Behind-the-scenes ( Draft autosaved at 6:56 )

Golden as the heat, out of the sands,
Lustrous amid wavering air,
A human form.
The slow-mo is turned on
Besides, men are also turned on.

Formulating success / Past Forward

Music moves on. Mostly inappropriately. But there is that undertone that still remains wholesome. Close my eyes.
********************
Moments wait anxiously. Somewhere else, thousands have gathered to celebrate the arrival of new hopes. In some other beds, men might have already turned into predators. I look onto that sea of decorated blackness only to realise that it doesn't make much of a difference whatever day it is.

********************

Another bubble blackened. I turn over the paper and see the questions stretch even further. Flustered, I decide to give this test a miss. My eyes look over his shoulder and directs the hand to darken a few more of the bubbles.

*********************

"Happy birthday! No wonder that Tsunami also occured this day." , followed by a smug. As a reply I get to hear playful gaaliyaan.
In the midst of the conversation I remind her that the buji cousin of mine has left for Delhi in search of greener pastures to exercise his mind on.

**********************

We nine are on the field. The ground is new to us. Robustly built guys are on the opposite half. " We aren't playing for money, are we ? " I hear someone say. I wriggle a couple of times just to let myself know that I am going to play. I run to my position. A few minutes later, the kick is taken and as usual Anand passes it straight onto me.

***********************

I sit in that tensed room. Last minute revamps occur incessantly. And I stand up and consciously leave my head blank. The hands are stretched out to unravel the mystery that question paper would present for one last time this Christmas.

************************

The music has been played for over seven times as I script "the future already in store."

PS- Yeah, its available for just 990 now. ;)

Breaks and Reminders

Cannot stop reminding myself how stupid I am. I accept, okay ?! That seems to settle it. Now, I can breathe free and write what I want to.
There are a lot of stops. Drinks breaks, unwarranted breaks, unreasonable ones and so on. Well, infact, the only thing there is, are breaks. The only thought that I keep reminding myself I have is ' I want to break free ' . Ofcourse, I have no idea what it is that I want to get away from. Given the oppurtunity, I think it would be myself.
I hope I could 'stand-by' and get up after this academic year ends. Well, its not as if I am not trying but mother keeps waking me up.
Now, there is this chemistry ma'm I am answerable to for not attending (the classes) for the past one month. I try to convince myself that I dont have to give any excuse because I am beyond her jurisdiction. They say there is something called social etiquettes. A thing quite hard to conceive.
Then there is this maths sir whose classes I have been not attending for, well, the past one month too. And to him, I am not answerable coz even he doesn't know it. But there is this lingering fear that he would catch me by the scruff of the neck oneday. Whoof......
And here I am sitting. Can't stop from putting on a smile, in hindsight. Uthaale ya phenk de, le le ya chod de
Then there is this small business of a career which everybody reminds me of.

There is this frustration of hurting the near and dear ones. The guilt that refuses to go away. I retort, to no avail. I refuse to accept, with the same result. I do nothing but make a big fuss about it and confess to the person I like confessing to, yet without any use. I dream of being a footballer just so that I could get away from this. I crave for a company that I get. So now I crave for anything that I could genuinely feel hard done by. I dream of being a successful writer, so that I can do the thing I like the most, which is, nothing. For that, I have to move men's hearts. Why can't you bloddy assholes read all that I am writing and be in awe of it and give me a job offer. Preferably, 30k per month salary.
Rot, rot, rot. Pester, pester, pester I don't know what more to say. Drifting off from truth, masking everything by revealing the mask. Suffocating purely because of no reason. Just suffocating because I claim myself to be suffocating. Accusing myself of being a dufus, an illiterate, someone who only sleeps, eats, and the other primal things. The only thing that I like is to be entertained. Is it much ? Can't sustenance and entertainment go hand in hand. I know its my outlook thats causing every trouble.

Well, Give me a break. A smile and shake of the head

Musings of a Ringworm Infected Underwear.

Inflated , Deflated.
Elated , Depressed.
Irritated , satisfied.
Boiled , spiralled out.
What more ? What next ?

Fast-paced / Flash-backward

Someone interrupts the confessions. Caught unawares, subject says she was speaking to an alarm. The alarming inability of the subject to lie straight-faced baffles me. The consequences lie in wait.

Now, I am jumping down aisles. James Bond has stepped on the gas. Quite unlike him, I finally manage to sit down on a vacant seat in the rear balcony. While all he has to worry about is existence, I've got to be wary of the ticket inspector.

I see Ganguly fend off the ball with his pads. I look at what he has scored . 32* . And suddenly it dawns on me going for the Quantum wouldn't be a bad idea. Grab the first shirt and 200 Rs.

I have a flashbang in my hands. I throw it wide out. Quite unexpectedly, I become blinded by it. I badly want to go for that gaming thinggy. I see a counter-terrorist's head poke from those crates. Didn't quite get the headshot.

The football blinks at me. Then, to my foot. A dribble and a cross aimed at no one particular. Sneer from the opposition, disappointment from mine.

Pulse races. My body oscillates. Wired to the subject responsible, through analog signals. Voices, sweet, excited, run amok.

I cross the ball, the leg gets it. Netted again. Greeted with cheers. Someone from opposition remarks ' Mark him. Else, if he gets it beyond the half, just add the tally'. I warm up to them.

Now, I think about the movie 'Memento'. I think of the scene they show the whole video running backward but the sound runs forward. How would it be if I were to put it into writing ?

Arrangements * I hate this post* *Yet Cant seem to delete it*

I thought about writing out my frustrations. Lying on top of 4 benches stacked together in lieu with a double-cot bed, I got this romantic idea of getting up and scribbling some words in the school diary. The lone window in the room displayed a sprawling green field. I awed at it not because it was beautiful, but the whole idea now seemed to be well-scripted. Here I was, alone in a fan-less class, the whole world beneath, celebrating young talents.

No, No. The whole idea of writing out the moments that I experienced before is quite difficult. You know what happened as I was lying there. I felt the urge to tell something to somebody. I didn't know who the somebody was and what to tell him/her. I got up and went over to get the pen and sat beside the window, feeling the noon sun on my face, to write. But nothing came. I was racking my head too hard, I told myself. But then I realised why nothing came. I wasn't sitting there to write, I was sitting there to advertise myself. You know, I hoped that the girls would come and see me there. But, obviously, no one did.

Infact, two of the guys did come and I hastily stacked the diary away. Writing is usually met with the same gaze that I guess only gays would have felt before. And so, I went back to lying-on-top-of-bench thinggy.
**************************
I am in the bus now. Street lights flash by. Inside, the ear is taking a beating. I want to join in the party. But the fact that I decided not to, is holding me back. You can't just scream out all of a sudden, you have to do it from the beginning.
I hear a conversation amidst all the yelps.
" Hey people, where are we ?"
"I dunno. The last I saw was Venjarammood "
" Does that mean we would reach the school in half-an-hour ? I have to inform my mother, if so."
" I guess it would take about 45 minutes from here "
" Okay. Tell me when we reach the place it becomes half-an-hour to "

Thats the only time I laugh during the journey. But dunno why :-??

**************************
"Yeah, if you haven't noticed, it's all because of you. You dragged me onto the place. You know I had no intention of coming and you know that you were the sole reason I did. And then, you run off unmindful of me."

" Sorry, what could I do to make it upto you ? "

Two minutes later, the line is disconnected.

***************************

I have to go for tutions after 3 hours. There is fear, insecurity, frustration and optimism. Well, Frustration is the leading one. I'll let you know what will come forth. Somewhere, someone would be watching Oppana feeling quite the same. Some other person, would be feeling quite the same for an entirely different reason. Some one else, would be unmindful of the fact that they would have to go on centre-stage to collect the prize of an unrelated person, who chose not to go for the prize distribution ceremony.

Boooboo

Funny place, all over here

Clouds, punctuation marks, sneezes and breaths

Ideas, revolts, tramps and trams

Millipedes, Winnipeg and even more

Makes no sense, no odds and nothing else too

Space tears itself apart into shards of blackness

The torn don't fall, they crash around me

The cause just goes, I can't see it coming home.

The moments die, I hear no SCREAMING.

And I know I don't mean anything too.

Beats up, lights down, enter liquid mobility

blessed with thousand fertile dreams.

Pace falls, the eye palls, self-inquiries arise

And Lashed out of existence again. ;)

Words crawl beneath the thoughts

Scratching their heads and tails

Hoping for a way they could make sense

Wired in with music, akin to Viagra's job.

Blasts of emotions, glances and damns

Eat onto me and overturn the skin,

Long nights in short days, overcrowded;

with selves, all in war, yet all as one

Choked, gawked, yawed, and yawned at.

But won't let go for fear of pain

Yet, bound to the wounding ecstasy.

Oh yeah!

Blah blah!

booodo....Voodoo.....Boobbooo

And that's it!

People are a problem

How I see things as of now.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Flashes of glimpses. Writhe. A long terrace. Some one at the far end. Vision closes.

Some boy looks on. I mumble incoherently. He still looks on. I yell.

The eyes spring up in life. He comes into light. I smile, and look over his shoulder to where his mom tends to the bushes.

Pushing aside his inquiries, I ruffle his feathery hair. I can tell he is not content with my replies. 'No matter how long I have seen her, she still has that angelic charm, your mother'
We kneel beside her and look across the vastly stretched paddy fields. The sky is as blue as June ever could have hoped for and the monsoon is to set in within three months.
'What was it that you were shouting ? '
I hesitate and tell her that its a bad dream. I keep ruffling his hairs,
'You know, somewhere, someone is not happy'

He looks quizzically. She tends to her bushes.
********************************

Flashes of glimpses. Writhe. A long terrace. Some one at the far end. Vision closes.

Some boy looks on. I mumble incoherently. He still looks on. I yell.

The eyes spring up in life. The bed comes into light. Drowsily, I take the alarm clock and try to settle my gaze on the time. Ma's yells already ring out to me. Burying myself in the pillow, I try to recollect what the dream was about.
A beautiful lady. Me living at my old home. Some stair cases. Now where did the staircases come from ? All the little snippets slip out of my grasp.
" Da, get up, study one hour"
I yawn at her.
"Please"
Of recent times, even while I dream, I realise that its a dream. I sulk a few paces across to get a sip of tea. The mirror shows my overgrown hair stretched across the ears. I try to give it as much a presentable look as possible.
The drenched walls of our neighbour's becomes my new object of interest. Heard some new folk have rented it. A sheepish grin and I leave the room.