Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 06, 2020

The Missing Rainbow

Photo Courtesy: Google

Deaths are defeating lives.
Diseases are endangering survival.

Everything has changed around us.

Conversations muted. Movement limited. Socializing curtailed. Freedom denied.

The windows are open; the rays of sun are in; the birds are chirping; but human voices have gone missing.

The doors are open; the breeze is in; the dry leaves of plants and trees are flying in; but humans aren’t walking in.

The world seems to stand divided between – Inner and Outer world.

Everything has come to a standstill.

Happiness seems to have vanished.

Time has paused.

The car, which was left parked after a road trip hasn’t gone beyond the housing colony. The air pressure in the tyres is decreasing every day. The fuel tank is on the verge of running dry. The bike, which is in urgent need of servicing is stationary.

Vacations stand cancelled. Engagements and weddings stand postponed.

We have lost half of March, the whole of April and few parts of May.

Our financial scenario looks pale. Our emotional scenario appears scarred.

Queues are to be seen; outside wine shops, ration shops, police stations, offices of local political leaders. Some want to get drunk; some wish to continue staying overstocked; some are willing to go home; some are still eager to seek privileges.

Trains have stopped running. Flights have stopped taking off. Vehicles have stopped moving between cities, districts, states and countries. Ships are anchored at the shores; there are no immediate signs or symbols of them sailing anytime sooner.

Exams have been cancelled. Projects have been stalled. Employment opportunities have been thinning out. The processes of recruitment have been slowing down.

We made some noise. We lit some candles. We did every possible thing to keep the crisis away. But, strangely the crisis seems far from getting over. Every single day, the crisis keeps growing, multiplying.

Deaths are defeating lives. Diseases are endangering survival.

Hotels aren’t available to stay. Restaurants aren’t serving. Sea beaches are sealed. Resorts are shut.

Once upon a time, this life seemed like a colorful rainbow. The rainbow has gone missing.
Right now, desperately seeking The Missing Rainbow.

- Virtuous Vociferous | May 06 | May Blog-1 | What If | 2020

Monday, August 07, 2017

ABRUPT LOVE STORIES

Picture Courtesy: Google Images
The time has come to bid adieu to sugarcoated love stories. In my opinion, all the visible sweetness is mere illusion. Or somewhere we are still trying to convince ourselves to stay believed in pretentiously sweet love stories! But they aren’t sweet. The line between love and lust hasn’t blurred but it has vanished forever. It is this cusp that makes me realize that love stories aren’t tender any more. Thankfully I have accepted the fact and I am not convincing myself to try narrating a sweet love story ever again.

My abrupt love stories take place between a Certain He and a Certain She. They don’t have a name. They are invisible to your naked eyes but omnipresent. Do they believe in religion? Are they victims of communal tension or soft targets of fluctuating faiths. Do they pray? Or they are happy being atheists! Are they rich or poor? Do they indulge in sex? Are they bisexual, homosexual, heterosexual, metrosexual? Are they sound, sane and in control? Or simply rebellious, wild hippies! Do they smoke and drink? Do they sleep with different people on different occasions? Have they been living under the same roof or they have been renting apartments in numerous cities, and disappearing without clearing dues for months! Frankly speaking they are an interesting twosome of a Certain He and a Certain She.

Both characters are a sum of their vices. Before He knows it, She is already done plotting something against him. By the time She comes to know of a certain action, He outsmarts her by being constantly, lethally active against her. I haven’t met these two characters in person. But I have met their exact opposites in the many journeys I have smoothly or abruptly embarked upon. Be it the certain He or the certain She that I am talking about, I know them of being emotionally unattached to each other.

The Certain He and the Certain She I have been talking about hide nothing from themselves or the society. They live within the stories and breathe within the stories. At the end of the day, their stories, which are so abrupt by nature, continue to matter the most.

Abrupt Love Stories are my hottest obsession, passionate possession and unmistakably my most favorite creation. Will these abrupt love stories culminate into a book? I am not even thinking of it right now. What if someone tries to copy them or copy the style? Did I say the stories are not getting copied, shared or reproduced? And I would never say that the style is yet a virgin. Thankfully, if searched by the hash tag #AbruptLoveStories; most of the results and almost all the results bring into fore my series of Abrupt Love Stories.

When I started writing the couplets with the hash tag attached to them, a few eyebrows were raised. But these are my #AbruptLoveStories and why should I reveal the source of my inspiration? If you wish to know more about these stories, follow the simple path – READ THEM, FEEL THEM, LIVE THEM.

All the love stories, which are abrupt in nature derive inspiration from the hidden side of the lives, we live without sharing a thing about them. My interest stays anchored deep in there. Where else but that little seed of abruptness, I observe in the love stories that most of us are faking like fake orgasms on a bad night of abrupt sex. Therefore if you come across a love story that’s sweet; chuck it and suck up one abrupt love story at a time.


-Virtuous Vociferous

Monday, June 26, 2017

RAINS ETCETERA

1.55 AM of June 26, 2017 is possibly the same time, the previous day (June 25), the rains debuted. The drizzles of Friday evening, the onslaught of Thursday or the suddenness of Wednesday stood nowhere closer to what ensued last night; continued to surprise till today afternoon. Rains, we thought are here. But by 1.55 AM of June 26, 2017 the show put up by the rains lack the ferocity, velocity and audacity of last night.

Did the earth hatch a conspiracy to attract rains? Is this then the annual moment of romance? Speaking of romance, I can only think of Raveena Tandon causing Yellow Fever in Tip tip barsaa paani (Akshay Kumar literally rolling and drooling around her).

Thankfully no political party has claimed responsibility for the instant burst of happiness insured by these rains.  Thankfully no terrorist groups have threatened of being in secret possession of weapons, which can trigger massive rains at the drop of a hat.

At this interesting juncture, I think rains come with their own package of etcetera (etc.).

As the rains swell, the pulse rate of Mumbai’s local train network drops. Even though the spirits of travellers and train spotter updaters like me fly high, the trains prefer to take it easy. This being one part of the package, we aren’t downplaying the possibilities of traffic snarls. Many of us blame it on the rains. But these snarls are necessary during monsoons. Or else air and noise pollution won’t breed. Would we really like to see them fail at producing their usual off springs of anguish, irritability and disasters?    

Trees are the permanent subscribers of rains package of etcetera. They keep on putting weight all year long. Just when they expect the municipal authorities to help them tone their body a little, their trust is left betrayed. So when the rains descend they activate the package and start falling on cars, humans, electricity cables, telephone wires and at times on themselves.

When rains dwindle, I am reminded of the seminars on climate change. I love the venues, the speakers, their sessions and the hosts who keep pouting at television cameras. If the talks held in these seminars are real, do they also work towards decreasing the impact of etcetera?

Thirty minutes into writing this and the rains have retracted. But mind you, the package of etcetera hasn’t.

I heard the dogs bark and see them running in pursuit of a hefty catch? I only hope they don’t spare its life. Because if they do, the rains might make it rot and the package of etcetera might grow hefty. We may have to pay an extra premium of tolerating the strange stench. Dogs are illiterate. They only understand the language of love and the unconditional freedom to poop.

The rains will recuperate; we can hope at least. The package of etcetera though requires rethinking.

Till it rains again, I am thinking of ordering etcetera online (much before GST slaps in).

-Virtuous Vociferous

Monday, July 11, 2016

AT THE STROKE OF RANDOM THOUGHTS

I believe life is a journey of random thoughts.

Thoughts that last for a second and the ones that last for a lifetime.

It is only at the stroke of some random thoughts that I chose to share mine from today and few from the days, not many calendar years ago.

Random Thought #1

An hour back, the dogs got grumbling again; not one of the rare patterns that I am not well acquainted with. But this event keeps repeating itself. Unusually these fights break out during this specific hour of a crossover, from a Sunday to the Blues-day (Monday). These conflicts break through the silence of the night. I appoint the lamp in my bedroom the official spokesperson to anchor the unspoken hours, of an otherwise noisy night. One random thought after the other, is this how this night plans to reveal yet another day? Bow, vow, woof, hoof; there go the dogs again. Either hungry or horny, they are going to stop at none.

Random Thought #2

If I am asked what my favourite colour is, I will be heard announcing yellow as my first choice, only to be followed by red, maroon, brick red and neon red. At times, I spend hours explaining my fondness for black and white. Therefore you will not be left with a doubt to see me drive a white car. It’s a cosy little, spacious car. It goes by the name of Zen Estilo and sports a tattoo too – Mom’s Pride, Our Honour.  My car is not just my car; it’s also our family’s first car. Fresh from a new scratch and slapped by the failing veins of its AC, it drove us through the highway, saved us from the potholes, left us feeling rich with the experience of moody monsoons. As the winds blew, the downpour grew fiercer and the muddy waters flowed thicker, the car chose to run tougher. Either angry or ambitious, our car is just another story in making.

Random Thought #3

I remember seeing her in the hospital. I have known her mother for years now. We have been colleagues first and then friends. My mother had accompanied me to the hospital. The nurses had wrapped this bundle of joy in the softest clothes. Her mother, my friend held her tenderly and gently placed her in my arms. For three minutes that I held her, I was overcome by countless emotions. As she kept growing, her mother shared her stories. We attended her first birthday, skipped her second and maybe forgot her third. But she kept growing. Today she is in the second grade. Initially she ran shy of me, locked herself in the kitchen and didn’t reveal herself till the time I had left their apartment. Today as I flashed my smartphone and told her, “This is an apple.” The same shy girl came closer and replied, “Uncle, if this is an apple, shouldn’t you be eating it instead of confusing it as a phone?” I am yet to recover from this innocent question of hers. I think I will never have a reply to this question of hers because every object of our desire makes us its ardent slave. Ira, I salute you.

Random Thought #4

In the year 2008, Nikhil and I were in Goa. For the five days that we stayed there, we explored every corner of Goa that made us imagine a million things about it. We went on a river cruise, we drove on Hero Honda Splendour, we observed the mannerisms of foreigners and secretly saw some Indians ape the American tanning ways. On the second last day, we were told that we can spot dolphins, if we delve deep. The boat might have taken us to the spot where dolphins supposedly take a plunge or two; we saw none. Years later, while attending a seminar, I heard someone whisper, “Did you see those dolphins?” I was at my wit’s end. I was attending a scholarly talk and I had heard someone talk dolphins. Before I could react pretending to be irritated by the small talk, I saw her walk in and she carried those two dolphins with utter grace. I don’t remember the year and neither do I remember seeing the woman again. But I am sure the tattoo of those two dolphins on her arms might still be busy making her look more beautiful than ever. My first encounter with tattoos and the spell they cast.

Random Thought #5

If migration makes you famous then I too had migrated a year back to a new city. Three hours away from Mumbai, I had made Pune my home. But my migration didn’t make me a celebrity like other cities could have possibly managed to. My migration was always pregnant with the sensation of feeling detached. On weekends, I would rush home like a child rushes back from a boarding school. For the five days that I would stay in Pune, I hated being a stranger to some realities. There were very few honest faces, which surrounded me and my thoughts; they still are a part of my life. But the city failed to make me a celebrity. I wish I had shifted to some other place, as they say Bengaluru is much happening. There's always that city away from the city we live in, which feels a little lonely and sometimes a lot more homely. But my home will be Mumbai and the only other city that I can survive in happily is Kolkata. Of the two, which one is my favourite? Oh don’t compel me to make a choice between my two mother cities.

Random Thought #6

He was fond of smoking. Tea kept him energetic. He was smarter than me. In his 50s, he was handsome and still desirable. Today he would have turned 69. But he chose to leave handsome rather than live through the oddities of time. No matter, how against I was to his many thoughts, he will continue being the hero. Even today, he is famous as Hitler in our hometown. He would have continued being famous as Hitler in future too. Such was his temperament and such was his obsession with a disciplined life. Happy Birthday to you Baba; I will keep missing you on every July 10.

It’s 1 AM. Before I could sense it, Monday had barged into my mobile phone reminding me that sleep offers no discounts. And in this journey of random thoughts, I wish to wander more, learn more; see the dolphins bounce again, doesn’t matter in which form – either real or in the form of a tattoo again.

-Virtuous Vociferous