Thursday, December 30, 2004

Gaia's fucking pissed off.

She's rumbled from deep within and one tidal wave has shown her might. We little beings, insignificant in the face of time, absolutely powerless, can only scurry around looking for succour; a shield from the wrath, shelter from the storm.

If the earth's entire history is compressed into one year, humanoids make their first appearance on the planet at 10.30 p.m on New Year's Eve. And all of recorded human history begins at 11.59 p.m, December 31st. It's only taken us one minute to do what we've done to the planet. She couldn't have picked a more appropriate time to let us know she isn't too thrilled about it.

Think about that when you begin your party-fuelled 60-second countdown this year. And think about what we are all actually counting down to.

Ha ha ha!!

Monday, December 27, 2004

So, it's a time for reflection, eh?

What did 2004 mean to me? Was it an oh-so-wonderful year? Did I get all I wanted? Shall I wonder if 2004 will turn out to be significant in my life? Shall I wish for 2005 to be even better, wish all and sundry a Very Happy and Prosperous New Year, generally beam all around and make like it's a HUGE transition? Shall I wax eloquent?

Naahh, screw it.

I feel quite...empty. And it feels quite strange.

There's only one person I want to spend New Year's eve with. And not more than 5 other people I'd like to also be there. I don't want to 'partaaayyyyy' anymore, I don't want 50 million watts of dhik-chik dhik-chik, I don't want 35 half naked VJs/DJs prancing to the 'most mindblowing party of the year!!!' You may kindly shove the 'hottest dance troupes' from Paris or Pathhargatti or whereverthefuck where the sun don't shine. I don't want all this maha pressure of having FUN!! or being seen at this 'do' or that 'blast'.

Being in the extremely 'whatever' mood I am in right now, I don't really know what it is I do want. But I do know that the places I go to and the things I do won't matter at all, compared to who I am with. Of course, this is not something new or wonderfully unique by itself...but it is for me.

There is still a temptation to analyse the year. But no.

What did Narcissus do at the edge of the pool?

He reflected.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

The Beauty and The Beast (animated)
Titanic
The Object of My Affection
My Best Friend’s Wedding
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam
Kuch Kuch Hota Hai
Frequency

Films I will most probably own...and possibly never watch.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Monks and Russians.

...and another one gone, another one gone...

This weekend, I will be saying goodbye to a very dear friend. Yet again. It’s hard and it takes its toll on me, but I can’t really escape it – only accept it. The hardest part is realising that it’s ending just as it is beginning.

It will be a while before I hear that familiar voice going "Duuuuuude" on the other end of the line again. And forces beyond my control take over and before I know it, I’m grinning ear to ear and going "duuuhuhuuuude!" myself. It will be a while before I hear that hearty laugh and the mocking of the south Indian accent (Saaar! Wun saaambar pliss). It will be a while before someone wants me to come on a trip, and tries to convince me so strongly ("See, I don’t care. Your balls are coming, you can join them if you want to...").

It will be a while before I hear "Bitch, get your ass here NOW, we are gonna partaayy!" – at 11 at night, when there would be just 3 of us. And it would still be kickass fun. It will be a while before we throw a party and I get a call every 20 minutes asking me where the fuck I am. And it will be a while before I have such fun again, before I laugh so hard again. It will be a while before HBM is as much fun again.

And it will be a while before I forget the serious talks. Before I forget the strong clasping of wrists and the drunken promises. It will take a long time to forget this emotion and the bonding, something I haven’t felt in years. But anything I might forget will only be replaced with something even more memorable. It will be a while before I feel someone values my friendship so, and feels I have much to offer. I do man, I do – you ain’t seen nothing yet.

All that remains is one night. One night to build on bonds strong; to ensure the bonds can stretch to infinity and back, but will not wither through space and time.

Here’s to a mountain of a man, with an even bigger heart – I will miss you, Biggy.

May we reunite someday in the spirited company of Monks and Russians, my friend.

Charrrrasssssss!!!
Acoustic orange.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

The Triassic : A Review.

Tri-ass-ic : a person so full of crap he/she should be given a third hole from which to let it out in a controlled fashion, so as to avoid unexpected explosion and mass destruction.
(‘third’, seeing how the mouth is also apparently being used for the same purpose as the original hole.)

People are usually more than willing to help out with the formation of this third hole, for the aforementioned Triassic. Prime examples of such specimens can usually be found roaming freely in most corporate offices. One does not need to bother oneself with capturing one of these; one usually needs to be concerned about getting captured by one of these.

You might have heard the usage of this term in another context, as in ‘Triassic Period’, referring to palaeontology. The meaning of the term is actually far more complicated, but a simplified usage is given below:
(to a deserving specimen) "You are Triassic. Period."

Make no mistake, Triassics are not stupid. Upon your delivering the above statement, they might display tremendous intelligence and knowledge and ask “Are you calling me a dinosaur??” Of course, deciphering this might take time, considering it will be drowned in the other crap that comes out of the Triassic’s mouth. At this point, it would be advisable to laugh (the ‘work laugh’) and mumble incoherently, before moving away to the printer area. If you are already in the printer area, you are well and truly shitted, because there’s nowhere else you can go – the bathroom’s occupied by the person who was smart enough to escape before you, the water cooler’s too obvious, and everyone knows you do nothing productive at your desk anyway.

The language of the Triassic (refer paragraph above) is difficult, not because it is difficult to understand but because one must sift through so much crap to get to anything of substance. It is not unlike going through a mound of turd looking for an undigested piece of food – thoroughly disgusting, thoroughly pointless. For one’s own safety, one should maintain a safe distance from the Triassic, especially at Crap Time. This time can be anticipated when you see the Triassic standing up in his cubicle and looking around. This behaviour is sometimes also known as 'prairie dogging' - one small noise in some corner of the office and he's up like a rocket, already clearing his throat, practically salivating at the impending opportunity to crap forth.

In the future, new drilling machines will be developed to assist with the formation of the third hole. This will be because current physical methods, though largely satisfying, will be seen as crude and inefficient. The machines will come with facilities to attach torture devices, which can be installed upon employee discussion and consensus. Exciting developments include the attaching of taps, which are envisioned to function much like floodgates. The optimum location of this hole has not been established and test results are awaited.

Remember, early identification and holing of Triassics can make a difference!


This is a public service message brought to you by The Non-Sensei.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Chewths

I seem to have a serious problem pronouncing the D in ‘Madam’ – I just can NOT bring myself to say it.

Even if I absolutely have to, I feel the urge to go yackthooo after saying it that way. And if that wasn't bad enough, it has to be pronounced 'meydum'. If I don't say it, I run the risk of being thought of as ‘posh’ or ‘showing off’ or something.
Ugggghhhh.
Thank God for 'gaaru' (the Telugu equivalent of 'ji')

And then there's mera kaabil dost who is a major fan of mastication. Lunch time is torture. I watch/hear him eat, and its...just...Aaaarrrggghhh!! It's not like watching someone who has something stuck in their teeth - you can just look away. No, no. The sound follows you, like the eyes in a painting. There is no escape. It's always there, gnawing away silently at my brain, distorting perception, till I can almost see the pieces of cauliflower on my plate stand up and march away in orderly lines of two.

I tried correction by example. Na uh. No use. Then, others join the table. And suddenly it feels like they're ALL doing it! Just to irritate me to death! Aaarrgghh!! No No...get away from me you...you...Chewths! If I were to mention this, trying to put it as delicately as possible, or mention it in a humorous fashion, I'm dead sure the guy will say something sarcastic like 'Oh, UK mein aise karte kya? Hum gareeb log India mein aisi karte bhai...'. And I'll end up the bad guy. I mean, come on! It's not 'posh' or snobbish to have basic table manners. You can sit in your undies and fart till you're floating 3 inches above the ground when you're eating alone. I really couldn't care less. But please have the courtesy to respect other peoples' sensibilities when eating in a group.

It's not like I'm asking you to wear suits and use 4 fucking sets of cutlery is it?? I'm not even asking for intelligent conversation (I've given up on that), or discussion beyond office gossip and exchanging tips on how to screw the company over in every single teeny weeny way you can, am I?? All I beg of you is that you chew with your...frigging...mouths...shut! That's not too much to ask, is it? If I can do it, why can't you? You're always dying to pull one over me in every other department, when it comes to the job. Go ahead. Knock yerself out.

But puh-leeeeaaassee. Let me cling desperately to the remaining shreds of my sanity. And listen to the sweet sounds of NOTHING while we eat.

Thank you.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

NonSensica III

So, what do you do?
Yeah, so I’m an actor.
Oh wow, that’s great! Television?
No, I’m into cinema. Movies, y’know.
Ah. I see. Film.
Yeah, cinema fascit...ingitri...I like movies. Yeah.
Hmm, yes. Cinema is a great medium. Visual representation of complex ideas.
Yeah, yeah.
It must be really challenging to be a part of making celluloid magic!
Magic? No, no, I’m an actor. All natural too – no celluloid!
Umm, yeah, that’s right. My mistake. (Big mistake!)
Did you say ‘big’?
Err..no no. I didn’t say anything.
Okay.
So, what kind of movies do you make?
Action movies.
Oh? Is it fun? Do you enjoy it?
Oh yeah! I’m a hardcore action movie fan! Totally hardcore! Yeah!
That’s nice. You sure are enthusiastic about it. Heh heh.
Yeah!
So, what was your last movie called?
‘Blast From The Fast’
Huh? Heh heh, sorry, I thought you said ‘fast’ there...
Fast?
Yeah. In the title of your movie? That you just mentioned? It must’ve been ‘Blast From The Past’, right?
No, no – FAST.
Fast?
Fast.
Ummm... isn’t the phrase ‘Blast from the PAST’?
Phrase?
Err...never mind. So, why ‘fast’?
‘Cos it’s a quickie movie. Y’know?
Quickie? Oh, I get it. Ha ha ha! That’s funny! What a pun! Because you had a short shooting schedule, eh?
Shooting? No, no. We were making a movie.
(.............)
Are you alright, darlin’? You have a funny look on your face.
(fucking moron...) No, no…I’m fine. Heh heh. So, what part did you play?
Yeah, I loved the part. It was really good. It was a good part. Yeah…I could really grow in it.
Sigh. Ok, I think I’ll rent it tonight. What’s the name of your character?
Yeah, I play HG3. Yeah, that’s how you’ll see it in the end credits.
Whoa! That’s an interesting name. Very sci-fi, in keeping with the title eh? But it’s a little short don’t you think?
Yeah. No. The director said brev...breti...he said short is good. But not always! Haw haw!
Err...ok. Whatever you say. So, what’s HG3 mean?
Yeah. Horny Guy 3. That’s me!
.... .... ....
...........
Oh, that’s nice. Good for you. Ok, bye.
Huh? You leavin’? So soon? I haven’t even shown you mah tattoo yet...!


[Edit : neither of the participants in the above conversation is me. It was supposed to be an idea of how a blind date with a porn actor might go...]

Sunday, December 12, 2004

One year

It's been one year.

I missed my blog's birthday because I thought it was later this month. Apparently, it was right at the beginning. This is most definitely a time for reflection. I think this past year comes close to the best, if not THE best, year of my life. And the blog does have a lot to do with it. For introducing me to it, and helping me set it up, I must thank my friend Australopithecus - thanks, man.

I have met some of the most wonderful people here; there would be no point in trying to list them out - the list is just too long. In any case, they know who they are. And I know who they are. I will never forget them, and that's all that matters. I have made friends in many parts of the world and I know I will find familiarity and help wherever I go. That is a comforting thought.

I have read some of the best writers on offer. I have been humbled by their brilliance. I have found validation in them and from them, and the inspiration to go on. I would not have written half the things I have if I didn't feel that these writers extraordinaire thought they were halfway decent. I have learnt tons of things about writing, about online etiquette, about pain, about expression, about raw passion...about myself. Any period of time spent learning (not just studying) is very valuable and important to me. Few years in my life come close to this one in that aspect.

I found love. I found friends and I'm reasonably sure 3 or 4 of them are the 'through thick and thin' types, not the everyday garden variety. For this, I am grateful to the blog, because I probably would never have met them otherwise. Some might say I have rather romantic or archaic views on friendship. Well, maybe, but I'd rather have those and hope that I'll find someone who shares them, and who wants and values my friendship as much as I do theirs, than have empty, emotion-less 'friendships' which would probably be better described as acquaintances. I want to be moved.

This blog has become a part of my life, an extension of me. I live here as Non-Sensei. I AM Non-Sensei. And I like it.

I will end with my first posts, and over the next few days, I think I'll do a retrospective over the past year...and maybe explain what was behind some of the posts and poems. I'd like to remember too!


<<< Wednesday, December 03, 2003


blurb

hmm..other people's blogs seem to make so much more sense, they are so much profounder...maybe it just takes time.
Funny thing - time. Think of all it means, all its implications, the way it controls more than most other things we know in our daily lives. In the end, we find ourselves defined by it. We are children of the age we were born in. We live for a certain while and whatever other obstacles we may overcome in life, the one thing we can never beat is time.
And to think we only have a very, very vague idea of what it is...
Like the man said "Tiiiiiiime..is on my side...yes it is..."


// spouted by Non-Sensei @ 12/3/2003 02:22:35 PM
Comment (0)


I hope I can erase some of this gibberish someday...like I was just saying..it's only words..and words are all I have..to take your medulla oblangata away...

// spouted by Non-Sensei @ 12/3/2003 12:51:18 PM
Comment (0)


umm..first tentative steps into a world Im not sure I belong in..or want to belong in...


// spouted by Non-Sensei @ 12/3/2003 12:41:56 PM
Comment (0)

>>>

Friday, December 10, 2004

Strangeness

So I've been getting up at the unearthly hour of 7 am for two days. Straight.

(and those who know me go :-O!)

All for the love of cricket. Aside, I also need some bloody exercise (like the cute dietician said), so went for "Corporate Cricket Team Selections". Don't miss the quotes. Messed up yesterday, but seeing how I went for fun and exercise, got both in ample measure. Went again today, semifunctional because things are paining because muscles barely alive were rudely woken up from their peaceful comas. Did better. So, all of a sudden, 8 months since I've been even near a bat or ball, I find meself in the cricket team and being introduced to the 'stars'. I thought it was common social interaction thingie, but I come to the office and realise it was more.

My boss comes up and says 'So I hear you are a talented cricketer?'. And I'm thinking yeah yeah, how nice of you to come and pull my leg. And so, in my infinite wisdom and with incredible panache I go 'hehehehehehehe...no no...hehehehehe'. Then he told me about the conversation he overheard in another office, between some corporate team seniors, including the best bat. They were saying something about new find, and the guy may even make it to the team for the Corporate Cup (which is between companies and quite a matter of prestige). Bollocks, I say. There's quite a bit of politicking that happens for this, so I don't think it'll happen. Besides, right now it's all about the exercise and rediscovering my love for the game.

Anyway, so Saar goes up to them and says "ahem...is this the same Non-Sensei we're talking about? Him??? You sure???" And apparently they confirmed. So imagine my friggin' surprise when I hear this. I'm going like all 'whoaaaaa....'. In my opinion, I did a fair job, but that's about it. And hell, if I can get out of there with all body parts intact, can avoid getting hit in places 'that God only meant to be treated nicely', and be able to reproduce and produce non-mutants (don't want to be adding to the genetic damage now, do we?) - I'll be happy. But hitting the ball in the sweet spot of the bat, feeling the *crack*, and watching the ball whizz away is an indescribable feeling. :-)

Speaking of body parts, thanks to my earlier lazyassedness and suddent spurt of activity now, EVERY fucking thing hurts! My shoulders, neck, back, legs...some muscles whose existence I was barely aware of...damn, I need to get into better shape. Hopefully, I'll get some regular exercise from now on.

And THEN, we have a music club meeting today. A club that I, now that I think of it, rather stupidly, pushed into existence. So now, of course I am expected to actually DO something in it. And once again, I'm all like 'whoaaaaa nelly...hold on a guitar-pickin' minute there...you mean 'do' as in activity?'. Sigh. So now, I am to play the guitar for some upcoming program, and sing, and select songs. Why stop there eh? Why don't I dance too eh? Maybe I can paint portraits while juggling some thing and reciting Shakespeare too, eh? Go on - ask, ask! Dammit.

So much to do, and most things start off being due 'yesterday'. Dammit Why the hell do I have such a hard time saying 'no' to anything? Yesterday, Adi said 'you coming to Goa or what?' and I almost said 'yes' without thinking of the mountain of shit I have to burrow out of first. Sigh.

So lathat.

I need a priority check.

Right fucking now.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Catharsis

No, let me spew tonight
This vile disgust inside
Seeping through my pores
Burning, corroding, eroding
the coarse fabric of my being

The green liquid reaches a crescendo
the screams bubble; burst
You missed the innuendo
Then she came along
and slaked the thirst

Begone, harbinger of gloom
Don’t try so hard
to squeeze blood from wine
Go dissolve your life
and let me distill mine.

Monday, December 06, 2004

Suppossibly

And there’s a new word – ‘suppossibly’

There is, suppossibly, a purpose to all this.

In all our years of knowing each other, all the trials and tribulations;
with you writing mind-numbingly well and my grudging acquiescence
with my greenness, and the inherent pun
through all the love-hate, emotions bubbling
as undercurrents, yet in spate
We are, suppossibly, friends.

Everytime I think I have broken clear, new surreptitious connections are made in this increasingly tangled web. Not your fault, though it’s not like you would accept it if it was. Where will this end? Will you be the axeman for my third sacrifice?

We can never truly be friends – you resist too much, and I have grown to be indifferent. We can never be enemies – there is too much history, too much blood has flown from the altars of various relationships, at least for my part.

An inexplicable sadness envelops me, as a shadow does all our bonds. Sadness for the cruel twists that now see us straining at opposite ends of inextricable, sinewy strands. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe this was doomed right from the start. Maybe our constitutions would never have permitted a true friendship – an acquaintance and feeble attempts at familiarity at best. How very sad.

It’s all, suppossibly, just chemical.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

In my opinion, whoever said “money can’t buy happiness” was a moron.

Of course it can! Do you see anyone handing out Belgian liqueur chocolates for free?? At least for me, many many of the things that make me happy cost friggin’ money, dammit. Ok, in its defence, maybe the underlying meaning of the statement was that you don’t need money to be happy, which I don’t argue with. And conversely, having money doesn’t guarantee happiness. The secret, maybe, lies in being satisfied with what you can buy. Happiness is to be found in satisfaction. When the buying power leads to greed in the money-happiness balance is when one is doomed never to find either – no happiness and never enough money.

But don’t give me this money can’t buy happiness bollocks – that’s just the Defence of the Sour-Grapes Dipshit.