Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The night was long...

Dear ***,
I feel weary today. But it is a nice stretchy feeling. You know, a feeling of such sorts arises out of a sense of sublime satisfaction after something. Last night I just did that. No not that, OBVIOUSLY!

You know girl, I couldn't meet you on Sunday. I have my own bag of troubles which was heavier that evening. Last night however when I called you a million, zillion, gazillion times, and by this time, I even have a recorded electronic voice travelling in the back of my head, "Tamay je number sampark sadhvanuche....is switched off or out of coverage area!" It went on and on and on and on. And on and on and on and on. But I am not the one to give up something so cherished on such an easy note.

The words I gathered since you landed in Mumbai, were " I am somewhere at NCPA...free today but not tomorrow...Lakme Fashion Show begins...launch party....Bastard....I'm on roaming!" So much for a courtsey call.

Last night I thought of 'gatecrashing' at the show as giving you a sweet surprise at NCPA. Good friends of Lakme. We start on an enthusiastic roar after an invigourating drink. Let the frenetic search begin!

NCPA was haunting at 11 o'clock in the night. I could see grand silhouettes of pink and red backdrops for the show being installed, however there was no humdrum of a ramp, neither could I see any melee of fashionistas. Duh.. I went to some people who seem to be event executives, they had no idea of a pre-launch party. I call again. Recorded voice.

Then we check Cafe Sidewok by the NCPA. Reassured by the security of rare possibility of a launch party, and dejected already, we thought of taking a walk at Marive Drive. But somewhere in my mind I knew I had to try more. So we took a cab to Cafe Mondegar. Checked the place inside out. The manager suggested to try Leopolds'. I looked out for that familiar face which I had never seen in flesh and blood. I was waiting for a glimpse of the brilliant gleam of your eyes and the wisp of your curls to hit me out from the crowd. Phew! Wasn't of any avail. Where are you ***? How stupid of you to put your only means of communication, off! How stupid of me to not meet you till now!

We head off towards Colaba, and think of all the possible places you might be on a weekday, that too at the start of the week! Privee? Khyber?, JAzz by the Bay?....Maybe Tavern! We ask our cabbie to wait outside Tavern. I walk in and walk out. They were showing the Pink Floyd anthem on the large screen and people still had the head to sway to the number played innumerous times since decades. Well Vivek had suggested to check the Terrace Bar at the Strand Hotel. I pretty much liked the place when I reached the top where I could see the glam-lit Mumbai skyline as gentle waves struck the jettied boats bobbing by the Drive. The night was humid and the air was heavy, four floors above the sea.

We thought of catching up with a refresher drink. It was way past 1 o'clock already as we talked on things like intellectual stimulus, and how intellectual spriritualism is a better way to escape rather than spiritual practice, itself. (That's a whole new spectrum altogether ...another chapter). For a moment I thought I was not calling you anymore. You might be asleep by now tucked in a cosy corner somewhere in the buildings around me. :) So I might as well let you sleep, as I did not want to disturb the recorded voice on your phone service. You got a long week ahead. I had a long night, last night. Take Good Care.

My call and my self could not reach you. By the time you read this, you would be away, already.

Love,
***.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

............Dangling Ocean Jetty Legs


All alone not by myself

Another girl bad for my health
I've seen it all through someone else
And I (love a girl bad for my health)

Celebrated but undisturbed
And serenaded by the terror bird
It's seldom seen and its never heard
I'm (serenaded by the terror bird)

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face

Disintegrated by the rising sun
A rolling black out of oblivion
And I'd like to think that I'm your number one
(I'm rolling black out of oblivion)

I wanna leave but I just get stuck
A broken record runnin' low on luck
There's heavy metal coming from your truck
And I'm (a broken record running low on luck)

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face

We could all go down to Malibu and make some noise
Coca Cola doesn't do the justice she enjoys
We could all come up with something new to be destroyed
We could all go down

I love the feeling when it falls apart
I'm slow to finish but I'm quick to start and
Beneath the heather lies the meadowlark
And I'm (slow to finish but I'm quick to start)

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face
Yeah...

Desecration Smile by the RHCP from their album Stadium Arcadium (2006)




Sunday, March 11, 2007

Saltwater and a handful of Sand

Goa has always come to me in doses. Probably so, for there is so much to fathom. And this trip was indeed long due and well earned. There were several reasons for it. The major ones being, it coincided with Vivek and Kristi’s visit to India after four years and meeting Rogger before he leaves for Sri Lanka. I too have been stretching my neurons and tendons for quite a while. Also the place has been pulling me for a while now.

Maybe it provides a fascinating setting for my “The Beach” adventure, maybe it is the allure of white sands and hours of lazing in the sun, maybe it’s the whole idea of being in a place where you can be what YOU are! Or maybe it’s just an abrupt ricochet of memories of a past life.

Whatever might be the reason, Anjuna never seemed to be unhindered or unfamiliar to me, once we reached at the tiny sleepy village. With Kristi around, people thought us to be from some other land, and they were very helpful. I wonder what the response would had been, had they known that they were talking to two long-maned Bengali lads, one Goan and a pretty Estonian lady with a doe-eyed tot, Sarah, restless to the hilt, exchanging laps at will! However Oliver had gotten ourselves a good enough bungalow on rent from his god-mother, though I wondered later about the godly bill that evolved out of our stay.


Sleepy Anjuna and Flour Mills













The breakfasts, lunches and dinners that had to follow were only too cheap, too delicious, too spicy and served by an overtly prompt and helpful guy who was over-driven by the favourite local flavour – fenni. Hence sometimes we had a few meddles in getting the menu right. But such meddles only add to the fun and at every serving we turned ravenous, at the mere sight of food dished out at us - Sorpatel – heavily spiced gravy of minced pork had with local bread (pav), Kalamari Rice – tangy flavoured neatly cut local squid mixed with fried rice or just had with potato fries, fresh prawns curry, prawn noodles, beef toast, roast beef, scrambled eggs and bacon with bread and all these coupled with tea, coffee, or beer depending on time and mood. Later I really regretted to spend on a few jazzy bars, pseudo-hippie haunts and also a famous MNC food chain which almost cost us the rent for four bikes on hire for a day.

Unleashing man and machine












Talking about bikes, driving around in Goa is the greatest experience of freedom as long as you are lucky not to be hit by a fenni-frenzied local or a nitro-fueled expat on his Enfield. Yes the classic Indian road mustang – Enfield Bullet. No other place in India has so many of these native choppers wheezing past you with that masculine roar of the engine. There were all kinds of Enfield Bullets that I found in Anjuna – modified and coloured to various tastes. Psychedelic colours played on the massive tanks and solid well built bodies and the curved handles gleamed in the sun promising a great ride. I saw so many skinny chicks riding Bullets and they were so much in control of that monstrous engine chugging underneath those frail things. WHOA! It goes without saying that we too got ourselves a Bullet 500 and a Bajaj Avenger. Both Vivek and Kristi love the machine and Oliver found the Avenger comfortable to cruise on. Bikes truly enliven your flights of freedom whereas cars are only too comfortable for the beer-heavy bellies. Ample buses and rickshaws zip by and you can even hitch-hike a jolly ride to your way.


Exhilerator Vagator

Since a few years, I have been interestingly drawn towards the yogic way of life. Considering the picturesque setting, me and Oliver jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn and set foot towards the sea at Vagator on the first day. It was an ethereal experience. Facing the chill of the sea wind, staring at the waves, feeling the mildewed sand underneath and the various asanas provided me with the perfect harmonization of man and nature. Behind me was the Chapora fort, an open air romantic set to so many Bollywood flicks, and in front was the ageless vastness of the ocean. This was solitude. Reminded me of love. We took a walk down to the turn of the cove and felt the chilly water play with our feet. Little attention was paid to the film crew assembling at the far end of Vagator cove, by locals or by Oliver or by me - a yogic nomad, an urban hippie, call me whatever. As Yoga refreshed me in thought, the swim invigorated my limbs, and the sun greeted us in readiness for a great trip ahead.



Goa's very own Cafe Del Mar

One thing why I prefer shacks more than super malls is the snugness and the one-on-one bargains that they offer. Here you don’t walk into a gigantic structure made of titanium steel alloys with more glass, steel, lights, blitz and all chiseled into magnificent perfection. How I loved being away from all those! It was fun to look at the shocked faces of the shack owners when we started bargaining in Hindi and how well. In the shopping onslaught, we were able to get some very good bargains for all of us and especially for Kristi who would’ve had a ripped purse at the end of her shopping spree, if we weren’t around. Just imagine getting a tie-died spaghetti top for 50 Indian rupees over a quote of 500. I picked up a lot of spiritual and psytrance as well as some meditative music by Prem Joshua.



Soaking up the Sun and Psychedelia

When going beach hopping, we avoided the commercial and crowded ones and stuck to Anjuna and Vagator. The afternoon swim was at Vagator and the whole ambience around the semicircular silvery cove was reminiscent of ‘The Beach’ footage.

That night we biked our way to Paradiso Anjuna, with the almost full moon over our heads, we strode the stairway down to the beach along side the much hounded pub. The beauty of the night unleashed itself upon me. The tide was high and waves were crashing on to the gentle mounds of solitary rocks jutting out of the sand. The sea shimmered like thousand gems spread beneath the canopy of a big wide blue. I could hear the slow thud of spiritual trance playing at Paradiso, at the back and the moon playing the master of this cosmic symphony. It was the music of what silence played on me. You forget where you belong to and where you have to go, at such a state. Mind you – I hadn’t done any substances! Far at the corner of the hills behind me, I could see shimmers of brilliant tiny lights luminescent from the shacks. My heart skipped a beat and reminded me of love and only love. The Tooth Fairy wasn’t in sight anywhere around.

However next day, after the morning swim, we touched Ozrant. The whole world came to a halt, apart from Sarah – of course. Man what an amazingly undiscovered place. We had a sumptuous breakfast at Goa’s very own Café Del Mar at Ozrant. The whole place spoke of palms, thatched huts, cosy places at every shade, psychedelic chairs and the awe-inspiring work of nature sprawled below. We knew at once that this is what we had come looking for. Later the trip to Baga was sunny and it was crowded with sun-hungry Caucasians, though the beach was a huge stretch of clean white sand. Candolim was exciting with an abandoned ship and a swim in the huge waves under the hull. The waves here were playful with strong under-currents. Sarah amused herself with her father and Oliver, while Kristi just would not leave the water saying “I can stay here all day!”


Crowded Shore, Barren Ship

One amusing thing about Candolim was that everyone around me was over-weight pensioners from Europe and the US, which made me feel a bit jittery because it reminded us of the time to come. “I will die young,” I said, “you’ll see, I’ll die young!” Little Sarah smiled at that. Nevertheless, the waves were beautiful and the sun was golden.




Subliminal Flows

The sunset at Ozrant, was as dramatic as one of my earlier posts “Lucid Hedonism”.


It re-established my belief of astral travel. The sights, the sounds and the feels were subliminal to my neurons. I could really feel the repairs taking place in my long-stressed brains gradually. The sea here was suddenly deep and calm waves washing at the aureate shores. A few shacks were lined way into the palms and they served ales and food to tattoos and tie-die mushroom merchandise. The shack we chose was the one playing some locally brewed psychedelic trance. The sun was on its way to kiss the sea, so Kristi, Oliver and me tried to get some good shots out of it with some beers. Children and grown ups alike, skittered around the beach carefree as they had made it their second home. A grown up version of Sarah played around in the sand with her brother while their folks swayed to the rhythm of the spiritual music. I had a few friendly exchanges with the shack owner a long-haired tattooed and pierced Nepalese who was also the one responsible for belting out the music.









A very – allow me to use this subjective term – ‘cute’ family passed us by. They were as cute as Vivek’s family. The man was tall and lean; he had weather-beaten skin with black dreadlocks stacked above and one gleeful tot running around his towering stature. He waved at what seemed to be a local fisherwoman and bowed courteously to her and had a brief bonhomie. This Rastafarian gentleman was hand-in-hand with his fair lady who in turned smiled at the little cherub-like baby in her arms. This joyful mob walked their way across us into the sunset, which had already matured into vibrant intermingling hues. Ozrant will stay with me forever. After all it was my abstract Lucid Hedonism, realized.

Disturbances in the great Slumber


That night back in our bungalow, I slept on the terrace. I swept glances with the sky through luscious palms, gazing at the stellar diamonds shining their light on me. The moon shone in glory, as I passed from one transient stage to another. I never realized the spur of the hour when I finally transcended from my reverie to neverland. The night was pleasant and I dreamt. The Tooth Fairy appeared besides me and took me in her astral embrace. It washed away all my sands of trouble and induced nectar like intoxication into the sweet-smelling springtime night. Everything was heavenly...as if in pristine paradise, but there was a strong pain in my heart, of some unknown sadness, still the moments were golden. Her large curious eyes looked at me with the most tender reverberation, that would melt the most inert of all hearts. And together we took off and flew to galaxies nested with civilizations who had never heard of eternal pain or longing. My heart drowned in perpetual bliss. Early morning the first rays of the sunrise, the chirping of birds and Oliver’s sun-toasted face woke me up! The Tooth Fairy was gone. It’s a pity Tooth Fairies do not last till the day. Waking up I couldn't feel anything, but the urge to recollect the real moments from the unreal...It was bittersweet.

Walking the Green Mile Home


Meeting Rogger was fun, he was in is elements and his chirpy best. My shooting him constantly made him feel like the ‘Star of Goa’ as his conscious self proclaimed. He showed us many interesting things like how to get the car to blink without touching it! It took me an emotional moment to realize that Vivek, Kristi and Rogger, would go off their ways soon, and the next point of such an assemblage would be of questionable certainty. Watching Kristi give a bucket bath to Sarah or Disney Chick as I lovingly call her is such a spectacle.With chants of “üks..kaks..kolm…suketu!” or one..two..three…dive!, the emphatic Sarah who just crossed the 10 month mark, would dive into her bucket and look around at all of us with an Archimedean expression of accomplishment. Will see her grown up next time. Hope Rogger grows up too, or maybe not, because he is best at what he is now…like Goa forever!

THE TANNED!












THE BUCKETEERS!



THE STRUNG!

THE TOASTED!























SNUGGY!
All fools, me cool!...
no the coolest, yes!

Lucid Hedonism I & II


Lucid Hedonism

What is it about the Mediterranean sunset? The wine, the air, the people, the music, the sea...oh yes the sea. Mykonos, Ibiza, French Riviera, Bali. Take Goa, coz I am still poor. It’s the calm of the chaos. The freedom. The earthy sense of belonging. Close to a world we all ignore in the buzz of a mechanized jungle.

Here we come in praise of the sun. Psychedelic colours fill your eyes up as you look in its direction. Or do we see glistening mermaids in the shimmering sea as I lie in my hammock. This mix of pina colada is heaven. This Cafe Del Mar mix of Chicane - Offshore is pristine. The beach is lonely apart from a few pleasure seekers like me. There is a little hilltop at a distance. I can hear faint ambient music coming in my direction, calling me. I look at my side. I see the Tooth Fairy in her dark glasses looking at the sky. Her pale skin has turned a shade darker with the tan. She looks back at me. And we both know. Hand in hand we start our slow walk towards the hillock by the sea. The sun is on its way to never land. Alfredo, our tattoo guy, screams out something to us from his shack. He was flinging something in the air, which looked like currency notes. Poor fellow, will realise when he wakes up next morning...I mean if he ever sleeps.

I pull the Tooth Fairy up the rocks as she joyfully chuckles something funny that I cannot recall. I ask her to stop thinking of Bombay. We reach the top. The wind almost blows my Tooth Fairy off her feet into the fall from the cliff several feet down. I hold her with both hands in a firm grip. The music is louder now. Its psytrance. The crowd is more or less....ok lets not get into ethnicity. The crowd is good. They are gesticulating in a strange way that is no more strange to me, as if throwing their bodies around. I see a long-haired blond girl sitting at the far end of the cliff in deep meditation, facing the setting sun. They are brothers and sisters of the earth. One world, one life. Fellow Earthlings! This is the time to be. We are alive.

Someone tugs me by my hand. I turn around to see someone I recognize but can't quiet remember. She takes me winding through the crowd to a small shack nearby. More crowds. Humdrum. Kids running here and there. A few people had gathered there looking at something in unison. Before I wondered what, I could see the magic that they were going through. A sole paraglider hovering in the sky with the huge crimson sun touching the waters as a perfect backdrop. The sky is a flurry mix of a thousand shades. Crimson, Purple, Blue. The sand never felt so good under my feet. And in this moment I am happy. I felt Love. I take Toothy by her arms and planted a placid kiss on her frail lips.

This is pure Hedonism. This is my lucid dream.


Moksha: Lucid Hedonism II



Here....this is eternity. Freeze frame. The moment stops. This is the world. This is nothingness.

So many times I have runed on apocalyptic thoughts and prayed for a mass phenomenon. Six years back the world was close to a real happening, Y2k. But it turned out to be a marketing hype. That was sad. Nostradamus and the Church, you both were miserably wrong! Then came Aum Shinrikyo - The Supreme Truth, the Japanese Cult. OK. Forget that. Think about Sensations - the mammoth raves organised in Germany. Think G8 Live. These are mass occurrences. But nothing ever happens. No adrenaline. Finally I'm getting out of here. Arms are stretched wide, on the edge and the angel glides down to take me. It becomes tiring to ask oneself all the time "whats next?". Its finally over. The end of stagnation, the final rot. The everlasting celebration begins.

World! Be happy , in your neverending tryst clamouring for space, to accomodate your body and your mind.

Samsara! Be happy in the chaos. Hope you find the euilibrium that you desperately need. Beauty you could never be appreciated. Nature thou shall always be defiled. Samsara! Be happy in your own world.

Then....there is light. Luminous, effervescent, unearthly, divine light. Which gives enormous strength. Which brings about extreme positivity. It feels like I have always been working out in the gym. It feels like I have always been practising the divine Yogasanas all my life. Its like mint jacuzzi after a Turkish massage laced with enchanting oil and magickal mud. Maybe this is the perpetual feeling which everyone vies for? Or maybe they forget what are they seeking for.

Thoughts should have a getaway which is most significant. Thoughts should lead to action. Action removes stagnation. Its this static ecstatic state of mind which should be omnipresent and shall never fade.

We should all be willfully seeking this pleasure.

Black Metal



I strongly believe I am a follower.

It transcends me to a different world. A world of never-ending winters, blizzards, snow covered woods and fields, night and the full moon, log cabins, dark clothing, display of weapons and armoury, something hugely medieval... It also gives me the feeling of perpetual desolation...and helps me to enjoy the feeling all the more.

In India, I must say...its pretty difficult to derive "that" feeling.

Mainly for 3 reasons : Atmosphere, Absolute Solitude, Music.

I remember trying to get as close to the feeling of such nature during the rains roaming in the hills that lie between Bombay and Pune while listening to an obscure band called Limbonic Art. (Voices : I require the solace of the shadows, so the night can be revealed!!!) It was an enthralling experience. It was cold...foggy and the mood...intoxicating with anandamide (Voice : Do I have to mention that?)

So, Atmosphere: Yes!

Absolute Solitude: Definitely Yes. Coz there wasn't any scope for any kind of human intervention apart from my good old horde of two more. It was gettin dark and it was magickal.

Music: Was carrying: Profanum Aeternum - Eminence of Satanic Imperial Art & Limbonic Art - Epitome of Illusions.


Now where do you find such peace and desolation without any questions asked...anywhere in India. And if you do...You are one hell of a lucky Black Metal head! Here, in the cities you dodge between heavy traffic and cattle and more cattle who think they are office goers. Forget about gothic structures.

People gaze at me, at the intricate artwork on my full sleeve black T-shirt, then a fleeting glance all over and they start all over again. Imagine if I play Black Metal for them! ( I have people issues since eons) * A blog will be dedicated to PEOPLE*

So now, Atmosphere, Absolute Solitude, Music : Fail Miserably!

Like I always say...If you never experienced the allure of epic fantasy, insane screams, gothic atmosphere, the allure of forests and woods, desolations, living in log cabins, winter nights, blizzardous nights, the love of darkness and occult...then you probably would never know Black Metal.

Mighty Morbid Hails.

Dance of the Dervish

My father used to take me to visit the shrine of a certain Muslim seer, back home at my native place. I have clear vivid memories of that place which seem so majestic, grandiose at the same time eerily quiet. Once during a special occasion at the shrine, I heard enthralling voices along with a rhythmic accompaniment of percussions and other instruments which blended so beautifully with the fragrant holy smoke emerging from a huge incense bowl placed before the singers. They were dressed in flowing white tunics and their eyes had the soormah – a special sort of mascara. Bearded and long haired, their voices rose and fell with rapturous melody, and their beautiful faces strained in devotion and the flow of music. The whole atmosphere was divine. The singers sang in Urdu. The melodic patterns of the beat were in perfect harmony with the lush green surroundings of the holy shrine. I could figure a bit of what their words meant. They spoke of “the body not being your body, but that being a divine possession of the Lord and His will. How dare you let yourself or anyone tamper with it?” I am reminded of a line which said “There only Light everywhere and it is Your Light that prevails and I submit myself to this Light!” It was magickal. I was lost. And I found myself at the same time. It was with great efforts that I had to bring myself to the 'real' world and go back home with Dad.

Sufi music does wonders. It is the kind of music which is extremely emotional, high on energy, devotional, intensely spiritual and that which preaches the ultimate love of God. I am an agnostic non believer, a born Hindu Brahmin. Still I have always been drawn towards knowing things which are so simple yet so very complex to comprehend. And Sufi represents the mystic realm of Islam. I have often been bemused by looking at the dervishes swaying in a perpetual state of euphoria. They are supposed to be in a direct dialogue with the divine world. It’s a selfless urge to plunge into the spiritual plane with no disturbance being that great a disturbance in their path to stop them from whirling. The divine dervishes hold their right hand to towards the heavens, palm held outstretched for “receiving from God” and left hand titled down earthwards “giving oneself to the earth”. Their head titled towards the right hand which is a sign of submission to the Lord. The dervish becomes a direct connect between the spiritual and the material world. They show how minuscule we are in front of the great Universe. The very thought humbles the mind. The whirling dervishes in white flowing robes and head gear swirling round and round in circular trance-like state under the influence of some very profound tunes, make a uniquely inspirational sight. The dance of the dervishes signifies the loss of conditionality. It resembles joy that exists in solemn undertones of detachment. It marks the sense of being at one with the greatness of the earth. Something that we all have long forgotten.

Sex, Tongues and Chocolate


Sex should not be just sex. It is ought to be a euphoric proliferation of intense emotions. Unsaid, unexplainable thoughts and ideas communicated through breath, eyes and limbs. And above all the quintessential tongue…yes the tongue! The most powerful muscle of the human body which communicates so well! (Roy…you dumbass! You never knew this until last week when you saw Sarah Jane blurting it out in some sillyass music channel program) The tongue which helps you to ‘taste’ sweet revenge, bitter truth or even honey laced success. Apart from the time that it gets as much at its disposal, from hard solids to pasty semisolids to fluid juices. Sometimes it can also involuntarily spew venom. But let’s not get into that.


One of my ex-girlfriends (Lets call her as EX) had this thing she used to do with her tongue. She used to lick my ears! (Before you go eww…my ears are quite clean, or she wouldn’t had done that in the first case) OK now licking ears in the act is supposed to be sexy and arousing. And many women like doing that and it works to an extent. EX was no exception and I was obliged to let be it for the fear of being a turn-off and losing out on the application of the most powerful muscle of her body on other profound places of me which demanded more attention. However EX, the poor pretty thing, was pretty determined and engrossed in wetting the insides of my ear, working her way, making heavy tympanic damages to my cochlea (to avoid confusion – COCHlea is a snail-shaped tube in the inner ear where sound vibrations are converted into nerve impulses) and eardrums to a point that made it difficult to even hear my inner voice. White noise. No choice! It seemed much like an over-excited pet mongrel clamouring for attention, by breathing hot air and huge wet licks by its huge wet tongue on the face of the keeper.


Foreplay can be very hammed-up sometimes. Chocolate is supposed to be very ‘la amour’ sensuous, when it comes to foreplay. EX made sure she had a bite before slurping and sticking it up on the most powerful muscle of my body…no guessing, my tongue! Sometimes after heavy foreplays I had earfuls of Dairy Milk or Mars. It was quiet a job to clean the gooey stuff off my ears and their respective lobes. Though, I have never made known of my discomfort to her.

Well props like chocolate, ice, ice cream, wine are passé. Go to Amsterdam dude. You should visit Amsterdam at least once in your lifetime. The Dutch are truly unique and creative. They are dirty and free. Indulgence in pleasure is bountiful out there. Don’t stop at cheese…there are many more, from props to manuals to live demos. No wonder we Indians go Dutch so many times in our pursuit for intoxication! I don’t think EX ever knew of the Dutch.

Anyways as I was saying, apart from stupid fixations, artificial orgasms and whines are as lame. They will not reach you where you guys want to go. The key to a good experience lies in Tantra. You submit yourselves to each other with no inhibitions or false veil of shame. (“If you gotta do it, you gotta do it!” Like how the Yankees would like to say, though they are worse at it.) It is good to consider sex as something spiritual, a kind of cleansing of the souls, as I have said earlier… It ought to be a euphoric proliferation of emotions. Unsaid, unexplainable thoughts and ideas communicated through breath, eyes and limbs and yes the tongue! The most powerful…(OK I guess you have got that by now) The cleansing occurs when you see the act not as a primal requirement of your body - though it is one - but as a trip. A spiritual trip. Where you and your partner entwined as one, soar unto the skies of limitless positive energy. It’s like the movie ‘Cocoon’ where the aliens make love by intense concentration at a single point of contact within the mind. When you and your partner are on the same plane of prolific mutual engagement, what you have is not sex but it’s a spiritual experience. It is Goddess Worship. Making your woman realize how good she makes you feel and you in turn devote yourself in her adoration. Many of us don’t recognize this fact because of the perpetual sojourns of the restless mind. That is when sex becomes an act instead of an experience.

Before I go ahead here are some noteworthy facts about India: Tantra and Kama Sutra were conceived here. Men and Women both had long hair and were clothed only waist-down. Cleavage was passé. (He he…ok I’m not sure about the last one)


Now, this might be a bit off topic, but still I would like to talk of the twisted form of sexuality in our society. Enough has been said to a point of ostracizing the carnal pleasures of love making due to the ever prevailing double standards of our society. Take the traditional Indian example of arranged marriage. Here man meets woman under the consent and watchful eyes of their parents and they ‘sleep together’ on their very Suhaag Raat i.e. the wedding night. How does it work out? Well it starts with sleeping as strangers and then loving and caring for each other for the rest of their lives. Sounds sick! Now take the case of a very urban ‘technologically and intellectually’ advanced city where man meets woman. Complete strangers fall in love and into bed as well! Sounds sick as well? Well it might, for the selfsame Indian couple who were perfect strangers to body, mind and soul on the very day of their defloration. Their Wedding Night! Cheers and get some chocolate please!

LUST and Love

All love dies after ejaculation...

It’s true. When it is Lust it is just Lust. Period. No other feelings or emotions.

Lust only serves the primal carnal desires of the flesh. It sees no caste, creed, race, colour or even sex to some. The ever-present dormant beast waiting in anticipation to derive pleasures of the flesh leaps out of our civilized selves to dive into the world of unexplainable reveries. People in love, many a times, are actually giving in (and giving head) to Lust in disguise. Women are confused as they always are; whether its affection or physical attraction. Especially if you are a great love maker, this confusion only grows...to my great dismay! Who wouldn’t like to have a partner who loves and shoves in massive and caring proportions?

Well to all the misled and misguided ones, here’s a sermon from Demonos Roy.

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAKING LOVE. Remember this next time when you are with your partner! Making Love. Its just a marketing jargon used extensively by condom advertisements. Imagine you “making love” and it starts with the characteristic kissing and fondling and the mellow whisperings of ‘I love yous’ to each other. Then it escalates to a point of thanksgiving to God namely, OH GOD! Oh God Fuck! Also how can I forget the repeated self inflictions of indignity viz. Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Tell me something, where does all the love go during these times? Blame it on role-play.

To me love is innocent, pure and unconditional. It transcends boundaries, barriers, body, and time. Lust cannot. Too much of purple Lust lies beneath the pink of Love. Why does everyone need to have someone attractive to be a partner-in-relationship?

So all Lust dies after ejaculation. Love remains.

INFIDEL CASTRO

A few days back my friend had asked me to jot a few words on INFIDELITY. Days went by, to weeks to almost a month and a half. I still have not the yearning to really write about it. If any of you readers have faced it or even practiced it, which I’m sure most of you have, you definitely know that the effect of our enzymic chemicals acting upon us. Be it testosterone or oestrogen or any other yet undiscovered. No wonder as the eccentric Einstein once said ‘Love is chemistry, Sex is Physics.’ And by all means I abide by it.


Physical attraction can disguise itself as love. And we humans are very adept in reassuring ourselves that is ‘make-believe’. A harmless wink, a teasing glance, a subtle twist of lips------- the whole kinesis of the human body is inclined to be ruled by the chemicals within us. INFIDELITY happens when the chemicals take over the physical. In other words, when greed, lust, sloth and likewise – preside over and defy – all logical reasoning within us. All of a sudden the risks are no more the ‘risks’. It’s a mad rush. I am not trying to be too articulate with words, but I’m saying in a blatantly practical way. INFIDELITY is the seed borne by us. The seed is dormant, its never inactive. Only sanity lies in holding to the ‘faith’.


You will see that even religions might allow polygamy but that’s within an institution. Out side of marriage, in a physical relationship, a woman will always be a mistress. Extra-marital affairs. Hmm…sad, though not in bed. One fling is fine. Two One-night-stands are ok. But an organized meet-up between consenting adults is something approached in cold blood. The mad rush becomes a steady flow. None of the two really thinks of his/her home or family. All they need is pleasure and someone who they think listens to them. After all we are also social ANIMALS.


INFEDILITY can also be very addictive. When the juices flow steadily. Some people are driven by thrills of the flesh, some for mere recognition in the other person’s eyes, some to be loved by so many at the same time, some to kill boredom because they think they are not skilled in any other way, still there are scores of people driven towards infidelity for something as harmlessly dangerous as the curiosity arising out of an meagre infatuation.


However, there is no need to lose hope though. There are people who still are staunch believers of monogamy. Those who value the value of ‘being faithful’. A person would never get ‘carried away’ if his will does not give in. No matter how intoxicated, depressed, unhappy and dissatisfied he/ she is in life with their current partner. A very simple logic would be, you are always free to walk out of the other person’s life and then start a new relation. Then why handle parallel lives and incompetent wives?


The immediate remedy is to dissociate and try not to brood. Followed by starting out afresh. This would please you, her and Einstein.

Nostalgic Ranting

This was written by me some years back.

I feel nostalgic and quite glad to be alive as I post it today.

I have felt like waiting at the tip of the iceberg, as the massive ice melts down, slowly but surely giving way to the cold motionless water of the sea. The situation is desperate where you know there is no one to your rescue. You know the horrific consequences of the inevitable. But you can do nothing. Absolutely nothing. It is sinking. And it will take you and me along with it. Wild reveries of thoughts occur in my mind.

As a human there are plans you devise, or at least try to think of a constructive end to a calamity. I am trying to calm down. ‘Deep breath in’ and ‘Breathe out’ I tell myself. The various “alternative solutions of the problem” as taught in management programs or, B-schools, the more colloquial or I should say the “in” way of calling the IIMs and the lesser ones. I call the “lesser ones” as lesser because they are not tagged with the illustrious magical letters I.I.M. This is how millions of Indian engineering graduates (or even those not from India) feel in the same vein, as lesser to the IITs. Note the double I’s in IIT and IIM…it cannot get any clearer than this (me myself and 'I') Whoever thought of what they teach in there behind those sleek walls with sleeker whiteboards and all the big honchos of tomorrow watching at their mentors in rapt attentiveness with eyes behind the sleekest of all glasses and frames? Is it about I’s or ‘you’s or the quintessential ‘me’s? Disaster Management maybe.

But yes, again the situation is desperate. You classify the alternative solutions into primary and secondary solutions as per your intellect that you feel which solution should be primary and which of those poor desperate attempts to survival are secondary or vice versa. And all get down to the ultimate solution of cracking the case. Here…let me remind you, as I might have swerved miles from where I was, i.e. at the tip of the iceberg. Should I bribe one of those penguins to piggybacking me to the shore with a shoal of fish? But where do I find the fish…. as a matter of fact where are the penguins I can feed with fish that in turn would piggyback me to the shore? Then I can always try use the SOS but then it reminds me of the song “Who will save your souls”. Being so guilt-ridden throughout our lives who will save our souls for the lies that we told! Hallelujah!

Which leads to another solution of praying to god…A multitude of humanity does that in times of desperation like these. They call it faith. And then they grow old. And they say it works. Probably it works to kill time, when it comes to waiting through a reckoning of hapless extermination. You don’t believe me? Look at what the Vedas say about Vridha-avastha and you’ll know. Look at the hordes of religious channels of all sects preaching alternate ways to attain god or in more subtle terms of better living. I call it the New Wave Of Indian Spiritualism. But I won’t ask you to try that here, where I am; at the tip of the iceberg. Nothing is working here, degrees, qualifications, nor bribery nor religion. As the ice melts inch by inch…I’m going down down down. I am not even carrying a bottle to leave a letter of my ranting behind. I just feel the frost biting into me and the icy water touching my feet. Down I go into the subzero. Every function in my body is taking an effort…Hypothermia strikes! I am sinking…Life is…Gasp Gasp…Blurp Blurp…Bubble Bubble……@#*$!@#$@..................@#@......................................blurp.

Holier than Thou

People blame a particular section of society for an act of terror, and the sentiments of dissent has and will run deep for years to come. In India, there was a certain haplessly opportunist of a President back in 1947 whose ugly move we still have to bear through. People are divided upon religion because of the relics or so called ‘beholders of faith’ like the Maulanas from SIMI (A students muslim foundation) and Sudarshan who heads RSS (a totally tyrannical Hindu outfit with regressive and outdated principles).

Islam and Vedanta are two profound studies which preach of God and the ways to attain godliness. Still how can it be that they engage people towards fanaticism?

Christianity has the vaguest and yet simplest of all doctrines. Buddhism is mistakenly thought as the religion of peace and compassion. Ask the Neo-Buddhist and you will know. The very lunacy of religion lies in the fact that one man’s god is another’s devil.

It is not hard to follow a religion of convenience. And if you are a clergyman, it is not hard to turn a well found religion into a religion of convenience as well. So all the lawlessness, acts of terror, brutality against animals and men is accounted for people who are godless. But not following any religion, according to many would be blasphemous and makes one an outlaw. But does everyone go about terrorizing and rampaging daily peace? On the contrary most acts of ghastly deeds have been performed by believers of religion. The Spanish Inquisition and witch hunts by the Christians, the forceful conversions by Muslims through the centuries, and recent fanatical acts by the Hindu Right wing.

With the advent of a flurry of spiritual channels featuring ‘godmen’ and clergymen giving away religious discourses with divine confidence, it makes me sit, watch and wonder. How necessary it is to have FAITH! It is the only Hope and Shelter. It’s the provider of Solace. Take away FAITH from your life and everything is lost. We have been programmed in such a way.

And I try to believe.

Human Order (Lega Kya?)

I walk in to an upclass coffee bar or restaurant. There are three of us. I say waving, in a very friendly tone "Please could you take the order?" My other friend Gautam says ,"Order Please" in a very matter-of-fact straightout manner. And then there is Satya who says "CHOO CHOO ORDER LEGA KYA? (will you take the order?) Its Satya's time-proven way which gets us what we need.

Everybody likes to boss around. Every person likes to be heard as well. Still there are people who like to be bossed upon.

(Sweet dreams are made of these....

Some of them want to use you....

Some of them wanna get used by you.

Some of them want to abuse you

Some of them wanna be abused!

Sometimes we find a very humble and meek person behaving in a very different and unlikely manner. The reason is that it becomes his ardent and urgent need to satisfy his ego, which finds its way in doing so. Think of Hitler. Think of Fidel Castro. They all started out humble but smart introverts.

No one likes to be a doormat.

Here, let me ask a very vital question: Does doing precise things for someone without questioning, revolting or questioning make you a doormat?

One more question: Why does it become necessary to be a bit of an autocrat to organize and direct things your way?

Leaders are the ones who are great orators, teachers, motivators, organizers and keepers of people’s faith. One can’t be a leader if he doesn’t have all these qualities. If things are meant to be in a certain way...then it definitely has be in that way and no other. And Leaders know the way. Leaders streamline everyone’s thoughts and actions. So if you FOLLOW THE LEADER, you follow the right path. That means you believe in him. All said and done. Then why do they (leaders) get the tag of being a Dictator or an Autocrat?

According to Maslow, Man is constantly working towards satisfying his needs. The needs range from the very basic to the highest of all needs i.e. self-actualization. The needs are in order of the most basic needs like physical, to social and psychological which come much later.

FOOD WATER SHELTER SEX (physiological)

SECURITY AND SAFETY (psychological)

LOVE AND RELATIONSHIPS (social and self-esteem)

SELF-ACTUALIZATION (this need depends on creativity and brainpower)

The final two needs are subjective and totally depends on the human environment and his nature.

There is one more theory (whose, I don’t remember) but it says humans are of two types:

TYPE A:

Humans are pathologically lazy

They have to be coaxed to work

They fear punishment and hence they are bound to work.

TYPE B:

Humans are hard working by nature.

They constantly work towards realizing their dreams.

They are hugely motivated for better gains.

Well when I look at it, I feel that TYPE B are rare. TYPE A are found in abundance. TYPE A requires autocratic treatment which I see in everyday life. I have seen people lagging behind for the lack of proper direction. I am no Jesus Christ but still it has helped every time I have intervened. This leads me to black books of people. They find it hard to understand that without precise control, workflow lags. I am no Dictator though.

I just try to bring things under control. Otherwise I am inert and you see me sitting quiet at a corner engrossed in deep ponder.

Whatever happened to the school of thought belonging to spiritual gurus, who preach "Love Peace and Tenderness" ?

Or is it India? Or it might be what Satya says, Just BALANCE!

49%

49% of ministers in India are vote hungry megalomaniacs. Rest of them have their votes assured. (Am being too sympathetic here? )


49% of operations and medical treatment in India are surgical mishaps. Or else we would not have heard regular reports of cotton guages and scissors found in the poor unsuspecting guts of needy patients. Call it bloke-headedness or sheer ignorance. When the brilliance of so many doctors pave way to wrong diagnoses leading to more suffering and financial waste borne by the patient and his family, think of what the 49% not-so-brilliant-so-called-underpriviledged-branded denim clad reserved candidates would come out with...Maybe whole operation tool kits! There is but just one word for these, Dr. QUACK.


49% of quality time should be dedicated to protests by students. They should be shown snippets and doumentaries of Netaji Subhash Bose, Tinnamen Square Tragedy, Che Guevara, WWII, etc. Student "revolutions" and " uprisings" should be more of a regular feature all over the world, especially in India. Also special screenings of neo-idealistic films like YUVA, Rang De Basanti, The Motorcycle Diaries, Michael Collins, etc. should be encouraged in college auditoriums.


49% of the democracy in India is Facist.


I have been a quota victim years back. I feel the pangs of rejection due to caste bias. And I've felt the anger towards the OBCs, SCs, STs, NTs who smiled into glory with the assurance of engineering and medical seats in premier colleges. The whole idea of caste bias is put to full use by pathological egoists we call ministers. They still DIVIDE AND RULE.

Disclaimer: Flog The Blog


This blog does not contain material from elsewhere. They are my life incidences and dreams.

They might be disturbing for few sections of society and walks of life. But my voices don't know how to please.

My will is good.

The voices do not belong to any group pertaining to religions, politics, cults, beliefs, et al. Do not whine to me. Either cry alone or to your members.

Posts would be shamelessly, mercilessly, ironically, satirically, comically and erotically true. Nothing but Brutal Truth. Voices.

Signed By:

Demonos.

28th May 2006.

Read the Disclaimer well!!!

Finally. My blog. My own mindspace. Say the proliferation of knowledge or pure trashbin material. Do I care??? he he. (Chris tucker VOICE: he he This feels good man...like I'm on prime time! Momma...HI!) Sorry...I've told you about them.


Voice: Need to shave, shower and go for jamming...not now Roy. You have a lot say but let it flow through...not on this beautiful sunday evening.


Morbid hails here I come MOFOS!!!

Friday, March 9, 2007

The mushroom hysteria


I heard the earth thundering below our feet and rising ahead of us in terror. It was a beautiful sight.

- Dr. Abdul Kalam Azad, President of India. (May 1998)


The radiance of a thousand suns…burst into the sky.

I am become death. The destroyer of worlds.

- J. Robert Oppenhiemer, principal architect of the world’s first nuclear explosion. (16th July 1945)


The most terrifying monster lurking in the darkness of Hiroshima.

- Kenzaburo Oe, Japanese writer.


The whole mountain turned white.

- Pakistani government, June 1998.


The nuclear tests have been hugely popular, particularly among the urban middle class.

- Pankaj Mishra, security Advisor, India.


The tests have divided the country more deeply than ever.

- Amitav Ghosh, novelist.


Our cities and forests, our fields and villages will burn for days. Rivers will turn into poison. The air will become fire. The wind will spread flames. When everything there is to burn is burnt and the fires die, smoke will rise and shut out the sun.

- Arundhati Roy, Author.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Thus Spake Demonos

This was spoken to a self-proclaimed clairvoyant.

Love cannot be just once; it only means that you are too tired to love. I have thought about that and then I learnt and rediscovered myself. I felt, I didn't have an identity. However, today as I stand with all my insecurities and uncertainties, I still am half way to know who I am. I have gone through deceit and denial on several occasions. I have gone through humiliation, separation, pain and agony…and now I come clean. I am detached and I find peace in it. I respect everyone's feelings.

I have learnt to let go; letting go is the biggest of all attainable pleasures for me that I derive. Be it letting go of a bus, a train, a good movie, a lover, a potential life partner, a nice job. I don’t think on that, hence I’m happy :) I am almost an urban ascetic; I yearn to live a life of the mountains. Sometimes there are disturbances, when people say that ‘you love yourself and nobody else’. Well if you can’t love yourself, I would say you can’t love anybody else. I used to hate myself to the extent of putting my self to pain and oblivion. Even near experiences of putting myself unto death’s embrace. Then I realised humility. Those ego barriers are futile and unnecessary. I used to hate myself but not anymore. Years have changed me; that’s all I need to know. I can’t live for the future; I try to live in the present as much as possible. Hence I am never interested to know what’s in store for me in the future like how my folks and other people want. So, I never asked and will never do. If I get to know what is in store for me, then I might break down and lose it.

Life was never a 9-5 job, a wife and a kid and aging parents for me. It can’t be.
All these things have been done for millions of years and still being done.

I don’t fall in all this, I say this not because I’ m superior or pretend to be strikingly different or something like that. But because there is a deeper reason why I was sent here. And I seek that very purpose.