i

i enjoy silence coz i hate yapping my way into meaningless dialogues.
i insist on saying things as they are than saying them as they should be said.
i prefer the vulnerability of being human; disregard the confidence of being insurmountable.
i like being a misfit, can’t be a politically correct crowd pleaser.
i fall for an honest confession, loathe a sugarcoated explanation.
i love getting high to reason, hate getting so much so as to lose all.
i sound self obsessed, still, find it better than having no voice at all.
i love what i am; can never be anybody else...

Freedom

A cold rush, gulped down. A brain freeze.
Silence. Deafening silence.
Sleep, a far fetched dream.
A road winding up to the infinite of heights. Winding, still winding, winding on to a point of no return.
A nomad’s journey. The feeling of being the master of destiny.
And then, an unwanted, reluctant turn.
Back to the civilization. Back to the crowds.
Why? What for? Why again?
Not for me, this worldly world.
Give me the mountains and the winding road.
And I shall feel alive again…

Arbit Wisdom

After you’ve lost yourself in a world of your own amidst the darkness, it gets very depressing when the light comes on...

Arbit Wisdom

When sleep starts playing hard to get, dump the bitch and stay awake...

‘Cinderella’

Maybe she's just a dream. Or maybe a beautiful reality carved out for that very dream.
Maybe she's alone. Maybe she's just so to dispel the solitude.
Maybe she's ethereal. Maybe so that she can dissolve into the dark and make it rapturous.
Maybe she's an enigma. Maybe so to end all mysteries.
Maybe she's a mere thought. Maybe so to become the only deliberation…

A toast to love!

She's often been around when I write for this black & white, blue headlined virtual scroll on the cyberspace. And on one such instance, she asked why hadn't I keyed in any thought that even mentioned her remotely. That when I keep emphasizing that she is a very important part of my life, why can't she a see a single sentence for how I feel for her. I apparently had no answer.
With my heart riddled with guilt, I held her tight and promised her that come summers and I'd write a really long post declaring my unconditional love for her.
Now finally that the summers are here, let me pour my heart out for the love of my life. You know that you really really deserve it coz what would I do without you by my side, sweetheart! I've been shying away from saying this I know, but this one goes out only for you.
You're better than all the women because:
You never make me feel low.
You don't ever pretend to be sweet.
You don't give a damn about how I look.
You always keep quiet and let me do all the talking.
You're always chilled out, smooth and sparkling.
No matter what time it is and I want to see you, you never say no when I come to pick you up.
You gel well with F1 & soccer.
You let me enjoy rock.
You make me dance to your tunes only for a little while.
You never mind being left in the cold.
You never keep me waiting and open up instantly.
You urge me to go for the others and don't crib when I have them.
I can share you with friends.
I can lay my hands on you without hesitation.
You give me head unconditionally.
You're cheaper by the dozen.
Oh my lovely bubbly bottled affair of malted barley and hops, keep my soul drenched in your fizz! Cheers to you, my love!
*Burp*

PS: Beer me please, ladies!

Arbit Wisdom

Of all the questions in the world, the ones starting with a 'why' are the most difficult to answer...

If wishes were clones...

If there was one wish that God promised me a fulfillment of, I would wish everyone around me to be like me. And then sit back and enjoy, waiting for the disaster to happen. Because everyone would then be walking around clueless, aimless, searching for nothing. So harmless yet so vehemently dangerous with the potential to stumble upon something utterly catastrophic!

May be a fool!

You get caught up between 'it could be good' and 'its just not meant to be'. One moment you're hopeful, unsure the other. Is it too early for it to be a sound judgment or too late to be a regret? This is actually the state you're wary of but your own masterstroke of carelessness lands you bang in the middle of it. Happy fools day, you say to yourself. But for you, it just doesn't show up only once in April!

Misjudged

Just when I was pretty convinced that a dear friend of mine has completely been denied a sense of humour by the Almighty, He proves my sense of judgment completely wrong.
It's 3 in the night, we are stopped at a check-point and the cop asks my friend for his license. And voila, out he pops a "challan" that has not been settled since 20 days...
Like a hound that has smelled blood, the cop starts digging for the papers, the insurance, the 'palushan' certificate - the works. Everything is presented, everything. But a cop is a cop - always on a mission. Was it Papu's new bicycle or a saree for his 'darling' can't be surely established, but the briefing for the mission was certainly there. So he asks my friend for a 'chhota mota settlement'...
The dear friend starts a hand-shake with 'Kya sir, aapke bache jaise hain sir' with the cop & suddenly quips 'Yaar sir ke saath ek photo toh liyo yaar!'
We are declared 'not guilty' and 'released'...
Welcome to Delhi, where everyone's evil!

Aversion

Khud mein jo dhundta hun tanhaayi ka sabab,
koi hal nahin milta mujhko.
Poochh toh lun tujhse magar darta hun,
kahin tanhaa na kar dun tujhko...

Arbit Wisdom

The shit is always smellier on the other side...

Arbit Wisdom

You can have big dreams even if you're an insomniac...

A year gone bye…

A year comes to an end.
And Delhi grows older. The Chandni Chowks, the Jama Masjids and the dusty by-lanes of the Sarais are slowly withering away, coming face to face with the reality that sooner or later, they will be mere names mentioned in nostalgic conversations. Or sepia toned photographs in expensive coffee table books. Or untouchable artifacts in a godforsaken gallery of some archaic museum.
A year comes to an end.
And Delhi is still the same. It's enticings of money, success, fame, power still enchant herds from the hinterland to throng its promising pastures. It still sweats and thirsts in the sultry summers, drenches and quenches in the showers of the monsoons and shivers and sleeps in the chilly winters. It still rushes through the days and the nights and the times in between as if stuck in a time warp.
A year comes to an end.
And Delhi is evolving. The walled city turns into a glazed metropolis, with buildings overshadowing each other with architectural authority. The giant keeps on growing and expanding into a complex maze of Greater Xs and Phase Nths, gobbling up erstwhile barren territories with tarmac and concrete. The view gets glitzier and flashier, revealing newer dimensions of lust and greed veiled in a garb of progress and lifestyle.
Another year of living in Delhi comes to an end.
And I keep ageing/languishing/evolving with it.