Archive for July, 2006

I hate god. And I won’t use upper case. Just when I start to think life’s turning out to be good, he has to spoil it. Damn god you have to. And this way! I hate you.


My dog passed away yesterday. My Dollar. One of the five things on Orkut I said I can’t live without. And I can so not. Never. Never ever. I cannot imagine he is no more. I mean just like a five days back I left him well at home. Yah I know he was old, and not doing well. But no dog dies at eight years. Why him? And why me? And why my Mom, and my Dad? Why us damn you god?


I had this thing with me when He was like a month old. Came to us in a tiny package that would just about fit in my palm. And he soon was the love of my life. I remember coming back from school, and playing with him for hours right away. He would lick me. I would pat him. He would love it. I would love it. I used to feed him things from the kitchen not meant for a dog. There was not a thing we did not share. He would sleep with me in my bed while he was small enough for that. We used to get him to sleep by pampering him in our laps. And he would just sleep then and there. I was damn in 8th grade. And he died eight years later.


I hate you, you god.


And what an amazing dog was my Dollar! Oh he was huge in his prime. He was ferocious. He was the neighbour’s envy, and every second of these eight years, our pride. Oh he was not a canine. Not an animal. He could see through our eyes. He would know when I was angry. He would know when Mom was talking about him ..and he would come to her ..wagging his bushy tail, his strong frame ..would cuddle himself into Mom’s lap ..stay there for ever ..he would come to us and nudge if he was hungry ..or go and stand in the kitchen, and then look at us and the kitchen in succession. If we would deliberately not listen to him, he would make his characterstic puppy-like bow-wows. He would stand at the door if he had to be taken out. I would comb him everyday, every morning ..and he would do it when I asked him to turn around. Or sit if standing. Or lie down if sitting. Or roll on the floor if lying. Oh if he could speak. No but he did it, in his own way. He was intelligent, he would understand. Humans can’t do that sometimes.


And what great times we had together. I would just play with him all the time. We had fight. Almost always he on top of me. He was strong. He would try and scare me by his growls that went to the street. He would grind his teeth in my skin, but just enough not to hurt me. He would fetch the morning newspaper from the verandah. And he would not give it to us. He would run around the house. And expect you to chase him evey morning. Would get wild after a shower. And how much he loved to be bathed. He would fight for his towel. After every shower, we would have a tug-of-war with him for his towel. Whenever he would want to play while others were busy, he’ll just slip off with your slipper, one or both. He won’t care a dime if that choked him, but play he would. And he would run around the house, trying to hide behind the beds, or the sofas, or just try to half conceal himself under the dining table. And then you would have naturally had to fight him for your belongings. He was cute. And adorable. And loyal. And so much more.


I hate you god. How could you snatch Him from us. He was the only companion my Mom had when alone at home. No more. Dad would be comforted by all his licking and all whenever he had come back home from work. You left them all devastated. He was the third child of my folks. You have taken Him away. I detest your ways. Yah we damn loved this dog like anything. He was a part of our life. He so much was. What is home gonna be without Him? I mean I go home and there is no bark at the ring of the bell! Or nothing to pat on, or play with His thick hair cover, or just play with Him, or love Him, or pamper Him! What use would that chain be now? What do we do of the bowl my Dollar use to eat in? Or the comb that pleasured him every morning to sleep? Or the towel, the toothbrush, the shampoo, the protein supplement? What do I fucking do with it all, you formless/heartless/ruthless, debatably existing god? What the hell do I do without Him?


Oh I could not go home. Cannot see so much of a difference to a place in such a short time. Cannot see Mom crying all day. She misses Him the most. Did not see my Dad get even remotely close to tears in all these twenty two years of my existence. Mom says he is doing it, everytime standing on His grave. Always knew it would be when he goes. And it is. I am getting mad. Alone in this room. I have shed a thousand tears. It is killing me. I look at his pics. I touch them. I am still patting him. I can feel his hair. I can sense his lick. He is still strong.


And still my eyes are red. There is still a tear to be dropped. He deserved better. He deserved more life. With us. We wanted him. He wanted us. He was so much to me. I cannot even think of home without Him. I cannot go there. I’ll miss him. I did so much when I was way from home. It’s worse now. And never to get better. He’s gone, never to come back. There was not a dog like my Dollar. There never could be. He was invaluable. He’ll always be. I’ll always love him. He’ll be good. He always was. He was amazing. I was blessed to have Him. He rocked, bigtime. Animal are so not dumb. He knew us, he knew us all. He could read our minds, and our thoughts. Mom says He has it in His eyes while he was breathing his last. He was crying. So was Mom. So was Dad. They saw Him go away. I did not. I could not see him off. I’m damned! I so am. I could not tell him how much I loved Him. He just went away. Too soon. He closed His eyes, forever. Never to be seen again.


I’ll miss you Dollar. You were good. I loved you so much. I always will. You saw me growing up. I saw you. We shared our lives. I talked to you knowing perfectly well you don’t get a thing. But you would stay there, and listen to me intently. You were so much to me Dollar. And how much I treasured you.


I’ll miss you so much ..so-so much 😦





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so long, so grim the wait
if not for your trance, the tempting bait
the work up though, contravenes your resplendency
hot, humid, depressive, that’s so not hunky dory
sadistic you, everytime you’d leap anticipations
marooned us, left asunder with palpitations
but come you had to, and come you did
oh the showers, pleasance to have you indeed
gone, the parching heat, the unsettling dirt
and I have renewed interest in To Kill A Mockingbird
so what if I could no more sleep naked
leastwise its goodbye fetid sweat, you’ve always been hated
casting spells, strange romanticism the rains got
you could feel it, a mate, one you might have not
they call it the feel good factor
its all out there, even if rain lashes life helter skelter
consternated, browbeaten, think you lost your sheen
they said it so right, c’mon you, can always begin
the green of the trees, the smell of the earth
its finally come calling, the perfect moment for a rebirth

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normal chhe???

Friendship must easily be one of the most illustrious relationships we are inclined to base majority of our considerations on. Countless number of songs have been composed, paper/e-cards all try to explore the real meaning of friendship in their own sweet ways and finally a multitude of movies have friendship as the chief thematic element. However sovereignly charismatic all these media try and get, in some manner I have forever been at loggerheads with them when it comes to understanding the concept of friendship!

Or lets say its again on of those things like psychology whose interpretation need not be confined to few self-confessed intellectuals or institutions. In the sense that you really need nobody to apprise you of the correct semantic of friendship! It must be something you just know, a natural realisation. Something you have felt yourself. Something you can construe a meaning to by counting on your own experiences.

Anyway, the issue is how I disregard the common whimsical notion of friendship in the basics. The discord must invariably owe its existence to the eldritch fashion I have had friendships over the years.

“Someway I think I have never actually had a friend, in the real sense of it!”

Before you start to freak out at the weird monstrosity and the possibly disastrous implications of this statement, let me explain myself. I have never turned for solace or personal opinion to a soul in an hour of discomfiture. I have probably never perceived the call for human intervention in my domain space. Must have not ever felt the necessity to open myself to someone, to share my being, to just lie vulnerable as an unguarded voice response system with no password protection. Not that I’m never depressed, frustrated, disillusioned or anything. Ofcourse I do! I’m sure I positively undergo all the protocol venerable members of the set of emotional upheaval that hassle an average distressed human. Even then, I’m numb when it comes to thinking myself aloud to people! I unconsciously chose to remain tight-lipped in matters of the heart, or the mind, or the soul, or just anything concerning me!

Though it has atrociously been the other way round. All my life I’ve had people turning up to my shoulder for that comfort level that just soothes everything. Just makes it simple and easy for them. Not that I don’t enjoy doing that. I love being a friend, a paragon mentor, playing the wise man to flawlessness everytime!

And that is exactly why it makes me doubt my sanity when it comes to this subject! Is it abnormal for someone generally accepted as extremely societal, forever herding, networked to have enshrouded cramps when it comes to getting up and close to someone, familiarity notwithstanding! Can one be self-sufficient to the extent of being exceedingly shy without the witting cognition of the second person when it boils down to apportioning your insecurities, your worst anxieties, your not so toothsome fears!

Again, most people I’m close to would have in all probability never realised my modest reserve when its ‘me’ under consideration. Lets say the good part is I just don’t feel the need to have anyone so close to me that he/she should need to encroach the obliterated me! Perhaps I’m meant to be a patient listener and advisor when its two people in conversation, and one’s affairs catch the tips of our vociferous lingua. And don’t I savour this roleplaying!



PS: I happened to tune in to the song “Tere jaisa yaar kahan, kahan aisa yaarana …”. Hence you know the ancestry of yet another addition to the posting-under-impulse era! And yeah, kindly no hard feelings anybody! That’s just what I feel, and there is a good possibility that I’m wrong! Doesn’t change anything. Nothing!

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where was the poetry lost?
not that I was even close to Robert Frost!
but I always thought I could write
take away the words and the rhyme, what could possibly might?
oh I retrieve, it all started with love
yeah, the first love, and the charming dove!
did she take it all away?
did I lose it in her magical sway?
the one I owe this casual poet to
was she the one who orchestrated undo!
no it couldn’t be her
for me, she always had a prayer!
yet what arose of our communion
ended in a clueless pandemonium!
looks like “we” was not meant to be born
and as they say, life has to move on!
oh but the thought lingers
damn the love, it occasionally tinkers!
its just a heart, its small, its frail
feelings, hurt more than would a nail!
but that’s how life is
now a lost game, then a welcome fizz!
not that I don’t anymore care
I do see passion elsewhere
who says its hard to find, its just around
to bequeath love, capable souls abound!
still, the copiousness just wouldn’t suffice
once bitten, twice shy, oh that’s too much of an asking price!
but love, I have always found it
just that am afraid to commit!
only if destiny allow me a peep
since of the hundreds you meet, its a few you forever keep!
no more heartbreaks, don’t want another loss
its no delight terminating bonds, its crazy filthy moss!
often it is pleasurably fast
life, why does some of it so wearily last!
not all questions have answers
and perhaps those just form my worst fears!

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