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September 3rd, 2017

I know belief is an imperative crutch to survive in a culture so skewed towards the superfluous; yet, I fail to understand how sensible people bite into this time and time again. Only shows the power of brainwashing stands stronger than logic. Was reading how gurus are extraordinary individuals who cast doubt upon current psychiatric distinctions between sanity and madness. A guru convinces others that he knows – a persuasive capacity, which can bring illumination, but may prove to be a disaster too.

It is not rallying for rivers that we must endorse, but we must rally to save our minds from these dramatists.

Be it rivers, or the exhaustion of nearly everything natural in the environment, we humans are at fault. Until we pledge to correct ourselves in doing the right things daily, from the grass roots, supporting causes that give mileage to people who know how to dupe you will not help make the world a better place.

The current culture is occupied in merely ‘acquiring’ and in the pursuit of that people find themselves empty. And when there is a famine, even a single drop of water, quite like the mirage, becomes the saving grace, and it is because of this very vulnerability that these Guru’s thrive: by playing on your emotions. And this vulnerability originates because you are poorly informed, and you are poorly informed because you lack the will to improve your knowledge, and the crux of improving your knowledge is to be in the company of books and those who have a balanced, enlightened mind.

Help save the world by doing right even when nobody is watching. That is helping mankind.

(Wrote this after reading and article in the media that threw light on how a God man from the South of India had chosen a 2.5 Crore (ex-showroom) Mercedes Benz G63 AMG for his mission to save rivers. A lot of people barraged me with malice that it was not something he chose but was given to him by the car company. My only argument was – someone might give us a chalice of poison all right; point is do we drink it?)

August 15th, 2017


John and I had known each other since the last twenty years. We had spent a fair amount of time together in our infancy, yet it would not be inappropriate to say there was always this wall between us. It was as if he was consciously drawing this line and making certain that nobody crossed it.

In college I used to see him pick different girls every weekend from stores from upscale fashion brands. While I did not think of getting laid as anything amoral, dating a woman and fucking her was allowed with dignity in my scheme of things, but to use women merely as objects of sex, week after week, like animals, was not. Then again that was his personal life, and it was none of my business, but yes, it was one reason I began to maintain a distance from him.

Incredibly fastidious about his health, John and I inadvertently ran into each other as we worked out at the Gold’s Gym in Richmond Town. Having been there for two years, I migrated to Fitness First, and then to Oakwood. With distance not in our favour, the meetings between John and I dwindled, and I was thrilled to see him one day at Oakwood. He had, I learnt from him, taken over his flourishing business empire from his father and was now responsible for its improved glory. In time I also noticed that he had slowed down in the pursuit of women, and that gave me the ease of retiring with him at a café for our post-workout fill. John would get himself an omelette, and I would get myself a coffee, which was pretty much our standard order. I discerned that with the passage of the years, he seemed the same ‘nice enough chap’ but somewhere I felt that he was not being as open and honest as one ought to be in a friendship. The wall that I had encountered years ago was still prevalent.

One day the manager asked me why I hung about with John. “Did something happen?” I asked the manager. “Sir, this is between us, ok,” said the manager in his accent laden with a heavy south Karnataka intonation, “he comes and orders omelette daily.” I nodded, as I was aware that that was his staple at the café. “Many time he eat the omelette, ok, and then he say less salt in it and say he won’t pay, sir.” I was listening. “You can say salt is less when you eat the first bite, no, sir? Why eat and then say I will not pay.” I smiled in concurrence. “One time it is happening, it is fine, sir, but he does like this regularly, sir.” I patted his shoulders and said how surprised I was that people could behave in such an unbecoming manner. As I was chitchatting with the manager, John arrived. “I had a great chest and triceps workout, bro,” he said and ordered a coffee with his omelette. I was midway my coffee when his food was served. He took a sip of the coffee and broke into a revolting expression, calling out for the waiter in a huff. Upon hearing him shriek, Thomas, the headwaiter, rushed up to us. “What’s this, huh?” asked John pointing to the cup of coffee, “this tastes like shit.” Thomas made an apology and reached out for the cup telling him at the same time that he would fetch him another cup. “How do I know you won’t heat the same one for me?” asked John most artlessly, “Or even spit in it?” he added. I watched the drama unfolding before me quietly. “Go and get me a new one while this remains here on the table,” he emphasised. Thomas made known that the manger would like to see what was wrong before he could allow for a replacement to be prepared and therefore he be allowed to take the cup back with him to the kitchen. No sooner had those words been uttered by Thomas, John stood up furiously and waved for the manager who appeared before us. He gave me a knowing glance. This was the first time that I was witness to the animal that lurked beneath the coating of the man who presented himself in the kindest possible way to the world. I was furthermore ashamed to be sharing the table with such a stuffed shirt. To employ improper behaviour on those who are not in a position to retort is unpardonable, and after that day I chose not go out with John anymore.

I was bored stiff of working out at Oakwood for six years, and I joined the club at The Ritz Carlton. The atmosphere at the Ritz was wonderfulit was a premier club after all, but what I missed was my time with my old group of friends, and even though I had a year more at the Ritz, I renewed my membership at Oakwood. As luck would have it, I met John when I was on my way to pay up for my membership at Oakwood. He accompanied me to the gym. My bladder was bursting, and I excused myself as I dashed away to the urinals. Upon my return I noticed John leaving the front office desk. He gave me a high-five and proceeded to the change area. When I took out my credit card, the lady at the front desk informed me that John had snuck in a few seconds ago and was insisting that the front office staff speak to the general manager and get him a discount for introducing me as a member at Oakwood. I could not contain my laughter when I heard that because I was a member of Oakwood long before John had joined the club. As the lady was readying to swipe my card, I thought to myself that John drove a Ferrari, a Lamborghini and a Porsche – not that automobiles are an indication of one’s refinement, but yes, they are an indication of one’s wealth, and when a man of that stature was pressing for a discount for something he was not even responsible for, I was appalled. Coming to think of it, he is absolutely justified in wanting to look for benefits, everyone does, just that one should know with whom, and how one should go about it. I was yet dissolved in my thoughts when the lady handed me my credit card and said in a low tone, “Sir, you’ve been a member of this club for the last six years, and he has been a member since two years.”
“That’s right.”
“He’s such a big man, sir, and see how he was asking for a discount.”
I merely grinned.
“You know how much discount he will get, sir?”
“I am afraid not.”
“Only 10%.”
“I see.”
“And for that little amount he is dying.”
I whickered.
“That is so cheap,” she said breaking into a laugh herself, “so cheap, sir.”
I wished her a great day, thanked her for helping me with the formalities and left for my workout.


August 11th, 2017



“What’s it?” asked a friend seeing me smiling when everyone else was busy glued to their smartphone screens. I smiled and thought it best to let it pass.
“You aren’t getting away this easily,” she said quite insistently.
“All right,” I said with a wide smile, “a friend who had been recently engaged was talking about how he felt this mixed feeling of not knowing what he was feeling,” I paused and took a sip of the wine, “he was in love with another woman and was getting married to someone else at the behest of his family.”
“What an arse!”
I chuckled, “You could say that because the man was worth a hell lot in his personal capacity, and yet he was leaving his girlfriend of eight years simply because his parents had said that if he had married her then they would strip him off their entire wealth.”
“What a loser!”
I smiled, “In a jolly mood that night, another friend and I made digs at our friend asking him to show us his engagement ring. When he did, I pointed to his groin and said that the circle round his finger was only symbolic, though marriage was a ring that a woman clamps around the appendage that hangs between our legs.”
“Ouch!”
“My friend’s face had scrunched up with anger as he went in his crisp and stern drawl – Bro, I really don’t appreciate you making fun of my dick.”
“You must be kidding me!”  
I shook my head. “He took such offence to our banter that night four years ago that he stopped meeting our bunch of buddies since.”
“Some dicks,” she said shaking her head with hilarity asking me if I wanted some more wine.  


August 9th, 2017



(Overheard at the Oakwood gym lobby while I was on the way to my workout.) 

She plonked on the sofa next to my friend Zainn. “You think I’m crazy?” she asked with a tinge of ebullience. My friend laughed with mischievousness, “Not just you,” he said most nonchalantly, ‘women in general are crazy.” She rolled her eyes, “One slap you’ll get.” My friend grinned widely, “Why? For speaking the truth!”


August 2nd, 2017


How hard is it for knuckleheads to discern that it is NOT from your car, your clothes or your social standing based on the strength of your bank balance that you attain greatness or command respect. That it is YOUR behaviour, your kindness, love, being there for people despite the fact that you can gain or get nothing from them that differentiates you from the flock.


I wish people refrain from biting into the double standards of society that is more anchored on the superficial. I wish people would rise above the superfluous and live a life of meaning.


July 22nd, 2017


Every now and then someone famous takes their own life, and such situations leave the public baffled and in a state of disbelief.

Quite honestly I have no empathy or sympathy for people who take their own lives when they could have reached out and sorted whatever was consuming them.

Also, one thing is clear – money, power and connections aren’t the answer to life’s afflictions or pleasures. Despite having it all these people live utterly empty lives.

For those who aspire to follow in their footsteps, well, the lesson is simple; do not run after fame and vanity. It is like a cracker that gives you joy for some seconds and then drops to the ground, charred.


Be happy with what you have, and so long as you can have a hearty laugh with the people that matter, know that that is all that matters.


March 19th, 2017

Most of you don’t know me. I mean you know me, but you don’t really know me. You only think you know me. But there are many who know me, and they know me well. If you knew me, you’ll know I’m always fine. I have my ups and downs, but I am generally fine, and that is why the me that I know, likes the me that I am.


March 15th, 2017

Negativity affects our health adversely, while positivity helps open up our arteries and adds to our life that much more meaning. 


March 14th, 2017

At the end of the day, I felt what matters is how true we are being to ourselves. It does not matter what the world thinks of you. People will talk. That is their job. So long as you can look yourself into your eyes and see no quivering, you can say bollocks to the world and show them your middle finger.


March 13th, 2017

I was asked today what I think of the current political climate. Politics is a game of chess, and since I do no play chess I am not aware of who is doing what to further their game. Yes, this is what I know – I have to love everyone alike, even if they do not hold the same feelings for me. That is what I think of the current political climate.



March 12th, 2017


One thing I have observed over the years is that even the confidants you trust the most roughly tell two other people a secret that they have been told. Moral: trust people, that is what we all do, but when it comes to the things that you think can land you in an embarrassing or a tricky situation, the safest recourse is to write what you feel. Make paper your friend. It may sound a bit unreal to the current generation that is so heavily dependent on digital devises, but putting pen to paper makes you feel light. It helps you get where you intend to get in your head, and there is no fear of Chinese whispers too. 



March 11th, 2017



While I was in bed this morning I was thinking that if I take away the time of my life, the ineffectual parts of it, what remains?


If I take off the time of my infancy, my sleep, my thoughtless hours, my days of sickness, and even in the fullness of years, how few have been my hours of usefulness?


March 10th, 2017



Ritz’s grandfather passed away on Tuesday afternoon. He said he felt a little sad, but otherwise he was fine. 

So life was just that much. Here now, gone in a flick, and yet we hold our possessions and our egos and eccentricities near our heart more than anything. We preserve until ‘one day’ not knowing that today may be our last ‘one’ day.

Rahul and I met Ritz yesterday. “Its astounding how there’s no courteousness left with people, dude,” he said, his forehead a tad creased. We sat by the poolside and talked. “What happened?” asked Rahul. “We had to book the church for the funeral,” said Ritz, “when my cousin and I went to meet the concerned people, they were cold. I know it isn’t any of their concern, and it is just their job, but even the job could do with some politeness. They just asked us for the death certificate, and told us how much it would cost to book the church and asked us whether we were bringing our own priest for mass,” he paused and had a sip of water, “my grandfather was ninety-seven years old, but those who come there might have lost a child, a spouse, or anyone else who was not as old. The least the people at the church could have done was utter a few words of comfort such as we are sorry for your loss, and now here is what you have to do in order to carry out the service, instead of being business like and impersonal.” Rahul and I were listening quietly, “We used to be regular at church, and these people know us well. So I went to the priest and told him that I had wished they were a little more respectful of people and their feelings. He said he would talk to them, which I doubt he would,” said Ritz. We were about to say something when he asked, “Did I tell you what happened when Lloyd got married?” Both of us shook our heads. “So it was Lent and Lloyd and I had visited the church to finalise the hymns for his wedding. Apparently there were some hymns that were not to be sung during Lent so the priest informed us of the same. Just as we were leaving, he calls out to us and tells us that there is a microphone fitted in the church, and even if he wasn’t around, he would be able to hear in his quarters what hymns were being sung, and if the ones that are banned during Lent were included in the hymns for the wedding, then he would not return the deposit amount that they had given the church while booking the church for the wedding.” Rahul and I both took a deep, thoughtful breath. “That is also one reason why I stopped going to the church. It is all business at the end of the day,” concluded Ritz.


Indeed, everything is a business at the end of the day. That is how mechanical we have all become.


March 9th, 2017

Once in a while things have to be left alone, especially when the sea is stirred up. Survival with others has its tempests, its storms of will, but it is prudent to retire to a safe harbour and let the waves subside. Recourses often worsen evils. Let nature take its course and morality too, since the mindful physician knows when to prescribe and when not to, and sometimes it takes skill not to apply remedies. 


March 8th, 2017



The soul of man is a microcosm having resemblances with all shades of life form right from the elementary to the tiniest; and the rank of the individual soul, of our own self, our personality, is determined by the things we are engrossed in, by the things that we love. There is no escape from this law that what we love, that we behold; and what we behold, that we are. Where our treasure is, there will our heart be also. It is of no use to stock our days with work, which we consider useful, if the moment that the tension is relaxed, our minds fly spontaneously to thoughts of money, ambition, self-indulgence or some preferred frivolity.


Remember that the mind is tinctured the colour of its thoughts, its leisure thoughts; as man conceives in his heart, so is he.


March 7th, 2017



A friend asked me why I take up so strongly for the oppressed, and sometimes offer my own examples to supplement the piece I am writing. Another friend asked me whether I was not worried to be judged by the reader. I ask, why are we afraid to confront our vulnerabilities? Why are we so comfortable in our mould that going against the grain sends shivers down our spine? Why do we want to project this ‘picture perfect’ impression to the world? Don’t we all have skeletons in our closets? Vices? Quirks? And unless we share with the world our imperfections, how would we heal, and how would be engage to know what others have felt too. How will we also let others understand that they are not alone in what they have gone through, or are going through?

As far as the world judging me is concerned, well, I care any less. Another friend suggested rather gravely that if I put this out there, and most of the stuff I candidly tell the world, it would allow people to use it to strike me beneath the belt when the opportune moment arose. I agree that one cannot trust too many people these days. Like life, relationships too have become fragile and opportunistic, but wouldn’t it be more dreary, or even distressing in bottling up the truth within us? For isn’t it fear that keeps us from staring at truth in the eyes.

If you want to be you, you can as well be confident about it.



March 6th, 2017



I was sitting at a café this morning and reading my morning paper. I couldn’t but help overhear two people talking at the table behind me. One guy was telling the other guy, “I like your cock.” I was astonished at the comfort of people speaking that loosely in public. I mean, decorum seems like a mirage these days! And then I thought to myself – no man would ever describe a woman like that, and perhaps that is where the shortcoming lies, don’t you think, where we men are far too caught up in our manliness? If only we were to objectify a particular part of a woman’s body with such open reverence, perhaps women too would love us men like men love men.

Instead of being prejudiced to the people who do not share the same orientation as us, I guess the least we heterosexual men can do is draw from them what suits us best, and mimic it in our heterosexual lives: who knows, our women would then actually claim that they love our penises more than merely loving our purses.
  


They promised to make Bangalore like Singapore ten years ago and did jack. Today, they promise that they would make Delhi, London. Our politicians are assuredly delusional.


March 5th, 2017


Every form of the written expression has its distinctive qualities. Your diary makes you write in it what you would be too afraid to tell others. It is your most trusted friend. Your novel demands a different syntax, a range that drains you mentally too. Your short story draws from you a language so diverse that you wonder at times whether it is you who has written it. And poems, well, do I even have to spell it. 


How fascinating it is indeed that everything we do makes us do it differently, even though the source is the same.



October 22nd, 2016


Someone asked me today what I would do now that I have family on the other side. For starters, I simply failed to comprehend the intent of the question. Be it this side or that side, family is family. I love my Danny, my Zee, my Imu. They are my life. They are my brothers. I live for them. So to answer the foolish question what would I do now, because they are on the other side? Well, I won't do anything because nothing can distance bonds, they remain in us until death does us part, although I did tell the dimwit who asked me this that those who want to fight can fight. They can tear themselves apart and eat each others flesh, and behave like stone-age barbarians BUT yes, if anyone even so touches my family I would certainly set the world on fire without an iota of regret.


October 17th, 2016 



For each new morning with its light
For rest and shelter of the night
For health and food, for love and friends

For everything Thy goodness sends


~ Ralph Waldo Emerson


October 7th, 2016



People of the armed forces are not dying for you and me – the citizens. They are dying for the muddle the statesmen create from time to time to attest to each other on who is mightier than the other.

The whipping up of emotions is nothing but, once again, targeted at one set of beliefs. While a good number see through the games, the rest prefer to play oblivious knowing full well that there is nothing that they can do about it.

Ask a common, rational, well-informed individual, and they would swear by love for each other and nothing but. Whether or not you may agree with me I think that the bottom line is that we are not fighting our neighbours. We are at battle with a certain creed, and unfortunately, all this is simply because of what has been ingrained in us, and something we carry around like it were something we cannot cut away from ourselves because we choose not to. What’s more? Times like these expose one’s true nature, and what an alarmingly disheartening face of us it is truly that we show.

Clearly we are also at conflict with ourselves. Had we not been in such a conflict with ourselves, we would have behaved differently than being an echo of the very ones we seem so vehemently to oppose.

I am reminded of the words of Fyodor Dostoevsky from THE BROTHER KARAMOZOV. He says, “Above all, avoid falsehood, every kind of falsehood, especially falseness to yourself. Watch over your own deceitfulness and look into it every hour, every minute.” 


October 4th, 2016



From when did the unsuccessful, bitter actors, musicians and singers of India become spokespeople for our armed forces and proponents of our country's wellbeing, eh?

Aah, I understand, with nothing to do they need something to keep them occupied, and therefore, they have collectively decided to show their true (wretched) colours.

I don't know about your level of tolerance for hypocrisy, but I find the poison they are spewing most inexcusable. Their dualism is astounding to say the least, in one breath they talk of advocating culture, and in another they display utter disregard to people and their beliefs. What a great spectacle of Indian manners and upbringing we are presenting to the world in general. And then we take pride in calling ourselves people of values.


So go on people. Go on with your tirades in the name of upholding glory. What better can we expect from bigots, only bigotry.


March 5th, 2016


As on a hinge, all the other virtues turn upon the virtue of perseverance. If we observe carefully, we discern that nine out of ten people abandon their projects and cover themselves with ruin and disgrace simply because they are lacking in perseverance. They are not wanting in prowess or wisdom, nor do they lack the desire to employ them, but they lack steadiness. They do not centralise their energies on the fruition of their object. They are frequently changing from one thing to another; and they are easily discouraged by disappointments. The result – their difficulties multiply to such an extent that a time soon comes when it is beyond the power of any man to overcome them.


January 20th, 2016


The smallest stream if allowed to run on unchecked, will soon grow broader and broader, until presently having cut it’s way deep down, it finds itself flowing through mighty valleys where it is then inconceivable to stay its course. Therefore, it is vital that each one of us cultivate the all-important virtue of perseverance; without which all other virtues become quite valueless; like the gold of fairies which shines and looks genuine in my wallet, but which when I come to actually use it, has turned, I discover, into worthless rubbish.



January 8th, 2016


A new idea has energy, but like a new battery in an old flashlight, its power is temporary. It is natural for me to return to activities that are known, to once again think thoughts that are familiar. To be constantly reminding myself to change requires an effort that cannot be sustained. Nor should it be. The longer I coerce myself to obey a concept that no longer inspires me, the more I must trample my own loves and instincts and natural interests. Nothing is gained by pushing something good beyond its season. An idea can inspire me, but it is not inspiration. I can change in spurts, but I change. Each new concept leaves its residue, each idea that excites me to temporary change does in fact permanently change me, even though almost imperceptibly. I will be fortunate if I learn, really learn, one or two lessons in my life. The implication, of course, is that there is more to come.



December 31st, 2015 


Today, most of us seem to prefer a predictable life, quiet and free from excesses. Few would favour a radical existence, unpredictable and disorderly. I wonder what happened to the fun-loving spirits we once were? The fun and hope we allowed to dominate our days. When did gathering with friends become occasions solely for sounding the bell of doom? Our straight laces do, indeed, need some serious loosening from time to time, for our own sake and for the sake of those who love us. The weight of the world is a terrible thing to be saddled with. We should refuse to carry it if it is at the expense of the lighter load of laughter and light heartedness.



December 22nd, 2015

We ought to stop judging others by their behaviour just as we ought to stop judging ourselves by our intentions. We must not forget that it is people who make us feel and then it is people again, who also make us, at times, question what we feel.


December 21st, 2015

The way things are going in the world all of us need to stick together. Protect one another. The last thing we need to do is attack each other. For the wrong doing of some people from a particular community, one cannot target and victimise everyone else they know of that community. What people are not realising is that an eye for an eye is not going to yield any workable solutions. The more people are going to push people, the more a particular community would react in order to protect themselves, and it is a complete destruction of everyone, both sides. 


December 20th, 2015 
Strange how two people, not related by blood, by age could still be so incredibly similar – near carbon copies of each other. Strange that there is so much more to what we understand about the mind, about us, about life, and so much more to what we actually feel. Sometimes I feel that the surface is merely an illusion, the truth is far deeper and neither have we, or can we, ever reach its nucleus.

Is it chemistry, biology or even the past life creeping into the present I do not know, however, of what I know is that these connections leave me so complete and so secure that it’s seriously something that I could never be able to sum up and neither could words.


December 19th, 2015 

I was chatting with a friend recently about how the youth of today has nothing much to look forward to and what we most urgently need to do is - read. Read they must, I agree, but how are we to get them to read when the distractions of life are far too many for them to fathom. When you see restlessness in their eyes, you feel like rescuing them, but how can you prod them towards peace when peace is a feeling so alien to them. 


December 18th, 2015

It is not that Indian philosophy is not effective. It sure must be. It is just that Indian philosophers are not able to convey their essence correctly. Or for that matter retain your interest for too long. In order to glorify their theories they begin mystifying their postulates and often end up damaging them beyond repair. 

I struggled with Tagore. He was too scattered. A bore. J Krishnamurthy uttered some great things, but many stupid and tinted. However, Paramhansa Yogananda has to be the most delusional of them all. He is markedly a league apart in advocating the absurd, and making the mainstream accept his weird as wonderful. Talk about blind faith. Err, was I meaning to say blond actually. 

December 17th, 2015

Yesterday was one year of the anniversary of the Peshawar killings where 141 innocent children lost their lives. My brother Ali (Zafar) wrote a song and most of his buddies joined hands in helping him raise funds to build schools in the name of the lives lost. Obviously, I shared the info as I am proud of all that Ali does. One year down, 23 schools have been already built - some dedication and some feat that is! Couple of idiots have been sending me messages asking me to move to Pakistan. I would like to say one thing rather clearly, I am an Indian and I will remain an Indian. I do not have to prove my allegiance to this nation, or its people, time and time again. Second, I live for my friends. When I make friends, I do not specifically seek British, French, Italian or friends based on region or country, so what is the fuss about having friends from Pakistan. Ali and Danyal are my brothers, my family. Imran, or whoever else from Pakistan, they are my buddies, and no one can even so raise a finger at them. It is the job of the politicians is to manipulate us, but we must know better - that people are people; we like to co-exist with love and amity. As for the spineless arseholes who have messaged me with expletives, I only have this to say - I shall not stop talking to you like you asked me if I would, but, yes, someone would surely break all of your teeth so that you would never be able to talk such nonsense with anyone else ever again. So please practise restraint or bugger off. 


December 15th, 2015

When you are younger you want this and you want that but with time it dawns on you that extravagance, like amassing, is neither fulfilling nor comforting. 


December 11th, 2015

Aha, today seems like a lovely day. The sun is shining and the rays that stream themselves through the large windows at home infuse life into me, life, that had become slightly damp with the weather that was depressingly grey over the last couple of weeks. If it had not spread such witless gloom on the inhabitants of Bangalore, it had resulted in wrecking havoc in erstwhile Madras, now known as Chennai. The city was flooded. Homes destroyed. Lives lost. Just goes on to make you realise that life is only that much, here now, gone in a second.