as life goes on, it goes on. This is not a cliche, just something that happens, isnt it ?

So,what i was trying to say ....was something that can change the direction of how humanity has functioned for so far,and it is ..uh...uh... I forgot, sincerely i did.

Anyways, the ligament is healing finally. Thanks to the prayer of millions of my well wishers, sob sob.

Maybe its time to give this blog a rest. I took enough of it anyways, and its always good to share some of your sorrows with the world. You are still miserable, but not alone...which is a good thing.

When I climb up and down the stairs with limp, people still look at me wth sympathy ... But things are getting better,easier,brighter.

Neymar and Day 8

Day 8

Quite riduclously, I have decided to not force myself in any endeavour. It’s like an olympic athelete practising only when he ‘feels’ that the time is right. I mean there’s no simpler way of fuc&^^g up your work than overthinking about it and doing nothing in reality. 

So, I wrote the first chapter of a brilliant novel. I have several such chapters written about. Maybe I should write a book with only the first chapters in them. It would be called the “the story of…” . It would win the Pulitzer and absolutely no one would get it. They’d call me to the award ceremony to explain the book and I’d show up drunk and naked. They’d call me an artist and I’d get to do everything and not be condemned for it, ever. 

Anyhow, after that, I went for a coffee and a discussion with my old friend. he turned up with his old relative, who had no one else to talk to. The meeting was a damp squib. No one could actually say what they wanted to and we stared at each other, uncomfortably, then read uncomfortably and then just sat. His relative, toyed with his keys and helmet for quarter of an hour till we decided to pardon him and ended the meet. 

This time no one took pity on me. I can walk without a limp now, so it’s no use exaggerating my movements. I only wish that my footballing fans weren’t so sad. I must tell them, that I’ve passed my torch to Neymar.

ps:  He didn’t take it, but does it matter? 

7th disinclined day

Day 7 

Curioser and curioser are the ways of the world. The entire day was spent in the single minded pursuit fo pleasure. Of course it had to do with some serious shit that was coming later on. 

I saw myself wake up and do several twisted exercises ( yoga) and then go on to pretend to open a book and then to watch youtube videos while it tanned under my lamp. It was a revelation to me ( no joke). In fact, there were two

1. Unless we’re ready for something in life, no amount of facilities, tools can make us strive. For, just half an hour before the exam, I steadily went through the book and learnt whatever I had needed to. Maybe, this is how all the exams should be approached, first I should wait for appropriate amount of pressure to build up and only thne apply myself. There’s no use forcing yourself for such a thing. The heart knows and it knows too well! 

2. Maybe, in our lives we all have a fixed amount of pleasures and pains to take. There’s no easy way out, because the process of going down, taking the pain in fact readies you makes your mind able to experience happiness. A never ending stream of happiness would bore us. The pain opens our mind, strengthens it, makes it centred on the things that matter. 

It was an exam. A tough exam in 45 degrees celcius heat and humidity. The struggle was not to die. I won. Later I celeberated by eating at a place called ‘food and health’. They use fresh cabbage leaves, brown bread and don’t use commerical sause. For that, they double the prices. the curious thing about both the places was that as I sauntered in with one of my leg bandaged and had to climb stairs carefully while clutching the rails, they assumed great pity towards me. I mean, I got the better seat, but I paid by overacting, exaggerating my broken ligament. I became a character that they wanted me to be in their sympathetic minds. IN fact, we do it everyday, without anyone giving instructions or anyone receiving it, it’s the basic law of nature, humans fit where they think others want them to, maybe even when it’s our own choice, it’s merely what others didn’t want and yet directed or what we want to project onto them. You can’t leave out the others, never!

I had wanted to open a restruant. I would have called it “After Gyms”. Apparently some one got the idea before me and had the cash to make it a reality. Do we all have ideas thrown at us from some divine source at the same time and thus some of us make it and others, well they blog about it? Whatever the reason, I do beleive in the simaltaneous ideation process. Must hasten up my novels. 

PS; Don’t wait, whatever it is, do it now. 

PPS: Please don’t do something that’d be bad in long term. 

DoNuts and the 6th day

Day 6 

I really wanted to eat donuts today. I don’t like them too much normally, but the very thought of them makes my eyes water, because I can’t go to the shop. The ligament is a curious piece of semi muscle, semi bone which won’t heal at either’s pace. And without that teeny tiny ligament in place, I can’t drive, walk or fly ( I couldn’t do that earlier as well, if you were wondering). 

So, my days are like one of those sad ‘Pahari’ paintings, where the sad subject is always waiting for her husband to come back, perhaps with glazed donuts and finely brewed coffee to go with it. In my case, I wait for any of my friends who’d be willing to take the detour to visit my house. For some weird reason, all 6 of my friends stay in the 6 different corners of the city, maybe because I don’t like crowding that much? 

 One of my friends had come a few days back to take my advice on selecting a cycle. He had a car, so we went around checking out various shops. It’s crazy how the market has changed in the last 10-15 years. I had bought a cycle back then for a meagre 2000 rupees and it lasted me a long time ( untill the security guard stole it during a stormy night, that bugger). Now, they’ve shotten up to hundreds of thousands. Even the cheap ones are ten times more expensive and no one sold the ordinary cycles. ( By the way I loved Montrane cycles, the curves and the weight and the effect of the gears … ) 

That got me thinking that as our lives is dominated by all of the different products, I think even our culture changes to accomodate them and what happens then is that those who don’t have the means to buy those products, get excluded. Earlier on, maybe it was an exclusion from the pleasure, but now you’re excluded from your friends/relatives and everyone else who can afford the things  that make up our culture. ( Not that I am complaining, just observing, from my spot near the window, with a broken knee, a broken foot, a paining shoulder and finally an overused finger that refuses to type anymore…. I guess I shouldn’t have told god to bring it on earlier, sigh.) 

Day 5

Day 5: Making Imaginary Friends

So Obama didn’t call to talk over his Syrian plan. Big deal, I don’t wanna talk to him either. The things with politicians is that once they become too big, they don’t care about the vast population of the unligamented. 

A friend called me up today. He had lived in the US for several years, before coming back to bust his a** in civil services exam and did a pretty good job at the latter part. The looser couldn’t qualify, haha! ( Neither could I, but I have immense self pity) He said he felt like he was missing something in his life, but couldn’t tell what. I feel that all the time, like I was a Messi who never got a football or something. 

But that’s life, isn’t it? You grow up with unrealistic expectations and then your subconscious gets itself in tangles to get a sense of your ordinary life, which you never accept. Rise, be aware that you give meaning to your life and you are free to choose your destiny; that’s what I wanted to tell him, but then I told him it happened to me too and we sighed silently at our fates. I hope I don’t end up becoming a regret filled old croak. 

I was doing some knee flexes today, I felt like an 80 year old doing the silly stuff of slow bending and raising. Is that how my life’s gonna turn out? I had been warned of overexerting myself, that it would hurt in old age, but goddamnit that shouldn’t have happened at twentyfuck&*#g five. Did I tell you about the effects of isolation on the human psyche? 

A couple of my friends had planned to lift up my gloom and crash a wedding. Apparently they were nabbed by the Aliens. I know it’s sudden, but why else wouldn’t they pick up their phones. Maybe they were trying to make fun of the poor invalid! Curse be on them…“may thou suffer a limp erection twice with the girl of your dreams” ( Wonder why Ancient Indian sages weren’t similarly creative at cursing). 

If Modi/Obama/Merkel/Putin all of you are together, eating popcorns and reading this, then let me tell you that it’s been a very, very long time since you all called. I’m warning you that you’ll be cursed if things keep on going like this (and this includes you Merkel and you know what I mean. )

If Rapunzel was a man and other weird stories

Day 4 

I have officially opened the windows! What an adventure, I mean ain’t I living on the edge? The fresh wizz of the passing petrol munching vehicles and the fumes of the shit that dogs like to do just outside my window. I mean I might have to caution my dear readers and fans ( out there in the vast, vast, vast universe, someone is there ). 

So, I have been drying my long hair near the window ( I never did cut em’) and I realised that none of the girls that passed below the window( on the first floor) tried to do a reverse Cinderella on me ( Can’t remember the name of the long haired girl who’s kept in the tower and the prince climbs up the hair… and so on) . 

I mean, I have heard no stories, zero of women doing all that stuff just so that they can sleep with the boy. Women always like to be chased and then cajoled and it’s never the men who get the same kind of treatment ( imagine girls running after you(hot girls*) ) and climbing up my balcony if I let a kiss fly and stuff. 

In real life, maybe I’d be charged with some sort of indecency, immorality clause (we have a truckload of them) for showing my open mane to the girl and trying to seduce her with kisses. 

In theory, feminism should have done that, right? Made genders equal, but I have a nagging feeling that it’s a very biased kind of we’re gonna get back at you kind of movement. There are no feminists marching up and down the road to get them equality in sanitation department, it’s always the good jobs. Not very equal I think. 

Not that I am saying that it’s the fault of the girls that the present situation is present. But the direction that the ‘reforms’ are taking is more of the entitlement kind of view rather than viewing every human as a person, without the need of having markers for every subdivision. 

PS  I might get hounded by the offenazi for having my own opinion on the issue. The best way out is to praise whosoever is the most vocally offended. Go progressive career women with networking skills ! PCWNS!

PPS I think it was Rapunzel 

Day 3

Day 3 

Whadaap fellow human beings. It’s a joy to be alive, joy to be breathing, joy to be reading some inspirational shit that makes you tizzy with the acceptance of your injury as the masterplan of God for something nicer than you could have otherwise imagined. ( I like stuffed words sandwich )

It’s not all that bad once you get used to the changed rhythms of life. I mean, for one thing, I feel an increased solidarity with my typwriter, which had in the past been ignored for more adventurous pursuits and I have been saved from several of the irksome tasks that the household imposes on it’s living entities.

Oh Anit! He has had an injury, how can we ask him to fetch stuff and take old people to the doctor. Yes, you heard that right, taking old men to the doctor was the task that I had been charged with, the singularly most torturing job that I could have been given. 

I mean, my grandfather is alright, doesn’t grumble/complain and even gives me treats to inspire me for the next trip… but nothing can prepare you for the mind numbing horror of waiting lines, of having to see sick, dying, crying, vomiting people stand next to you and even though you can feel their pain, you can’t do anything, because obviously you’re not a doctor and euthanasia is fashionable only for the horses. 

My grandmother is another matter altogether.!Her hypochondriacism has been well documented over the past decades and it doesn’t help that the doctor told her the umpteenth time that it’s just gas that’s been troubling her and ‘not really’ a heart attack. I mean, you wait and wait and wait and the doctor basically tells you to fart off! Now, since this has happened for a record 8 times, and each time the heart turned out to be just as fine, I was disinclined to pay attention to her next time. I mean, its tough acting like a good guy. 

Anyways, now that my own life has been invalidated by a ‘twist’ of fate, me and my typewriter are going to enjoy the recklessness of freedom in my bed.

Day 2

DAY 2 

The pain of the ligament, the acute and obtrusive pain of that sonofatendon drives you crazy. I mean I already had a broken shoulder, a broken foot, groin pain and now this. I had thought that since I am already a full bag of pains, this additional one wouldn’t make much more of a difference. How wrong was I, how very wrong. 

Thing about ligaments is that they stabilise your knee ( did I tell you it was the knee) and so it’s not about bending my knee which is a problem, the problem arises when there’s even a slight side to side movement, which means that there’s no chance of sleep coming, is there with this hound on my leg (Oh me, oh the sorry me, oh my pain. Enough self sympathy now, focus!) 

See, I must clarify my principled stand against medicines. I beleive that India is a fairly advanced counterfeiting economy. Wherever the chance arises, people will mix some lime in your medicine ( life gives lime here!) and then you hear all that shit about resistance building up in the body. So, the point is that unless necessary, I avoid medicines and apparently this pain doesn’t qualify in my inner metric system. 

Invalid life 

I owe some explanations for the title, the title always owes some explanation, the poor bugger. See it was not my fault ( judge saab!), I have been playing football for several months now and although I concede I didn’t pay much attention to the ligamentary aspect of the game ( who does!), I was damned surprised when it broke off with a twist and a fall and there I was, instantly invalidated. 

The doctor didn’t offer condolence. He was used to this kind of shit. He only told me that my condition requires two months of bed rest. The word bed rest reverberated through my mind ( alà Ekta Kapoor) and I had to give up on my professional footballing career. 

Sorry Manchester, you will have to keep Rooney.