Tuesday, April 16, 2013

The Jog

In the evening when I am back from college, its been happening for past 2 days now. I pull up my socks, wear my running shoes, pick my headphones and I am off. Off to the locality park. The sun's set and only half of the lamps in the park are on. The headphones play "chasing cars" and even though the tempo of the song doesn't match my jogging speed it's somehow relaxing. This is the time I am at perfect ease. It's pretty dark and no one sees each other's face except where they cross the dimly lit patches. This is my "me" time.

Because sometimes the path is the greatest listener.
I usually think about the day, my actions and have the deepest introspection.

This is the time when I am aware of my every step and life seems bearable even lovable to most extent. At other times I use the aid of music to get away from people, situations and also my own self and thoughts. But this stretch of time is different. Here the music isn't a means to be oblivious to the world around me rather it makes me more aware.

And in that time I wonder maybe all this adds up to something. The long hours of jog, the useless days of exam preparation which im flunking for sure, the hours of writing drafts in my blog, the senseless chats on my phone, the never ending questions of sex and the existence of a God, the meaningless jokes, the decisions as to whether I should bathe, or shave or not, quoting lyrics in a conversation, My narcissistic approach towards everything, My ignorance revenge to people's ignorance towards me, impatience, Tight hugs and the small peck on the cheek. Maybe all this is who I am. And this is the time when I happen to love who I am, and for people to accept, how I am.

Monday, April 8, 2013


Lessons learnt over the past two months:

# Failures hit you in the face when you least expect it.
# Sometimes your hundred per cent is nature's fifty.
# You might know you are better, smarter and more confident than everybody in your vicinity but you don't need to show and flaunt that 24x7.
# Sometimes acting gawaar is the only way to survive.
# Your channel of thought makes you who you are.
# Most of the times people you trust the most let you down.
# Sometimes people may mean everything to you yet they can't replace the one's who were important to you before also YOUR FAMILY.
# Writing a blog on someone's request is a bad idea, when you dont have time.
# What people think and what people say they think are two different things.
# Never confess anything without cross questioning yourself atleast a thousand times about its consequences
# A hug and a chai solve every problem in this world.
# You have clothes, you have food and you have shelter. If there is a God he needs to be thanked every bloody day.
# dont throw " I love you's " at someone, if that someone is pushed away by it
# Nobody waits for you, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, one day everyone is going to move on.
# The no. of friends on facebook is inversely proportional to the no. of friends you have in real life.
# The most intriguing question you can ask yourself is "Why the fuck ME?"
# The definition of happiness varies from person to person.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013


There was a farmer known as Manu who had everything he ever wanted in life. A good family, good friends, a pet named Moti and a photoshopped image of Aniket Mahamunkar(The Tramp) kissing Morgan Freeman. The only problem being, he suffered from incessant headaches. Headaches that would plague his thoughts, which would make him uncomfortable at all times and which would prevent him from completely doing any farming work that he was expected to do. He tried on and off to analyze his aches and wondered what could be their source. One day while farming he hit upon the reason and ran to his wife, pausing every 20 seconds to make sure the blood doesn’t not rush too much into his head. He reached his wife panting, and she co-incidentally was painting.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I have found the source of the aches” he said frowning.


“Well my headaches are related to my farming”


“They are My-Grains”.

His wife stabbed him to death with her paintbrush after that. No more headaches recorded ever since.