There are some things in life you never forget. Moments you savor, that remain fresh in memory even years later, and bring on those nostalgic train of thoughts. In case you're wondering why I'm getting so 'peeter' and 'feelingse' its because I can't think of how to start this new damn post. Writer's block, they call it. Mine is the size of a darned mountain. Okay, back to the topic.
I still remember the first time I entered the world of Bakya... pretty late, just after my Class 12, considering the fact that most of my pals spent their entire lives there. It was this kind of magical place where you could eat, and eat, and eat, and there was still no way on Earth that you would go bankrupt.
Anish and I took a stroll down Arya Gowda Road once after watching a movie at his place, and I was so ravenously hungry that he suggested that we grab a bite at some place he called "Baghya". I was like, "What?", having spent all my money on Hot Chips the previous four years.
"Its a good place, dude. Very cheap, they give you loads to eat... ", he said.
Now, if you want advice on where to eat and what to eat, ring up good old Anees, as we call him. At a Hundred and Four kilos, he's spent all his life gulping down junk food from around the city. There's never a better connoisseur of food, and he's got all the good places indexed. The guy used to walk around high school, bragging about the way he dug into six different delicacies and four drinks on a single evening at West Mambalam. You might call him an extreme dhanda-soru or vekkam-keta-janmam, but nothing penetrates that bulky exterior. Okay, back to the topic.
So I entered Baghya, (or Bakya, as the name goes), and one bite of the luscious Aloo Chat was enough to convince me that this was heaven on Earth. Being a lecherous bastard, I had always imagined heaven to be a bright sunny world filled with partially dressed beautiful women who sat on my lap and popped strawberries and grapes into my mouth at regular intervals. Now I could see heaven as a dimly lit place filled with the sound of hissing oil, clanging metal, and delicious aroma of softly simmering Panneer Butter Masala. Bakya was all this and more.
It had the reputation of being phenomenally overcrowded, but we guys always caught a spot to sit and enjoy our food. It was the domain of the 'Gangs', the vetti school pasanga, the tharudhala college group, the high school self proclaimed rowdy groups, the englipis-speaking cooling glass-wearing NRI buggers, and the occasional Mama or Maami.
It was the first place to address the problem of giving 'treats'. If a guy caught you off-guard on your birthday or on some occasion and demanded: "Machan...! Treat!"
You could give him that yo-yo confident smile and say, "Sure da. Saindharam Bakya vaa.."
Aah, those were the days.
Anyways the other day I caught Anish wandering mindlessly in 7th avenue, bumping into passing vehicles, walking right into puddles of mud without even bothering to see where he was headed. For a moment there, I thought he was drunk. And then, the cogs started working in my brain. Anish? Drunk? Sheesh. No way. So I crossed the road quickly and caught up with him, saying "Dude, what happened??"
I hadn't seen the guy this serious since they shut down my school canteen due to lack of funds. He looked at me vaguely for a moment. For a second he didn't recognize me, then he starting muttering incomprehensibly: " Bakya... Paneer Fried Rice.. 38..."
The world crashed around me. All of a sudden, the world went silent, and nothing mattered anymore. My marks, the bike, the incomplete assignments, they all seemed so trivial. Turned out, Inflation was the culprit. Bleddy Manmohan Singh, the bun-vaayan in the turban, was the black mark. When the news channels were screaming about the rise in inflation and price rise, I was like, "So what, man?". Now I knew exactly what it was.
May the UPA government rest in peace. Amen.
Damn, all this typing has made me hungry again. Gotta hit Bak- no wait, I cant. *Sigh* Free...
Posted on 5:30 AM by CkisgoD and filed under | 11 Comments »
The wheel of life keeps rotating, and when it goes up, its bound to come down. Which makes me seriously doubt it, cuz my life seems to be pretty much stuck at the bottom half of the deadly cycle shit. Life was not by any means gr8 during the hols, spent some vetti times with pals... that was the highlight, everything else was pretty much okay.
And then my hols ended and college started... same old shit, new flavor, more like.
Fate, or rather, the karma of my Semesters struck around the wee hours of the 4th of June. And Jesus, was it a bolt from the blue.
Then started the steady decline of events. It was beautiful, in a violently brutal sort of way. Things falling apart, breaking down, happen with such precise detail, that for a moment you are totally mesmerized by them.
Lost the bike that had been promised for me, long ago, by my family. In something that I didn't foresee, I lost my watch due to sheer negligence, turns out getting a new one isn't exactly a piece of cake. Add to that, a lost Ericsson headset, that my dad swore he'll never buy again.
I had been promised a monthly allowance of 1k.. and that scheme went down the drain next. So I was stranded at the beginning of the new month, without two bucks to rub together. And more so, when one of the most special days in my life arrived, and left me feeling rather helpless and torn, the burden of an unkept promise weighing on my back.
But its gotta turn, this tide. I hope it does.
Maybe materialistic pleasure isn't everything, as some say. But for some reason, I can't see the story behind that. Its not a wonderful thing, being pissed off at the world all the time. Not that I'm whining about an unfair world, I think I truly deserve what I'm going through. But then, its been too long since something I always wanted happened the way I wanted it to.
This facade, this mask that I wear, is cracking. The smile spray-painted on its outer half is fading into oblivion, there lies nothing but a blank cold surface, drained of hope. Tired of Life.
It withers away, its falling now.
Posted on 7:26 AM by CkisgoD and filed under | 5 Comments »
Okay, as I am entirely vetti at home this summer, I've taken up a habit of adding useless and vetti-scene things to my blog. These things have no significance at all, and are jusht for diversion and distraction, to take your mind away from my awful posts.
There is this clock that shows you Indian Standard Time (applicable to all major indian cities) that shows you exactly the amount of time you are wasting, or have wasted here.
There is also this counter that joblessly counts the number of times my blog is hit by unassuming fellow creatures.
There is a brand new Shoutbox, whose very creators don't have the slightest idea what its uses are. But it looks quite cool, and in a consumerist spree, I had to have it.
There is also a Blogroll. Now THIS is frequently used, by people, to escape out of my blog to other half-baked ones.
Anyways, I'm creatively challenged enough to write a post about all this.
Okay, for all the people who want to yecha-thuppify at this post, use the Shoutbox, alright? [:D]
Free... Peace.
Posted on 3:02 AM by CkisgoD and filed under | 2 Comments »
Its cool, how some people ADORE Rock and some DESPISE Rock with the same intensity, you know?
Rock turns people crazy. It breeds monsters out of nerds, it breeds psychos out of saints. Like it or not, people always have something to say when it comes to Rock. Its something you use as a bridge of conversation, when you are talking to a newly introduced fellow and you run out of interesting topics to discuss without sounding boring. After you finish up well beaten tracks like Sports and Food... you slip in something like:
"You dig Rock, man?"
If the guy goes "Rock?? Shit. You know the 40th Symphony of Mozart?? Now thats music.", chuck him out of your house. Now.
If the guy goes all radiant and "Du-ude... Metallica owns, man.", you have a pal for a lifetime.
Some guys(a.k.a Dipak) never understand what the fuss is about Rock. Ear splitting guitars with drums that thrash at unearthly tempos with a gang of guys roaring into their mikes fail to make any impact on their ears. They give you lame reasons like "Blindly aping the west", "No melody", "Just a fad" and "Un-Indian."
While others(a.k.a Rest Of The World) feel the rush of adrenaline that creeps up your veins when Joey Jordison rolls out his Double-Bass drums into near immortality. These are the guys who whistle when Kirk Hammett gets going, know that Panic! At The Disco is the name of a band and are generally aware of who Kurt Cobain is and what Grunge is.
Rock as a whole is divided into a truckload of genres and sub-genres, that nobody keeps track of it anymore. The latest variants... Emo and Nu-rock almost sound like Pop, with some guitars thrown in. They sound like BackStreet Boys on Amps, and are the favorite target of ridicule from purists, who still swear by good old AC-DC, Metallica and Iron Maiden.
You gotta pick your kind of thing. It's almost the music of the working class, who sweat and toil to earn their bread, and who use it as a tool to rant and rage and point their middle-fingers at their employers living in their suites. It is also the music of the Freak, a rebel in his own universe, who finds solace in its self-demeaning lyrics and decays to nothingness. It is the music of the young, and the old. It presents hitherto unknown lives in a song. It means so much to so many. It is also, primarily, a tool to ease out and party when you are hitting your hols.
Rock is also a reason for you to screw up your face in disgust and say.. "N Sync?? Yuck..."
P.S: Metalheads listen to Pop too.. but they'll never admit it.
Posted on 5:11 AM by CkisgoD and filed under | 9 Comments »
Okay.... this news may be as fresh as cold pie to some of you fellas... and also as hot as... u kno,,free... to some others, but a movie starring Robert De Niro and Al Pacino is releasing this September, I think its a worldwide release.
Its funny, how a guy waits all year for summer vacation to arrive and when it finally does, spends it literally thinking of what to do all the time.
Alright, its not funny. Its crazy. And I for one, clearly have no idea of how to spend my time, so I guess I'm jobless enough to write a post about it. Anyways, I got some options.
I could shift my ass up and down town a bit and actually do a pretty useless jig of In Plant Training, as they call it. Its the shorter version of a longer sentence that goes "parking your bum in some Tech company for a week and collecting a pointless certificate at the end of it all to have a shot at a job you know in your wildest dreams you won't ever get."
Or maybe I could actually roam around with pals to good old hangout spots in Chennai, spending time either eating or kalaaichifying some poor bastard just cuz he's too bored to retort. Or I could try my hand at Football... (pretty late in life, yeah, but hell I'm not playing for a League?!!).
Or I could just ramble on in this damn blog cuz I know GS is reading this... Jeezuz Christ, he must be suicidal.
Or maybe I could try making a movie. Sounds cool when you say it, doesn't it? Makes you sound like Christopher Nolan, with a 2 megapixel camera maybe. But hey, its a start!
Jagan and I came up with this idea mainly, after months of tirelessly watching the best movies in the whole wide world. You see a movie like Requiem For A Dream, you see a movie like Trainspotting, and then you end up seeing a movie like Kuruvi. And then you realize that if Dharani can direct such a lame-ass movie(understatement, its much worse), so can you.
So Jagan came up with this idea, he said "Macha, lets direct a short movie. You know, just for timepass."
I was, like, "You think? Yeah... maybe we can. But we need a better story than Kuruvi and a good camera."
Maybe I sound like a desperate nerd trying to impress readers, but I write stories. Used to, but still can, I guess. So all we needed was a camera..! And a few guys to add up for fun. Turned out our dear friend Ram owned a handycam, something thats still considered high-class in my circle. (Yelai-India)
So then, we decided to give it a shot and direct a pretty serious movie, the story for which is currently under construction. As far as the crew goes, we are open for recruitment...!!!! Its an offer you can't refuse, we give you a job AND a spoof name of a famous Filmmaker. Sounds gr8?? Then join the team...!
He he... maybe we will premiere it at Mouli's house. Only, don't tell him... he'll lock up his gates then.
CREW:
Direction, Story- Sani Ratnam (Mani Ratnam)(Urs truly)(that means ME)
Screenplay- Quentin Cappuccino (Tarantino)(Jagan)
Assistant Director- David Puncture (Fincher)(Dipak)
Cinematography- James Cameraman (Cameron)(Ram)
Music, Soundtrack- Shyam Anderson (Sam Anderson)
Singers- Harish Ration-illaya (Reshammiya)
Producer- Mouli Srinivasan, though we haven't told him the good news yet.
Cheers then... until my next post. Adios.
Posted on 11:03 PM by CkisgoD and filed under | 7 Comments »
Posts
