -like all great authors do- our author here too won’t get into the gory details of the act. Suffice is to say that on a very hot Sunday afternoon, in an air-conditioned room, with no electricity, amidst seas of sweat, I lost something to gain everything.

Right then, I had what alcoholics call as ‘moment of clarity’. And in that moment, what ranged in my head was this. ‘Women are stupid. But if women weren’t stupid, the world won’t go round’.

One of the novelties of being human beings is that we can almost never do what we set out to do.

And that was how the story was supposed to end. It didn’t make much sense to me though. It might make sense to some of you. There is also a tini-tiny problem. What I feel is that this [the fiction] might be offensive to some feminist kinda people. Now I don’t have particularly anything against them, but then I’m also not too fond of them. So in case you’re one of them, I do apologize sincerely.

I don’t remember any movie in a long time whose pre-release fuss was so much. Honestly speaking, I get a little excited and little more curious with all this kind of stuff. Ever since I saw the trailor of Kaminey in march [when I was watching Pink Panther-2. No! I don't want any comments on this, coz this post isn't about that] for the first time, I knew I’ll be seeing it as soon as it gets released. My only tiny apprehension was regarding Shahid Kapoor. Just that, he really can’t act. But I convinced myself, coz the movie bore the tag of Vishal Bhardwaj. That was March.

Aah! The notorious bollywood strike was here. April. May. June. July saw the unveiling of the music of  Kaminey. And also, the very famous Dhan Te Nan. So far so good. Then there were the tracks Pehli baar mohabbat ki hai and Raat ke dhai baje. Things were looking better. We’ll get to see an intelligent movie; probably the first one after DevD.

Two days before the release of the movie, I read this review. Things haven’t been so good ever! I was super excited. I couldn’t wait for it’s release. I’ve lost count on the number of attempts I made to book the tickets. Online, Offline. All Failed! Because, my ATM Debit Card is neither Visa or Mastercard. But I was content. I was watching it on saturday. Not too shabby for me. And I already had plans to watch it again sometime in the coming week. Yaayye!

Saturday, 15th of August. This was the first time I was not watching a movie in PVR in Delhi, attributed to apparent unavailability of tickets. Duhh! We were at 3Cs in Lajpat Nagar. The movie hall was good. The company which I had was even better.

Cut to the movie. The movie [almost] began with a very sensual lip-locking between Shahid and Priyanka. Very realistic! Very passionate. Instantaneous turn-on. With respect to the movie, ofcourse. Half an hour into the movie, there was just this one chasing sequence which got me to the edge of the seat. And I wanted to be on the edge for the rest of the movie too. I was glad! Finally, the movie is really ’starting’. Little did I know that it’d be last time I’ll be on the edge in a 3 hour long ordeal. Well, ‘ordeal’ would be a little too harsh word to use. It was a nice movie. When I say ‘nice’, all I mean is that it wasn’t bad. Definitely not good. The disappointment which I felt after the movie was over was not because of Vishal Bhardwaj [or even Shahid Kapoor!], it was because of the reviews and the hype.

The movie had nothing which the critics claimed it did. You can compare Vishal Bhardwaj to Quentin Tarantino in a very broad sense of word. But you just can’t compare Pulp Fiction with Kaminey. So Not done, dear reviewers! I’ll never understand why Guddu stammered, or why Charlie lisped, or why Shahid wasn’t made to dance [the only thing which he is really good at]; probably not till I am alive and in my right senses. And I’m very sorry Priyanka, I didn’t fall in love with Sweety -like we did to Geet in Jab We Met- simply because she was hardly there in the movie. Apart from the hand-held camera work, there was nothing extra-ordinarily brilliant about the movie. It is so not the most well edited movies of recent times. Let’s not talk about DevD, but even Gulal was much better edited. Vishal Bhardwaj ji, I think you had too-much-to handle in one go. Go Charlie Go was good. But not Charlie, or Guddu, or Sweety! Gulzar sir did justice, and so did the music director in Vishal Bhardwaj. But that was pretty much it.

This review, is more like a review of reviewers rather than of the movie per se. I think I’ve lost faith in you people. May be, me and my friends should start our own reviewing service.

I happened to visit the place where I lived from 1989 to 1995. It was a chance encounter, the visit I mean. I didn’t plan it. I was passing by that lane, and almost impulsively, I took a left turn instead of going straight.

I don’t know about other people, but I can recall my childhood pretty vividly. The labyrinthine lanes seemed so pregnant with past. So much so that it almost gave me goose bumps and involuntarily, I started returning. I had to coerce myself not to. The lanes had a proper road with tar and all [as opposed to the bricks which they used to have previously]. They were so not the same as they used to be, and yet I had a striking familiarity with them. It also reminded me of all of the childhood friends which I had. I lost touch with them as soon as I left that place, and I’ve no idea of even their physical appearance now. I don’t think I’d be able to recognize them with their face anymore. Just a moment, I think I should name them all here. Who knows one of them might see this and get in touch. The names are [as much chronological as possible]- Mohit, Golu, Ekta, Ashu, Nishu, Chhotu, Betu, Prateek, Little, Mini, Garima. This is pretty much it. I really don’t know their proper names, so pardon me for that. The dusty ‘park’ where we used to ‘play’ now has a 4 storey house.

Then I saw the home where I used to live when I didn’t go to school. Astonishingly, it was still the very same! Superficially, nothing had changed there. That was some sight. Plastic Ball Cricket, the first day at school, my thumb nail getting squished, getting drenched in rain, bathing in sun light during winters, the doordarshan, death of Rajiv Gandhi.. these are some of the things which I remember with utmost clarity. My reading habit started from the newspaper report of assassination of Rajiv Gandhi. It was such sensational news of its time that I thought, damn.. only if I could read and understand everything written on that boring and awkwardly ‘huge’ newspaper. [No, the newspapers didn’t use to be any bigger than they’re now, but I was too small for them ].

Our landlord, Gupta ji [who was almost a grandfather figure to me] is no more. The name plate was engraved with the dreaded letters LATE. I think I felt a lump in throat for no good reason.

I never knew I’d be so connected with my past, but as it turns out.. Apparently, I am. And much later, I realized that this what I’ve been wanting to do for quite sometime now. Sometimes, living in past is not such a bad idea at all.

Alrite. So this tag wasn’t as much fun as I fancied it would be. On the contrary, it was a little embarrassing at times; which -frankly- made me a little uncomfortable.But still, I did it coz I haven’t done anything here in a long time. Do it at your own risk.

By the way, take a moment and think about the evolution of phones. From Alexander Graham Bell to N97s, iPhones, Blackberrys n ol, they’ve come a long way. Haven’t they? No wonder why I keep wondering then Next is What?

1. What Color Is Your Phone?
Black

2. Who’s The First Person Who Comes Up Under The Letter P?
Papa

3. Who’s The Last Person You Called?
Neetole

4. Who Was Your Last Missed Call From?
Neetole [She called me, but I couldn’t pick up the phone then, so obviously I had to call her back.]

5. Who’s The 2nd Person Who Comes Up Under D?
Deep Mala Bharti.

6. Who’s Speed Dial 2?
None! I’ve never used this feature of my phone.

7. Who’s The 3rd Person Who Comes Up Under J?
Jatin Kalson.

8. Who Was Your Last Received Call From?
Some unknown number. But I know who it was.

9. Who’s Speed Dial Number 4?
Refer #6.

10. What Is Your Background?
Wallpaper which says- Parental Advisory. Explicit Content.

11. How Many Text Messages Are Currently In Your Inbox?
Oh Come On! Do they really want me to count them? There must be around 100. But it’s dynamic. I keep on deleting text messages frequently.

12. Who’s Speed Dial 1?
Refer #1.

13. What’s The 5th Message Say In Your Inbox? From?
Sorry. That couldn’t be revealed here. The user demands privacy.

14. Who’s The 1st Person Who Comes Up Under B?
B. Mama.

15. Who Was Your Last Text Message From?
Neetole. No one sends me SMSs anymore L

16. Name Every Person You Have Text Messages From
The list won’t be too long. But again, The user demands privacy.

17. Who Is The 2nd Person Under A?
Aditya Deorha.

18. Who’s The 9th Person On Your Missed Call from?
Kritika.

19. What Does The 6th Message In Your Outbox Say? To Who?
I don’t save messages in Outbox.

20. Who Is The First Name In Your Phonebook?
Abhineet Bhandari.

21. Who Is The Last Name In Your Phonebook
Vivek.

22. Do You Have A Camera Phone?
Hell Yeah! J

23. Who Is The Last Person Under G?
Gopal Lal.

24. What Does The Last Text Message Say In Your Inbox? From?
Sorry, Again.

25. Who Is The Second Person Under K?
Kanika.

26. What Is Your Ringtone?
This is the new shit- Marilyn Manson. [Simply because it’s loud ]

Rain Rain!

When will you come again?

Come, and wash away this pain;

Which has been making us all SO insane.

Let us not complain,

About NO Rain.

Now show us some brain,

And don’t be more inane.

We don’t want you to disdain.

Just don’t be the cause of all our bane,

All we want from you is to be a little more sane.

Please be our exuberant mundane.

O Mighty Rain!