I try talking to myself when I am alone.
I try talking to myself when I am in crowd.
I try answering questions that kill me from within.
I try solving the problems which eat me.
Is life that hard to live???
Or is it that I am Lost???
Day after day,night after night,
I do the same thing,
Maybe because I am afraid what future holds,
Or maybe I am just brave enough to stare future in the face,
give a nasty grin and say,"give me your best shot and I will still be standing here"
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Song About Friendship
I was busy sleeping on my train seat with my head on dining tray when my phone started ringing. The ‘Jungle Book’ ringtone echoed through the length and breadth of the compartment and very soon I could hear faint sounds of my fellow travellers telling me to answer the phone. I got up, wondered where I was for a while and then answered my phone in a very lazy voice. It was my friend Sonya on the line. She asked me where I was to which I replied that I was somewhere between Jamshedpur and Kolkata. After knowing about my whereabouts, she started telling me about Fiesta- a one day event being organised by her college and she asks me to attend it. I too sleepy to think, I answer that I will surely do that and then kept the phone.
Four days later, I get another call from her saying that I have to be at the Nicco Park ground at 7. I ask her for what and then she reminds me of my promise. Now it’s already tough to convince a girl and when it is a Punjabi girl it’s safer if you try jumping from Howrah Bridge instead. After trying to convince her that I have too much work to come for the event, I finally end up saying that I will be at the event.
After almost getting lost trying to find the venue, I finally meet Sonya and she hands over my pass to me. She tells me I will enjoy the show as KK was performing. I give her a smile and say nothing. After like 1 hour of utter bullshit on stage the show finally (!) starts. I personally hated the two Mc’s for the event because they did nothing else than eating the crowds ears and speaking filthy English. KK arrived on stage and after a brief introduction of his bands started belting out some amazing numbers.
He started with Humdum Suniyo Re and continued with more of his hits. His songs were amazing. I never thought that I would actually enjoy a concert with Hindi songs in it. After about 6 songs he finally sang a song which took me back in time. The song was Yaaron. It had been one of the most magical songs I had ever heard and that night it made me realise that I was all alone. I called up my best friend who was in a different city. I said to her, “hey I am at your favourite artist’s concert and he is singing our favourite song”. She replied, “Hey that’s so not fair, you are enjoying all by yourself and you say that I am your best friend”. I smiled and told her that I was feeling a little too sentimental as all my friend were far away so I had called her up to share the moment. She was happy to hear it. Then I told her to stay on the line while I took the phone near the speakers. I made sure that she too listened to the song, after a while I took the phone away and told her thanks for her patience with me to which she replied, “Hey that was sweet of you to do that”. I shouted back at her saying that I hated being called sweet. She gave a hearty laugh and said, “I know but the reaction I get from you whenever I say that it is simply priceless”. Listening to this even I started laughing and then I cut the phone after talking for a while.
It made me realise that it’s not about being together with friends that counts, being there for your friends is what matters. This changed my sentimental mood to a happy one as deep within me I knew that out of the 24 hours that my friends live every single day, they at least think of me for a moment and that moment of their life is completely dominated by me. The song ‘Yaaron’ will bring back the sweet memories of the times I have spent with them even when I am 90 years old and on my deathbed. I love and miss all of you.
Four days later, I get another call from her saying that I have to be at the Nicco Park ground at 7. I ask her for what and then she reminds me of my promise. Now it’s already tough to convince a girl and when it is a Punjabi girl it’s safer if you try jumping from Howrah Bridge instead. After trying to convince her that I have too much work to come for the event, I finally end up saying that I will be at the event.
After almost getting lost trying to find the venue, I finally meet Sonya and she hands over my pass to me. She tells me I will enjoy the show as KK was performing. I give her a smile and say nothing. After like 1 hour of utter bullshit on stage the show finally (!) starts. I personally hated the two Mc’s for the event because they did nothing else than eating the crowds ears and speaking filthy English. KK arrived on stage and after a brief introduction of his bands started belting out some amazing numbers.
He started with Humdum Suniyo Re and continued with more of his hits. His songs were amazing. I never thought that I would actually enjoy a concert with Hindi songs in it. After about 6 songs he finally sang a song which took me back in time. The song was Yaaron. It had been one of the most magical songs I had ever heard and that night it made me realise that I was all alone. I called up my best friend who was in a different city. I said to her, “hey I am at your favourite artist’s concert and he is singing our favourite song”. She replied, “Hey that’s so not fair, you are enjoying all by yourself and you say that I am your best friend”. I smiled and told her that I was feeling a little too sentimental as all my friend were far away so I had called her up to share the moment. She was happy to hear it. Then I told her to stay on the line while I took the phone near the speakers. I made sure that she too listened to the song, after a while I took the phone away and told her thanks for her patience with me to which she replied, “Hey that was sweet of you to do that”. I shouted back at her saying that I hated being called sweet. She gave a hearty laugh and said, “I know but the reaction I get from you whenever I say that it is simply priceless”. Listening to this even I started laughing and then I cut the phone after talking for a while.
It made me realise that it’s not about being together with friends that counts, being there for your friends is what matters. This changed my sentimental mood to a happy one as deep within me I knew that out of the 24 hours that my friends live every single day, they at least think of me for a moment and that moment of their life is completely dominated by me. The song ‘Yaaron’ will bring back the sweet memories of the times I have spent with them even when I am 90 years old and on my deathbed. I love and miss all of you.
The Spirit of Manhood
I have heard my dad and his friends talk about their times. Stories of how they had fun as teens and how they had craving for doing something their parents would never allow them. Everyone had different choices when it came to having fun but surprisingly when it came to bikes, everyone from my dad to Ze uncle (Teacher Mitali’s Husband) had the same choice, a ROYAL ENFIELD bike.
Well guys like me who were brought up in the 90’s always loved sports bike more. For us it was always about more style than substance. On any given day I would choose a sports bike over a classic bike, but then came this one day which changed my thoughts, and after that the world around me changed.
I was managing the concert Tamanna. I had for my help two friends Srijeet and Binil (or should I say DJ Billie). The three of us worked our ass off for this event and this was supposed to be one of the biggest nights of my life. Tamanna was supposed to happen on the evening of 13th December and I had my semester exams starting from that day in my college in Kolkata. I cared a damn about my exam but as a student it was my duty and compulsion to answer it. My dad had seen me work for this event and so he booked me a flight ticket to come back to Jamshedpur to witness the event. I was so ecstatic. I went back to Kolkata the night before my exam and I was supposed to catch my flight just after my exam ended.
I was so charged up for the event that I finished my paper early but the stupid invigilator just wouldn’t let me leave the hall before the bell rang. I waited and when the bell rang, I scrammed towards the airport. On reaching the terminal, I just reflected back and remembered how Teacher Mitali, Binil, Srijeet and I had worked days and nights for the event. I was so happy that in another hour I will be in Jamshedpur with them, getting ready for Tamanna. I remembered that Teacher Mitali had promised to gift me a special cravat to wear for that event and how I had matched my dress for the event with the colour of that cravat.
With all these things in my mind I went to the airline counter for my boarding pass. The lady at the counter smiled at me and took my ticket. Looking at my ticket, the expression on her face changed and she informed me that my flight was closed.
“WHAT THE F@#K! This cannot be happening to me”, those were the exact words that came from my mouth. All my dreams of attending Tamanna were shattered in a jiffy. I pleaded, cried but the operator just didn’t help me. Feeling angry and sad at the same time I called up dad and told him about what had happened. He told me to take a Tourist taxi down to Jamshedpur but I knew that even that would not take me to Jamshedpur in time and on top of that I didn’t want him to pay Rs 7000 for my stupidity. Just as I ended the call, my phone rang again and this time it was Binil on the line. I told him what had happened and his voice told me how bad he was feeling. Just then a stupid idea hit my mind. “Arrange a bike for me, I will saddle down to Jamshedpur”, I said. Binil gave me a few numbers and told me that they were the numbers of some common friends we had and they would easily arrange a bike for me.
I called each of that number but no one picked. Then I realized that those guys were writing their exams. A series of explicit words came from my mouth cursing my luck. When I was still cursing my cell rang again. This time it was Amit Bhaiya calling. He was one of my dad’s juniors at his work when dad was based in Kolkata. I seized the moment and asked him if he could arrange a bike for me to which he replied, “Why the hell should you hire a bike when my bike is there”. He told me come down to his place at once and take the bike. I took a taxi and went to his house. There I was welcomed with a tight hug and the keys of a bike. I was so happy that finally I had a chance to make it to Tamanna on time.
The bike was a Royal Enfield Thunderbird. That bike intimidated me. I had never ridden a Royal Enfield before and I had heard stories of this hooligan bike’s temper. I had heard from Ze uncle that this bike was as dangerous as a Hulk Hogan high on hulkamania, “the bike will not respect you, and it’s you who will have to earn the bike’s respect and you cannot take an Enfield for granted” that’s what he had told me once.
Though afraid, the want to witness Tamanna overpowered me and so I wore the helmet and I took off. The bike was heavy and I could feel the vibrating engine inside my helmet. After filling up the tank I started the journey which would change my outlook toward biking. Once the bike was heated up, it was like sitting on the back of a cheetah and even a 110kmph felt like I was only doing a 50. The bike and I travelled at a speed on which every other vehicle on the expressway looked like snails. Occasionally I would think if I will be able to reach Jamshedpur on time but the thump of the Enfield’s engine reassured me that it would do anything to make me reach the venue on time.
After a 4 hour ride on the cheetah, I mean the bullet; I finally reached the Jamshedpur entrance better known as Dimna Chowk. I was so excited that I started calling up dad, just then I saw a bad part of the road and the next thing I remember is I was down with a face full of gravel. I remembered the words of Ze uncle, “you cannot take an Enfield for granted”. I got up, cleaned my jeans, took the bike (which was still revving surprisingly!) and after a short check-up of the bike’s controls and damages, restarted my journey. Another 5 minutes on road and I was outside the XLRI auditorium. After entering the venue in Marlon Brando style, I parked the bike and ran into the auditorium.
I was greeted by a full house and a tight hug again (this time by Binil). I went backstage where I could see a new enthusiasm on everyone’s face, changed my clothes and also got my injuries treated (thanks Binil).
After I was all set for the show, I saw teacher Mitali making her way to the green room. She was happy to see me and she gave me the cravat which she had specially ordered for me. It was lovely and it complimented my clothes very well. After that all of us made our way to the front row of seating area where a few of our friends were already seated and enjoyed the awesome performance by Prayag-the band.
This show was my...oops sorry the life everyone associated to it and the response from the crowd was over whelming. I could see the happiness on everyone’s face and I was happy that I was able to witness this.
The trip which enabled me to witness Tamanna was not only the ride of my life but also the ride of the spirit of man and the ride of the changes that took place in me. Gone are the days when I loved the Karizma and Pulsar, Now its Royal Enfield all the way. Now I know why people say Royal Enfield is not a bike but God in machine form. Oh! By the way, I also got a good scolding from dad for telling him that I am coming in a taxi. HEHE...that is one thing that will never change in boys, doing what they are barred from doing.
Well guys like me who were brought up in the 90’s always loved sports bike more. For us it was always about more style than substance. On any given day I would choose a sports bike over a classic bike, but then came this one day which changed my thoughts, and after that the world around me changed.
I was managing the concert Tamanna. I had for my help two friends Srijeet and Binil (or should I say DJ Billie). The three of us worked our ass off for this event and this was supposed to be one of the biggest nights of my life. Tamanna was supposed to happen on the evening of 13th December and I had my semester exams starting from that day in my college in Kolkata. I cared a damn about my exam but as a student it was my duty and compulsion to answer it. My dad had seen me work for this event and so he booked me a flight ticket to come back to Jamshedpur to witness the event. I was so ecstatic. I went back to Kolkata the night before my exam and I was supposed to catch my flight just after my exam ended.
I was so charged up for the event that I finished my paper early but the stupid invigilator just wouldn’t let me leave the hall before the bell rang. I waited and when the bell rang, I scrammed towards the airport. On reaching the terminal, I just reflected back and remembered how Teacher Mitali, Binil, Srijeet and I had worked days and nights for the event. I was so happy that in another hour I will be in Jamshedpur with them, getting ready for Tamanna. I remembered that Teacher Mitali had promised to gift me a special cravat to wear for that event and how I had matched my dress for the event with the colour of that cravat.
With all these things in my mind I went to the airline counter for my boarding pass. The lady at the counter smiled at me and took my ticket. Looking at my ticket, the expression on her face changed and she informed me that my flight was closed.
“WHAT THE F@#K! This cannot be happening to me”, those were the exact words that came from my mouth. All my dreams of attending Tamanna were shattered in a jiffy. I pleaded, cried but the operator just didn’t help me. Feeling angry and sad at the same time I called up dad and told him about what had happened. He told me to take a Tourist taxi down to Jamshedpur but I knew that even that would not take me to Jamshedpur in time and on top of that I didn’t want him to pay Rs 7000 for my stupidity. Just as I ended the call, my phone rang again and this time it was Binil on the line. I told him what had happened and his voice told me how bad he was feeling. Just then a stupid idea hit my mind. “Arrange a bike for me, I will saddle down to Jamshedpur”, I said. Binil gave me a few numbers and told me that they were the numbers of some common friends we had and they would easily arrange a bike for me.
I called each of that number but no one picked. Then I realized that those guys were writing their exams. A series of explicit words came from my mouth cursing my luck. When I was still cursing my cell rang again. This time it was Amit Bhaiya calling. He was one of my dad’s juniors at his work when dad was based in Kolkata. I seized the moment and asked him if he could arrange a bike for me to which he replied, “Why the hell should you hire a bike when my bike is there”. He told me come down to his place at once and take the bike. I took a taxi and went to his house. There I was welcomed with a tight hug and the keys of a bike. I was so happy that finally I had a chance to make it to Tamanna on time.
The bike was a Royal Enfield Thunderbird. That bike intimidated me. I had never ridden a Royal Enfield before and I had heard stories of this hooligan bike’s temper. I had heard from Ze uncle that this bike was as dangerous as a Hulk Hogan high on hulkamania, “the bike will not respect you, and it’s you who will have to earn the bike’s respect and you cannot take an Enfield for granted” that’s what he had told me once.
Though afraid, the want to witness Tamanna overpowered me and so I wore the helmet and I took off. The bike was heavy and I could feel the vibrating engine inside my helmet. After filling up the tank I started the journey which would change my outlook toward biking. Once the bike was heated up, it was like sitting on the back of a cheetah and even a 110kmph felt like I was only doing a 50. The bike and I travelled at a speed on which every other vehicle on the expressway looked like snails. Occasionally I would think if I will be able to reach Jamshedpur on time but the thump of the Enfield’s engine reassured me that it would do anything to make me reach the venue on time.
After a 4 hour ride on the cheetah, I mean the bullet; I finally reached the Jamshedpur entrance better known as Dimna Chowk. I was so excited that I started calling up dad, just then I saw a bad part of the road and the next thing I remember is I was down with a face full of gravel. I remembered the words of Ze uncle, “you cannot take an Enfield for granted”. I got up, cleaned my jeans, took the bike (which was still revving surprisingly!) and after a short check-up of the bike’s controls and damages, restarted my journey. Another 5 minutes on road and I was outside the XLRI auditorium. After entering the venue in Marlon Brando style, I parked the bike and ran into the auditorium.
I was greeted by a full house and a tight hug again (this time by Binil). I went backstage where I could see a new enthusiasm on everyone’s face, changed my clothes and also got my injuries treated (thanks Binil).
After I was all set for the show, I saw teacher Mitali making her way to the green room. She was happy to see me and she gave me the cravat which she had specially ordered for me. It was lovely and it complimented my clothes very well. After that all of us made our way to the front row of seating area where a few of our friends were already seated and enjoyed the awesome performance by Prayag-the band.
This show was my...oops sorry the life everyone associated to it and the response from the crowd was over whelming. I could see the happiness on everyone’s face and I was happy that I was able to witness this.
The trip which enabled me to witness Tamanna was not only the ride of my life but also the ride of the spirit of man and the ride of the changes that took place in me. Gone are the days when I loved the Karizma and Pulsar, Now its Royal Enfield all the way. Now I know why people say Royal Enfield is not a bike but God in machine form. Oh! By the way, I also got a good scolding from dad for telling him that I am coming in a taxi. HEHE...that is one thing that will never change in boys, doing what they are barred from doing.
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