Why?

The biggest challenge in life is to understand love.

It’s not a technical piece of information but its equally challenging. The reason why I think people don’t understand it is because people try to do it. They are desperately making an attempt to understand it.

There’s so much written, read, analyzed, spoken about it that everyone in the world seems to be trying too hard to crack it.

Ground rules:

Say ‘I love you’, at least once a day. What the heck? Don’t u f<>#% know it?

Call. Why? Isn’t the feeling enough? That someone loves you?

Be there. You can’t really define this one. Calling, meeting nothing is enough.

All I want to say is if you love someone, it stays. For life. That defines you. That makes you understand the world better. That makes you feel special. That makes you happy. That brings a smile on your face.

But here we are, trying to feel more loved, trying to reason it out, trying to enjoy the feeling. In the process, ending up doing jackshit!

It’s simple. When you know you love someone and that someone knows you love him/her, that’s it. It’s a feeling. Not a science report. Don’t reason it.

Trust me. These seem like only words and you Think you are already doing it. Trust me, no one is. And its more difficult than making rocket fuel.

आपकी याद

आपकी याद आती रही, रात भर,
चश्म-ऐ-नम मुस्कुराती रही, रात भर ।

रंग-औ-बू की पहचान हमें रही ता-उम्र,
सारी इल्म डगमगाती रही, रात भर।

वस्ल का वास्ता दिया हिज्र को,
तमन्ना मात खाती रही, रात भर ।

रंगत का सबब आईना पूछता रहा,
नाम तेरा झुठलाती रही, रात भर ।

अश्कों को धमका रखा था, तो,
चश्म-ऐ-नम मुस्कुराती रही, रात भर ।

उसे छूना है

Sensual: Gulzar style

उसके जिस्म के रुओं के एहसास की प्यास, इन उँगलियों की मुलायम सी सतह को है,
रूह चाहती उसे किसी वजह से नही, इश्क़ तो फ़कत उसी वजह से है ।


Romantic: Prasoon joshi style

मन करता है, हथेलियों को हथेलियों में, उँगलियों को उँगलियों में, खो दूँ,
मेरी हँसी वो हँसे, मैं उसके आंसू रो दूँ,
उसके नाखूनों के उगते सूरज की रंगत, मैं अपने नाखूनों में बो दूँ ।

Romantic: Normal

उसकी छुअन का एहसास साँसों में घुला है, रंग कुछ अलग ... मिला-जुला है ।
दिल है की जिद्द पे अडा है, उसके जिस्म के एहसास को महसूस करने पे तुला है ।

A new day - Prelude - Book 1 - Draft 3

It was a beautiful morning.

Rohan's eyes were still sleepy. He was smiling. A smile that was pure, serene and flawless. He had seen everything. Broken promises, made new ones and broken them again. He had no regrets. About anything. And absolutely no complaints.

He knew he was responsible for a lot of strained relationships and a lot of incomplete emotions.

Thats how all of us are. Life is about incompleteness.

His mind was at peace. No thoughts, no images, no naked school girls... nothing. He was not thinking about anyone. His heart was at peace. He was at peace.

Without an iota of change in his expression, he tightened the grip on the knife, which was already half-buried into the veins of his left hand.

This is going to be a little difficult. The up and down movement of the knife. But thats how everything in life is. A 'little' difficult.

He slowly moved the knife. Up. Down. Up. Down. The smile was brighter now.

He then artistically bent the upper portion of the knife, so that it sinks further deep into his wrist. And it did. Now, it was the lower portion. The blood flew. It felt relieved. For the first time, it was set free.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

The first ray of light touched Rohan's eyelashes. The smell of the light was mesmerising. Rohan knew it would absorb the droplet of water from his eyelash. It would absorb the darkness, thus the impurities.

Within seconds his room was lit. His gaze moved from his hand to rachna. She was still asleep. The light trying to wake her up. She blocked the light by her hand. The sheet barely covered her body.

She is beautiful. The most beautiful woman on the planet.

He did not want to blink. He wanted to keep looking at her body. He wanted to feel the warmth of her body against his. He loved her.

He tightened the grip even further and this time the action was vigorous. This time, he knew, he wont lose.

He saw the view outside. Yet again.

A new day in my life. A beautiful new day.

आज

आज पैरों के तलवे भीगे से लगते हैं

नाखूनों के आस-पास पड़े पानी के छींटे से लगते हैं

निकली थी खुरदरी ज़मीन पर उसकी तलाश में

उसके एहसास फकत से ये पैर आसमान पर पड़े से लगते हैं

कल गुजरी थी इसी चौराहे से, सड़कें भागती थी,

आज सारे मोड़ खड़े से लगते हैं

उँगलियों की गिटियाँ मुलायम सी,

हथेली की रेखाओं के सारे मोड़ नए से लगते हैं

कभी

आंखों से कभी ख्वाहिशें तो की होती,

ज़िंदगी कभी फकत लम्हों में ही जी होती

अश्कों का हिसाब तो रखा उम्र भर,

कभी मुस्कुराहटों की गिनती भी की होती.

आज फिर हवा के झोंकों ने जगा दिया,

काश उनसे इतनी दुश्मनी न ली होती.

मिटते गए निशाँ, बुझती गई आहटें,

साँसों की दीवानगी, खुदा ने इन्हें भी बख्शी होती.

उसने तो निभाई खुदाई अपनी

हमने कभी बंदगी तो की होती.

जज्बातों का सबब ही तलाशते रहे,

जज्बातों की कद्र तो की होती.

अकेले मोड़ पर अकेले खड़े, सोचा,

कभी कोई राह तो चुनी होती.

रगों से कुरेद-कुरेद, जुनूँ निकाल दिया,

काश थोडी संजीदगी बरती होती.

The Goddess

She felt like a queen. Pampered… spoilt and loved. Like never before. It was the best days of her life. She was never pampered like this ever before. All her demands were met and all her prayers answered. She slept on a flowerbed, walked on petals. She was the centre of attraction wherever she went.

Her life had changed. For the first time in her life, she looked at herself in the mirror and didn’t bother about the amount of weight she had put on; on her face, arms, and the maximum, on her belly. She moved her hands slowly on the curve of her belly and felt full of life. She felt like a goddess. She felt like a woman. For the first time in her life. She knew she had lived her life for this one moment. For this one emotion that just passed her heart. For this one unexpected smile, that touched her lips, for this one second of womanhood… of divinity… of godliness.

She knew she was capable of doing anything she wanted. She knew she could rule the world. She knew she could make impossible, possible. It took her 28 long years to feel like a woman. To feel like a goddess. To feel like this.

She could feel a heart beating inside her belly, legs moving, hands uncurling... she could feel a life.

“How can I tell her that it’s over? That it’s a reality and not a bad dream. That the baby is over. Finished”

“The doctors have said it’s over Ankit… they say the baby has stopped breathing… his heart has stopped… they don’t know how, why, when… but they say it’s finished… but they say Amrita needs to be operated… how will I ever tell her… she will never live after that… she will die Ankit… she will just die… I can’t afford to lose her… I can’t…” I can’t cry… he will think I am weak.

“I know… I know Saurabh… relax… just calm down… don’t tell Amrita yet… let them operate on her and then we can tell her… let’s just take her to the hospital…” I don’t know what to say.

She was still smiling, lying on the operation table. She could see some sadness in Saurabh’s eyes, from across the glass cabin. She knew he could never handle the sight of her lying on an operation bed… but she could also see the joy in his body language… or is it restlessness?

The moment never died. They looked at each other, through the glass door. She was smiling, he smiled back. It was a moment that will never come back.

He knew it. He had lost his child. She knew it. She will be a mother once she wakes up.

She woke up slowly… eyelids heavy… vision, blurred. Slowly she came back to reality. She smiled. Her eyes moved restlessly and finally rested on Saurabh. He had tears in his eyes. He came and sat next to her on the bed. She began to get worried now… she just wanted to catch one glimpse of her child. She just wanted to hold her child in her arms.

That’s when she heard him cry. A cry she always wanted to hear. Saurabh was surprised at what he saw.

Amrita took the child in her arms. She was a mother. She looked at Saurabh. He was still crying.

He wanted to smile. But he was crying.

Coins

He stood there staring at the reflection of a coin lying at the dashboard of the car. It was a 5 rupee coin. His lips formed a smile. A smile that was sad. He shifted his gaze to the man sitting on the driver's seat and kept looking at him... without blinking. The man was looking elsewhere.

The reflection kept wavering just like the ray of hope in the kid's heart. He knew this was it. All his prayers would be answered. A dream would come true in less than 20 secs now. 19 secs... 18 secs and the signal would turn green and the vehicle will move away. Forever. He knew that if the driver looked at him just once, the coin would be his. 15 secs. 14 secs.

With great courage he tried to touch the reflection. He knew the moment his little palm feels the reflection, it would be a moment of result. Yes or No. 9 secs.

His palm moved slowly towards the reflection and finally they met. He was right. It was a moment of result. 3 secs... 2 secs ...

The car began to move. It was over. That was when the driver saw him. Their eyes met. It was a moment of result. A moment that will never come back. A moment that lasted... for ever.

The man behind the wheel was brought back to reality by the merciless horns from all around. He didnt have the time to react. The car moved away.

He stood there staring at the traffic light. Waiting for it to turn red. Yet again.

Tasveer

Teri aankhon ne banayi thhi jo tasveer,

Uss se thha bas ek gila,

Khoobsurat to thhi behad,

Par uss mein main na thha.

Umr beet gayi chehron mein rang bharte-bharte,

Lekin wo chehra mera na thha.

Teri aankhon ne ...

Ek pal mein har pal ka hisaab,

maang leti hai zindagi,

Afsos mere paas bahikhata na thha.

Teri aankhon ne ...

Tasveer ka har chehra maayoos sa lagta hai,

Ya shayad ye manzar meri aankhon ka thha

Teri aankhon ne ...

Rang tere chehre ka zara aankhon mein bhar loon,

zamaane beete, inn mein se lahu baha na thha.

Teri aankhon ne ...

Gods Don't lie

Thats the cover of my book. the book is still under construction.

hope to finish it soon!

Catch a glimpse of the book here! very soon!

Dosti

Udte pankh pakheru si,

gote khati kaamnayein,

Swaavlambit, aatmnirbhar,

aseem, akhandit si kaamnaayein,

ek chhote se mann mein,

prati kshan ubharti naveen kaamnaayein,

Yeh sab soch raha ek pita ka mann.

Oonghti aankhon se, thami-thami saanson se,

uljhe-uljhe kadamon se chal kar,

jaane kitni himmat juta,

kitni baar, baar-baar amal kar,

anischitta ko jhel kar,

aai hogi paas mere,

te bhi socha hoga, ki kaisi man:stithi hai meri,

kaisi paristithi hai meri,

soorat par nischhalta jhalakti,

ek 'haan' ya 'na' par meri mano,

aa simta ho uska jeevan,

yeh sab soch raha ek pita ka mann.

Aakanksha par aashanka ka ghera,

prashnon par uttar ka pehra,

bina kuchh kahe aa baithi paas mere,

main agyaat sa, gum(ghum) sa thha,

“Shayad main bhi kabhi tum sa thha”

dheere se poocha, “papa aaj sunday hai na?”

maine kuchh na kaha, bas sarr hila 'haan' kar di.

“Papa aaj bahar chalein?”

Maine kuchh na kaha, bas sarr hila 'na' kar di.

Na socha uski kaamna ka,

bas swayam mein uljha sa,

uth wahan se chala gaya,

kitni laghu si kaamna,

kitna mahatvapoorn liye uske wo ek kshan,

ye sab soch raha ek pita ka mann.

Taiyyar ho ghar se nikal raha,

wahi kaamna se ot-prot si,

dekhti do nanhi aankhein

ek kalam utha aayi daudti paas mere,

le mera daayan haath, haathon mein apne,

jaane kya likh daala,

bina pade hi nikal gaya main,

shayad sochti rahi wo der tak,

ke kyun itna badal gaya main,

kyun na padh saka main,

uske nayanon ka darpan,

ye sab soch raha ek pita ka mann.

Shaam hui to ghar yaad aaya,

unhi nanhi aankhon ka darr yaad aaya,

akasmaat utha dekha daayan haath,

ab to kuchh kuchh mita sa,

par phir bhi pratyaksh,

jab dekha unn shabdon ko,

stabdh sa reh gaya main,

nayanon mein aansoo ubhar aaye,

jo saha hoga usne poore din,

maano main ek kshan mein seh gaya,

likha thha.......... “Daddy, aaj friendship day hai”

Sunday-monday poochna bahana thha,

bas usse to mujhe yaad dilaana thha,

saare kisse mein ek lupt si baat,

choo gayi antarmann ko mere,

'Poora din saath bitaane mein,

ek laghu sa lobh thha uska,

uske pita mein chhupa hua,

ek pyara sa dost thha uska'

iss laghu si upaadhi ke liye,

hai arpan mera saara jeevan,

ye sab soch raha ek pita ka mann.

Itna sankoch, itna krodh swayam par,

na aabhaas kiya thha maine,

ab to ghar pahunchne ke liye,

tatpar ho utha mera mann,

ghar pahuncha, usse saamne baitha paaya maine,

to kshama maangta sa, jab usse paas bulaya maine,

waisi hi daudti si, wo aa gale lag gayi mere,

jaise saare dosh, ek kshan mein bhool gayi mere,

ek chhoti si chocolate de,

maine kaha, “Beta, happy friendship day”,

“thank you daddy” keh,

muskuraati si god mein chadh gayi mere.

Laghu harsh khojne mein sakshamta,

kaash hum sab mein hoti,

bachhon jaisi maaf karne ki kshamta,

kaash hum sab mein hoti.

Ek pushp

“Baba, ek pushp mandir ka la do.”

Ab bhi kaanon mein tatpar se,

goonj uthte hain shabd jab,

iss sansaar ke nishthur se,

neeyam kar dete hain stabdh tab.

Inn nayanon ki moorat wo,

uski bholi si soorat wo,

nanhe-nanhe haathon ki,

nanhi-nanhi ungliyaan,

haathon se mere lipti thhi,

jeevan aur mrityu ki akalpit paheliyaan,

hriday se kab mere nipti thh.

Kya kehta ab uss se main?

Saare akshar kho gaye,

maano saari bhaavnaon par,

nukili kayi bediyan aa jhapti thhi.

Socha, tod doon ye neeyam main,

kho baitha thha saiyyam main.

Uski har shwaas bandhi bandhi si aati thhi,

aasha se ot-prot nayanon ki dori,

mushe niraasha de jaati thhi

Kahan hai tera nyay prabhu?

Kyun tu neeyam todta hai?

Kyun chheenega munni meri?

Kyun mujhe akela chhodta hai?

Hey saadhuo! Kuch karo!

Jala do ye haath mere jo jalaayenge kal uski chita,

reh kar jeevit naam maatr, kal mar jayega ek pita.

Dobara likhi jaayegi geeta,

kal usmein judega naya adhyaay prabhu.

Kahan hai tera nyaay prabhu?

Main kitna asahay, kitna nirbal hoon,

bhale hi kitna main nischhal hoon.

Jinn nayanon se neer ponch,

unhein kiya thha ashru-rahit,

jin haathon se mitti ponch,

unhein kiya thha maail-rahit

girte sambhalte, haath pakad, ungli pakad, dheere-dheere chalte,

nanhe kadamon ko de jeevan,

de ek mitti ki gudiya, radd kiya thha uska roodan.

Nanha rangeen lehenga pehna,

baitha kar kandhon par apne,

ghanton baithe ghar ki parchhatti par.

Dekhe thhe shyamal kitne sapne,

jiski nidra ki laghu jhapki ke liye,

kiye thhe maine kitne jatan,

jiske pehli baar 'baba' kehne par

bhar aaye thhe mere nayan,

ek bebasi si hoti, jab wo tutlaati si poochti...

“Baba, hum mandir kab jaayenge?”

phir main tujhse prashn karoon,

“Kahan hai tera nyaay prabhu?”

tere iss sansaar mein manushya kyun neeyam banaate hain?

Koi bataye kis aadhaar par, hum achhoot kehlaate hai?

Kabhi kabhi to vishwaas nahi aata teri iss shakti par,

kahan hai tu jab padi bediyan, teri bhi iss bhakti par?

Unhein kisne adhikaar diya ke moorti par teri wo maala chadhayein?

Hamaare to wo paair kaat den,

jo humne maatr ore teri kadam badhaye.

Kya doon a tu hi bata, uss masoom ko achhoot ka paryaay prabhu?

Kahan hai tera nyaay prabhu?

Nahi hai samay itna,

har kshan mrityu prakaashit,

uski nishchhal nanhi aankhein,

khulti, band ho jaati phir,

band ho gaye hain ab to,

unse ashru bhi gir-gir.

Jaise antarmann mein kehti,

aaj asambhav ko sambhav bana do,

phir rookhe adharon se kehti,

“Baba, ek pushp mandir ka la do”

daudta, adheer kadamon se main,

ho gaya ojhal nayanon se uske,

kuch hi kshanon mein laut,

pushp mandir ka la rakha haathon mein uske.

Antim ichha jyon poorn hui to,

nayan tyon muskura uthe,

laga jaise har ichha sampoorn hui ho.

Teri kriti ka matlab mujhko,

samjha gaya dhuan jalti chita ka,

kyun mujhe diya sainyyam itna,

kyun bada banaya hriday pita ka.

Sama gayi usmein saari peeda,

nayanon mein roodan na raha.

Ek baat par ab bhi mujhe,

poorntah sataati hai kahin,

poorn to ki antim ichha uski,

par wo satya to thha nahi.

Ho sake to kar dena kshama putri,

wo pushp mandir ka to thha nahi.

Ye na tu kehna mujh mein,

neeyam todne ka nischay nahi thha,

peedhiyon ki bedi todta par,

itna mere paas samay nahi thha.

Anyaay koi baar-baar ho sakta hai,

par nyaay jhukta nirantar nahi,

saare pushp hain ishwar ke,

doli par ho, shaiyya par ya ho mandir mein,

unmein kahin koi antar nahi.

Mandir ka pushp kuch asabhy logon ke kaaran,

mujhe aaj labhy nahi,

tujhe diya pushp eeshwar ka,

to tu hi bata kya ye satya nahi?

Kuchh aisa kar ke sansaar mein,

koi anyaay n rahe,

iss mein chhoot-achhoot ka,

koi adhyaay na rahe.

Phir na kisi marti putri ke liye,

koi asahay pita bahaana banaaye prabhu,

phir na wo tujhse pooche,

“Kahan hai tera nyaay prabhu?”

I know no one

Does anyone know me? Its not funny how many people have claimed to do that, sadly though, no one ever got it right.

I don’t think it’s a big achievement that I have managed to maintain that privacy in this otherwise interfering world. But at the same time its amazing how people live in illusions.

I think a person thinks only what he/she wants to think. Emotions are a derivative of certain facts and at a later stage a fact becomes the derivative of an emotion. How long does it take to know a person? I believe you can know a person only till the limit he wants you to know him/her. Sometimes you spend your entire life with someone, still don’t know him/her. Knowing someone can be very subjective. You know how he would react to situations, what he would do or say, in a given situation. But do you know him?

“I never said this to him because I knew what he would say”.
“I know her… she was never like this”
“I know he’s doing this because he never loved me”

What is this? Do we really know the people we love? Or is it just a comfort zone we have entered? Where we think we know him/her. How he talks, walks, behaves etc.
We say to ourselves that, this is it. I know this person now.
I know the thought is very random and I know no one will like it. Because I know no one.

Wrong is right

Last night a thief broke into one of the vacant flats in my housing society. He was caught standing at the parapet of the seventh floor, 20 people waiting down to beat him up, 10 on the terrace, trying to strike a conversation with him and coax him to come up.
After good 40mins of coaxing the young lad decided to climb up to the terrace, on one promise made to him by a middle aged man from the terrace that he wouldn’t be beaten up. The moment he landed on the terrace he heard these words.
Haath baandh do sale ke.
Kyun be kutte?
Chori karne aaya thha?
Chal neeche chal haraami.
I was a mute spectator of all this but when, exactly after 10 minutes of his surrender, 40 men gathered around him to teach him a lesson, I decided I will talk to them.
What followed is defined by my set of rights and wrongs. They need not be similar to any one else’s.

Right: He was coaxed into not jumping from there and surrendering.
Wrong: Promise made to him that he won’t be beaten up.
Right: What if he had broken into my house or hurt someone I love?
Wrong: Setting an example for others.
Right: I said, “Police ka kaam aap kyun kar rahe ho?”
Wrong: Someone in the mob, “Police nahi karti issi liye”
Wrong: Beat him up but make sure he doesn’t bleed.
Wrong: 20 people beating up an unarmed man.
Wrong: Khoon bhi nikalega to kya? Kisne maara kya pata chalega?
Wrong: If we beat him up then he wouldn’t break into someone else’s house. Ever.
I was the only one shouting on top of my voice. I was the only one who looked like a fool when 40 other men thought what they were doing was right. I was the only one who thought there’s some law and order that was in place. I gave up and came back to my house. Pushed and lost.
This is the Roadies generation. The ‘no-nonsense’, ‘brave’ and ‘ready-to-take-on-the-entire-world-single handedly’ generation.
Raghu in a Roadies episode (to a contestant): You have written in your form that you want to help the country and help the needy. What have you done till date?
Contestant: Abhi tak to kuchh kiya nahi hai…
Raghu (angrily): Dekha? Yehi to problem hai iss generation ki.
In a separate incident, Raghu: I don’t know what affect we must be having on these kids.
If you don’t know then fu*^%$# do it. Why you doing it? TRPs right!
Well that was the angst. But please welcome the Roadies generation of youth in India.
They set an example. They are game to kill for the right reasons. They are ready to punish the wrong. And they say they are right.

Wrong is the new right.

State of mind

This is my state of mind.

I have been telling myself that I always wanted to be an actor, like millions of other aspiring models. Some foolishness inside me told me that I am better than them. And after winning a reality show for actors, at a regional level my faith was refreshed, in myself. Well that brought me to Mumbai. I met reality here. I met someone called 'Me' here. He seemed to be nice, friendly, open, way too optimistic and ambitious to me. But he was a fool... he believed in dreams. He believed dreams come true.

Well soon i met 'Me' and made him a part of me. We both began to co-exist. We became one.

But I cant understand what's going on in my mind right now.

Books I am currently reading – The devil and miss prym – Paulo Coelho

Red earth and pouring rain – Vikram Chandra

Screenplay – Syd Field

Harry Potter – The order of the Phoenix – You know who

The great indian novel – Shashi tharoor

The age of Shiva – Manil Suri (Just started)

Books I am currently writing – Gods Dont Lie – Writing the second draft

Him – Just 4 chapters on paper

5 Years later – Just 2 chapters on paper

I have a regular 10 to 6 (actually 12 to 8) job at a Radio Station, (I am a writer there), plus I am writing 3 daily non-fiction TV shows (all currently on-air), high society sangeet scripts and some articles for a newspaper (on & off).

I have been very irregular on the blog though. Coz i suddenly realized there are only 24 hrs in a day.

Thats not the point though. It feels like I am not writing. Feels like I am not doing enough. Feels like I can do much more than this.

I want to help someone live a better life. I want to heal the wounds I have caused, also the ones I havent. I want to touch someone's life, in a way no one has ever done before.

I want to make a difference to someone's life.

These are the things I want to do.

Materialistically speaking, I want to do advertising. I want to win awards. I want to put myself in a situation that I cant handle.

I dont know why I am so ruthless with myself. I dont know why I want to push myself into something that I cant do, or i believe I cant do.

Is it beacuse I was immobile for 2 years (due to an accident)? Is it because I think I started too late in life? Is it because everyone around me knew it was not possible?

Why do I have to prove a point? Always. I have to prove someone wrong all the time. Why? Is it just a state of mind? Or a state of existence?

Why do I remember that the empty cold drink can, lying on the ground last night, was moving from left to right, and not right to left? Why do I remember the folds in the aluminium foil of a friends lunch box? Why do I remember the way I folded the morning newspaper yesterday? Why?
Is there a reason why I feel the hollow in my writing?

Am I making up for the lost time? Is this permanent? Is this a state of mind?

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have been good this year because i have been bad.

I have hurt people... myself... i have strained some more relationships... succumbed to expectations... never risen to other people's expectation.

I did my own thing... in a wrong way... calculated right or wrong from my point of view... reached a conclusion, again, from my point of view... i have made people cry... i have made them fall in love with me, just for the kicks of it...

This year I had conversations with people, just to prove them wrong... just to put my point across... harshly...

I hated, resented, hurt, over and over, again and again... broke promises... went back on my words... lied... to others... to myself.

I faked tears, happiness, emotions,... I borrowed... emotions, thoughts, life.

Dear Santa... I have been good this year because I know, I have been bad.

I have a problem

I have a problem.

I don’t have eyes… I have 2 cameras instead. Don’t know what megapixel, but unlimited memory. I don’t think mankind has invented cameras like this.

It has a video recorder and superb sound playback system too. It does take pictures (don’t know in which format though) and whenever I try to connect its memory card to the computer… the memory card crashes. I think there is some sort of a mismatch between their formats.

I think both the cameras record pictures in JPEG format and videos in MPEG format. The videos have sub-files recorded in AVSEQ format. And the only format my computer supports is DOC, that’s the reason why I can never capture anything from that camera to my computer.

There is an automatic deletion process in the 2 cameras. The picture gets deleted automatically if there isn’t space on the disc for a new one.

Today I took a beautiful picture of a spider being killed by the pressure of the water coming from a hand shower. The dark brown colored spider was dumbstruck by what hit him. Minutes after the first blast it tried to get up again, only to face another one. This one was fatal.

The picture was taken milliseconds after the second blast. The spider had succumbed to its fate. Death. The way his hands curled… to form his non-existent body… the way he gave up was shattering.

Sometimes, there’s no second chance. Sometimes, there’s no second blast. Sometimes, you wish, there wasn’t a second chance. And a second failure.

When you face death, you see life. The way you’ve never seen it before. Sometimes.

The next picture on the camera was of the spider’s dead body… moving slowly with the flow…

Milliseconds make moments. They destroy them too.

See, I am failing. Yet again. I want technology to connect the 2 cameras to my computer. I want a format that’s universal.

I want these pictures to talk, not fumble.

What women say?

What women say and what they actually mean.

“I don’t know…”
No.
“I think…”
No.
“… No”
No.
“Not really.”
No.
“I have never thought about you in that way”
Buzz off.
“It’s great.”
You can do better than that. Actually… much better than that.
“He’s cute.”
Not good looking.
“I have a headache.”
She has a headache.
“Coffee? … Will call you… for sure.”
I have a life.
“Do I look fat in this?” (With a smile)
You are dead both ways.
“Do I look fat in this?” (Seriously)
Come on… you can say yes and pay for my gym.
“I love you”
I love you.
“I love SRK”
Live with this one.

Did I make you happy?

Did I make you happy?

The core-existence thoery.

I am thankful to blinking

I am thankful to blinking.

It really blocks out a lot of misery.

We are so caught up with our self… our family… our world.

Everyone around you keeps judging you… on the basis of what you do… what you don’t… whom you love, whom you don’t…

Are we judging our self?

Do we love unconditionally?

Do we live up to our expectations?

Its simple I guess. Just do the right thing. It’s always right.