notes,scribbles,bubbles,visions,hallucinations and what have you

Sunday, March 28, 2004

i wake this morning. its gloomy and raining.
the buzz of an impossible moment.

then i see this kid on the fourth floor holding a green baloon. she's barely four.
her face is writ with engrossment. her eyes are rivetted to the place where the rain gets softly swallowed by the swimming pool.

i miss bangalore. four seasons in one day.
tea,munchies and warm conversations
smart warm sweat shirts. nights spent under blankets. cozy and womb like.
blissful REM and happy morning after glows.


Friday, March 26, 2004

today was one of those days when my paranoia turned to reality.i always thought that id drop something into that gap near the elevator door.this morning my pen slipped from my hand and bounced twice before neatly slotting itself into that lil void.
thank god it was'nt my bike and house keys.

i ride out
its some 35 something degrees
every time i reach a signal it turns red.
worse.... all my sweat pores decide to come to the party.
and what was i rushing to......
dreary dissertation.


Wednesday, March 24, 2004

turtle walk
a vacant stroll under stars wanton gaze
bare skin on sand cool waters
the sea barfing surfsuds from eating the sun whole
drunken crab scamper followers
salty silence inhaled in large gulps

sweet serenity grooves on wet shores
mud castles built on temporary inspiration
empty shell pearl awakenings
call of black abyss night to the ocean floor
deep sea divers dining with unidentified swimming objects

dawn saw alice in impossibleland wearing a mermaid dress


Wednesday, March 17, 2004

post-paid pains

I was hoping for a while that Reliance had forgotten that I had was one of their subscribers.but no....i get the bill...Rs.11,500....qwul............................ i look at the itemised bill................ the calls come flooding back.

hours and hours spent calling delhi and cochin. a voice i had to hear everyday....everynight. all the minutes spent fighting, making up , making out.

just when you think the trauma is over you get post trauma trauma.

itemised at that.

take my advice.

stick to pre-paid.


Monday, March 15, 2004


the other day im having dinner with shanu and i see this young spruced up couple.
she says, 'i saw this ad on tv, the new philips dvd for rs 5990/- only, imagine that only rs. 5990'. he pretends he dint quite hear her and develops a sudden intense interest in the shape of the ketchup bottle.

a while later, she repeats the astonishing fact ,a DVD for rs 5,990 imagine that, her voice all silky and sultry. 'yeah, lets think about it...or better still why dont we wait till the new year sale?' he's clearing squirming now.....poor bastard.

he's was strong this time around.but i look at him and i know he's going to break. she will have on his knees raeching for his checkbook faster than you can say Dee Vee Dee, when she makes a similar request in the confines of their bedroom.

'darling, listening to barry white turns me on superbly............i will do anything after listening to him....anything'

sucker............she will get him by the balls.

make no mistake about that.

is it true that listening to pumpy music is a good thing for nocturnal activity.
if it is then 'carmina burana' might be a good starts off slow then builds itself to reach a earth shattering peak.

music after all does get you up when you are down.


livid lately
last night my sis calls. my uncle she says has decided to help himself to some of our compound space whilst he's erecting himself a pillar to add another storey to his place.

i know he's old, senile, retired and the tall pillars are a compensation for something thats been flagging for a while. but what he's doing has the acids in my stomach rising up again.

now i can feel in part what the palestinians go through.
any encroachment enrages.

now there's only two things i can do. take a train and stick a blunt knife up his rectum.
or wait till he finishes,find some rdx/plastic and blow his grandiose project sky high.

but knowing me i shall just remind myself of the Lord's prayer....
....'forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us'

i like the old testament better.......
'an eye for an eye'......
'a tooth for a tooth'
'a house for an inch encroached'

ok Jesus you know I said that to sound cool.


Friday, March 12, 2004


if you could recall one episode in your life and had the choice to replay it infinitely....

what would it be?




well, in a few days i shall quietly shed my human skin. don a fresh layer of make-up and wrap a mask on my face.

evolving backwards till i'm ready for the rat race. hit the road dirty and scurrying hurriedly with fellow sewer mates. looking for meatier morsels.

cannibalising, conniving and conspiring.

classroom environs traded for a dog eat bitch world. freedom bartered for enterprise.
kick arse and kiss arse.

wake up and smell the newsprint.




flys on gossamer winged unicorns
plays with piranhas at her playschool
swims in sync with a T-rex in rough seas
eats black holes dipped in enriched uranium

makes castles from molten lava lakes
bakes cancer cakes crooning Mars morse code
scribbles graffiti on rebel rainbows
pours hot mercury on angry jesters

migrates with cobras barfing on green skies
mates with guitars at twilight's shade
sips platinum juice gathering poetrees
sleeps with samurai children feeding diamond dragons



post WSF i was seen sporting this beard. no...not because marx had merged with my psyche convincing me that shaving blades, creams and after-shaves were a devious capitalism creation but because i had trouble locating a mirror.
i got some reactions about looking sickly, diseased and a total junkhead and an odd 'yeah, its allright'.

i continued with the facefur thinking that it made look like a colombian druglord. i would stop and stare at every available reflective surface....plates on veebees included.this one day im looking intently at my facewhiskers contemplating whether i should fashion it into a goatee and i suddenly become aware that my unabashed self-worshipping is being witnessed by our maid (she's over 40...) whos furiously trying to get the dirt out of rahul's jeans and fixing me with this frown at the same time.

i look at her and ask her about what she thinks about my facebristles...assuming that she might dig it cause all tamil actors worth their salt sport facefungus.

'i was wondering how to tell you, im glad you asked....your beard is atrocious.....a rhino horn on a chimp would look better'
hehe...i say and walk away.

fast forward two days.

..................ting-tong....i open the door. its the maid blushing brilliantly with a sun tv smile, she shies away from looking at me and she's even giggling softly.
what now?

my maid thinks that i had shaved the beard upon her urging. what else does she think?

i dint shave coz she told me to. i swear.
i dint i tell you.
i dint.


Wednesday, March 10, 2004


plunge headlong into murky waters
a cesspool of darkness deep
a womb of warm refuse
spurned and spit out
a grim reapers barren harvest


Monday, March 08, 2004

barber shop-talk

yesterday i thought i'd get myself a trim so i walk into this hair dressing salon(sounds so much better than barber shop).
'slope at the back not round and cut the sides short and dont touch the front coz ahem....has trouble growing.'

i like salons. it allows me to stare at myself unabashedly in public without feeling that everybody thinks that i'm self-obsessed and insane. so i sit and eyes begin to close. it happens everytime im overwhelmed by anything sensual.

i open them to find that mr. salon scissor happy man has decided to give me a haircut of his choice. im mortified cause my hair is a scarce resource and needs no messing around with. i tell him to make a few changes to which he doesnt take too lightly and looks unhappy that the master hairsmith has been disturbed at work.

massage sir? he then asks...yeah....i say....but go easy on the hair in front it rather delicate and might just present itself in your hand if you start yanking it too hard.

he starts with warm oil..hmmmmm....hes not so bad after all mr. massage therapy man. gentle sleep....
why is he hitting me now? ow ow whoa that hurts.....he pretends that its part of the massage.... all the blows he's raining on me....
whack whack whack...

bend your head he i sucker for pain...a closet sado-masochist.
or am i too chicken to ask to him to go easy on the kneading and the blows and be looked at as a half-man.

i finally stop him when he reaches out for my neck to break it.
he looked terribly distraught that i'd halted what was the final act to this pain play.
then what i do? i smile,pay him and walk off.
never tell someone who has scissors and a blade to your head what to do.


blogs and photographs

my life it seems is made up of only blogs and photographs.

on the street, talking to someone, having lunch, shopping, on the beach, watching a movie or observing people - im thinking-

'how can i fit this into my blog?'

'boy, this shuer would make for a good photograph, shoot im not carrying the camera'

i dig this groovy world of blogs and photographs.

maybe i could squeeze in movies, sitcoms and music.

and tea.


nobel speech

nobel peace prize acceptance speech from the joint winners

bush: i owe this prize for starting the war in Iraq.
thank you's to peace in Iraq.

pope: i owe this prize for trying to stop the war in Iraq.
thank you god. here's to peace in Iraq.


Thursday, March 04, 2004

nobel or what?
this seems like a list for choose the odd man out.
blair, bush and the pope.
pray tell, which list could they be on together.
correct answer: the nobel peace prize list.

now this gets me mad,no, no, not that bush (the simian) and blair (the simian's poodle) have been nominated for the Nobel peace prize.

i'm livid that saddam dint get nominated for the Nobel chemistry prize.
what about his contribution to biology, no nomination for the biology prize either?
poor saddam's extensive research in chemical and biological weapons goes largely unnoticed. year should be better.


Wednesday, March 03, 2004

him again

seems like the self-defeatist bud in my life is rearing his ugly head again.
he was last seen trying successfully stopping me from handing in my photo-journalism assignments.

he then took me to a night-club and introduced me to the intoxicating bosom of miss escapism.

let go now i tell you....dear miss poison ivy. i have roads to take and promises to keep.

the answer kind sir it seems is in the waking up and smelling of the newsprint.

but dear mr. conscience i have a cold.

drat...double drat.

is there hope for a raving hypochondriac?


Tuesday, March 02, 2004


he clambered softly out of his bed
ambled lazily to the empty yard
and sprayed his insides out
onto the pristine high walls

the inmates awoke at dawn
to stare with rapt lover attention
at gutwrenching illustrations
of rage, ruin and retribution

freedom found within the confines of death row gallows.


Monday, March 01, 2004


a four wheel drive
propelled by wanderlust
mating with myraid sunsets
careening off mountain peaks

devouring distances to guzzle new horizons
chance meetings with ancient temple goddesses
sipping serendipity out of spring flowers
sleeping with effervescence on star studded fields

awake with cherubs eating honey dipped ambrosias
surfing seas on bare dolphin backs
swaying plush on a pipe dream tune
drop anchor with new maps in head inked


ragpicker reverie
dawn has driven a wedge into my heart
the early morning rays ravage my skin
i like it better in the shadows
with the shades drawn and my soul kept

the streets are bare
i stop to pick up a newspaper and a coke can
not to be consumed but to be sold
for whiffs of glue till i turn blue

darkness creeps and delivers me a phantasmic vacation

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