Every day, I struggle to get domesticated but with each step I fail like a big thud. In fact, a week ago I dated a psychiatrist he dumped me midway for I was yelling at my colleague who created one more bug (Boy, I was tryin’ to sensitize him on the criticality: don’t you think I am sensible guy). Well… never ask momma dear on that note.
Yes I am overworked and now, malnourished, under-earning, and no-sex long time. Feel like sooner I will turn to a vegetable. Yes, I am running myself ragged with the move, settling in, keeping all the balls in the air. But what’s really killing me is how much I want to be at one of my jobs. My conundrum is this: I want to spend my time making the ranch solvent and successful. I feel compelled to be there, tucked in the hillside with the animals, the activities, even the managerial hardships. Even!
I keep thinking to myself how much of my life is spent practically PAYING for volunteer work coz’ every job get to my nerve (the present one is the best of the examples) sometime or other. Does that mean I am best of all hard-working blokes? Dude, I need some break and sit back to look after those need me.
Now, when I look at myself; all I want is hillside top view to escape. Poetry. To be filled with love. And I feel bereft of each of those. Abandoned by them too. Sic!
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Love @One Night
[Last few lines before a pair chat windows muted. Seriously, it wasn’t for he was bald as a coot with only one tooth but silent sighs embraces both. It has happened twice in my career. Well, in that case, could you please speak slowly?]
…
1:59 A.M. [Sender] Rahul…, what are you doing?
[Myself] You have all my attention…keep going.
2:00 A.M. [Sender]: <<expression hug>>
[Myself]: What for?
2:01 A.M. [Sender]: Will you marry me?
[Long pauses]
…
…
2:05 A.M. [Myself]: What if I nod in confirmation?
[Sender]: A big flirt, you…
[Myself]: Do you think that way? This is awful. It's like reading a 600 year old Penthouse. You know me well and I’m not the muppet or a dumb blonde. You know, I speak the mind raw.
2:07 A.M. [Sender]: Thankfully, you aren’t the blonde.
[Sender] ‘Tomake biye korle mondo hoto nah’ (trans.): You could have been the best thing happen to me.
…
…
2:07 A.M. [Myself]: Feels mutually. I would have been ‘myself’ if I were with you.
[Sender]: What does that mean?
[Myself]: I’m tired being closeted and imitate to world with a broad grin, ‘everything alright…at my end’. I would have been sleeping in my casket smiling; knowing that you hold my hands when they drop me deep down to the core with my earthiness died.
[Sender]: <<expression :kiss>>
…
…
2:09 A.M. [Sender]: Are you catching with the soccer game tonight?
[Myself]: What’s the score?
[Sender]: Italy seems to have brighter chance…to
[Myself]: hmm…
[Sender]: You loved Italy always…ain’t you?
[Myself]: I feel like saying, “huzzoor aatte aate bahut der kar-di/ bahut der se darr pea ankh ladi thi/ dawa lathe lathe bahut der kardi” (trans).
…
…
2:11 A.M. [Sender]: That’s the story of my life.
[Myself]: You remain one of the closest chapter to me...love forever!
[Sender]: Is that the declaration of love, Ours?
[Myself]: You can say that … alas! Let it remain for the moment and with dawn when you walk to the aisle, don’t look back. I might be standing there always, for you to return; selfishly to myself.
[Sender]: I know you’ll be there and its not that we’re going to be there for each other, neways!
<<expression sigh>>
…
…
2:12 A.M. [Myself]: I wish you good-luck and a new life. Don’t return to me again.
[Sender]: Why do you desire that?
[Myself]: When you said…, I'd say yes, but then some fool would just come along and sneak something past us. Should we hold hands? I feel weird. No sooner did I have you, I lose thee. Ain’t I born jinxed.
[The windows go muted for a long time.]
2:45 A.M. [Sender]: <<expression :kiss>>
…
1:59 A.M. [Sender] Rahul…, what are you doing?
[Myself] You have all my attention…keep going.
2:00 A.M. [Sender]: <<expression hug>>
[Myself]: What for?
2:01 A.M. [Sender]: Will you marry me?
[Long pauses]
…
…
2:05 A.M. [Myself]: What if I nod in confirmation?
[Sender]: A big flirt, you…
[Myself]: Do you think that way? This is awful. It's like reading a 600 year old Penthouse. You know me well and I’m not the muppet or a dumb blonde. You know, I speak the mind raw.
2:07 A.M. [Sender]: Thankfully, you aren’t the blonde.
[Sender] ‘Tomake biye korle mondo hoto nah’ (trans.): You could have been the best thing happen to me.
…
…
2:07 A.M. [Myself]: Feels mutually. I would have been ‘myself’ if I were with you.
[Sender]: What does that mean?
[Myself]: I’m tired being closeted and imitate to world with a broad grin, ‘everything alright…at my end’. I would have been sleeping in my casket smiling; knowing that you hold my hands when they drop me deep down to the core with my earthiness died.
[Sender]: <<expression :kiss>>
…
…
2:09 A.M. [Sender]: Are you catching with the soccer game tonight?
[Myself]: What’s the score?
[Sender]: Italy seems to have brighter chance…to
[Myself]: hmm…
[Sender]: You loved Italy always…ain’t you?
[Myself]: I feel like saying, “huzzoor aatte aate bahut der kar-di/ bahut der se darr pea ankh ladi thi/ dawa lathe lathe bahut der kardi” (trans).
…
…
2:11 A.M. [Sender]: That’s the story of my life.
[Myself]: You remain one of the closest chapter to me...love forever!
[Sender]: Is that the declaration of love, Ours?
[Myself]: You can say that … alas! Let it remain for the moment and with dawn when you walk to the aisle, don’t look back. I might be standing there always, for you to return; selfishly to myself.
[Sender]: I know you’ll be there and its not that we’re going to be there for each other, neways!
<<expression sigh>>
…
…
2:12 A.M. [Myself]: I wish you good-luck and a new life. Don’t return to me again.
[Sender]: Why do you desire that?
[Myself]: When you said…, I'd say yes, but then some fool would just come along and sneak something past us. Should we hold hands? I feel weird. No sooner did I have you, I lose thee. Ain’t I born jinxed.
[The windows go muted for a long time.]
2:45 A.M. [Sender]: <<expression :kiss>>
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Another Nazm
हम दिवानो से मिलके, देखो ज़रा
दर्द-इ-ज़माना तुमको याद नहीं
कल भी यह जिद्द थी तुम्हे
आज फिर यह जुस्तजू
अपना हाल-ऐ-दिल
हम कभी सुनाये क्यों न्ही
दर्द-इ-ज़माना तुमको याद नहीं
कल भी यह जिद्द थी तुम्हे
आज फिर यह जुस्तजू
अपना हाल-ऐ-दिल
हम कभी सुनाये क्यों न्ही
Another reason to starve today
Another fuel hike hits motorists (err! non-motorists) since motor drivers are smart enough to add [plus two or plus ten] to the existing meter reading and jibe shamelessly. Non-motorists are clueless; in fact, they are clueless on many accounts. The pressure continues to mount on already struggling commuters to struggle more, first with erratic meters and then the erratic hikes. The increase comes at a bad time when fangs of recession has cause a dent to American fiscal and international policies and third-world governments tightened their cork over ‘subsidy’. Huh!
Why the super-hero Rambo from country of Hollywood step onto Afghanistan with loaded barrels. He fall flat face so does the president. Oiling disunity?
Of late, despite moves to take the sting out of the hikes, while anger fizzled out against government who otherwise stood firm as blasé, let’s look at what has gone wrong with the householder. Grr! I am referring to myself. The price of cooking-gas has increase following the fuel price so I’ve another reason to starve or survive with bland eatables. (Ooh, I turn to a cow). No more bargaining with the auto-drivers who otherwise proficient enough to rip you off at the drop of hat even if it hike or not. Cigarettes are the most easily hiked with no qualms. Indeed, the health conscious politicians in their 70s or 80s prefer smoking cigars. Added to this I have regular taxes and some irregular ones.
What left for me? Maybe hunting for another job in another city.
Why the super-hero Rambo from country of Hollywood step onto Afghanistan with loaded barrels. He fall flat face so does the president. Oiling disunity?
Of late, despite moves to take the sting out of the hikes, while anger fizzled out against government who otherwise stood firm as blasé, let’s look at what has gone wrong with the householder. Grr! I am referring to myself. The price of cooking-gas has increase following the fuel price so I’ve another reason to starve or survive with bland eatables. (Ooh, I turn to a cow). No more bargaining with the auto-drivers who otherwise proficient enough to rip you off at the drop of hat even if it hike or not. Cigarettes are the most easily hiked with no qualms. Indeed, the health conscious politicians in their 70s or 80s prefer smoking cigars. Added to this I have regular taxes and some irregular ones.
What left for me? Maybe hunting for another job in another city.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
A Christian Entourage
It’s another journey after a series of hilltop view around Pune, Medak—80 kilometers from Hyderabad with its boundaries nearing the border line of Warangal is a quick weekend.
Famed for its 1914 cathedral establishment by Charles Walker Posnett, one of the largest Gothic built (next to Vatican) in this part of south-eastern world, Medak Church can accommodate five thousand people at a time. (^o-o^) This exemplar of piety and beauty came up at Medak after a dreadful famine hit the area around World War I and all but decimated it in a relentless three years. Posnett provided with the food for the starving and as an act of gratification to God built the Medak Church with the labor and love of the people.
Stand amidst pomegranate shades and copious yellow bloom the church looks like a pile of white granite that soars to the sky. A lofty 173 ft high at its pinnacle, the church is built on an immense scale measuring 200 ft x 100 ft wide with tiles brought from Italy and soundproof ceiling, cast to give off perfect acoustic results. Added to its architectural brilliance are the huge stained glass paintings depicting Ascension, birth and Crucifixion of Reverend Jesus thus, completing the trilogy. Each window is made up of small bits of painted glass which are glued and then delicately set into the stone windows. The window to the north which offers a canopy to the altar is very fascinating.
What is alarming here is that Christian fundamentalists across opposing sects have been working in unison to state-sponsored conversion game that is quite evident across Andhra Pradesh. (Dude! Keep that stuff outta-box and as a next blog).
Famed for its 1914 cathedral establishment by Charles Walker Posnett, one of the largest Gothic built (next to Vatican) in this part of south-eastern world, Medak Church can accommodate five thousand people at a time. (^o-o^) This exemplar of piety and beauty came up at Medak after a dreadful famine hit the area around World War I and all but decimated it in a relentless three years. Posnett provided with the food for the starving and as an act of gratification to God built the Medak Church with the labor and love of the people.
Stand amidst pomegranate shades and copious yellow bloom the church looks like a pile of white granite that soars to the sky. A lofty 173 ft high at its pinnacle, the church is built on an immense scale measuring 200 ft x 100 ft wide with tiles brought from Italy and soundproof ceiling, cast to give off perfect acoustic results. Added to its architectural brilliance are the huge stained glass paintings depicting Ascension, birth and Crucifixion of Reverend Jesus thus, completing the trilogy. Each window is made up of small bits of painted glass which are glued and then delicately set into the stone windows. The window to the north which offers a canopy to the altar is very fascinating.
What is alarming here is that Christian fundamentalists across opposing sects have been working in unison to state-sponsored conversion game that is quite evident across Andhra Pradesh. (Dude! Keep that stuff outta-box and as a next blog).
Friday, June 6, 2008
Would you mind if I Confess
Of late…I gotcha few names—bitch, honey, slut and surprisingly I wear them with royalty. In fact, nobody knows that I’m a prostitute. (Not even myself) but I turn to one when desperation strikes and out-of utter loneliness you shuffle under the sheet; a hidden life waits for me.
Normally, I take less than 52-seconds to look at the mirror unless it’s the on every secretive Saturday. Since, I’ve realized that I won’t look anything else than what I am no matter how longer I remain glued to my reflex ion. This is no understatement! But, the mesmerizing Saturdays finally piqued my interest to get a manicure, airbrush the cheeks, and fit myself into sleazy underwear (which otherwise I hate to wear for they smell of my sweaty testicles) to buy myself one expensive night, every weekend.
Sitting at one of the dim-lit table with beer mugs and crazy people shouting, abusing, and make love outdoor I sat like a poster boy while dozen men paraded in front of me one by one, like bowls of sushi on a carousel till they realize ‘I’m one among of them’.
The worst thing in life is freedom. If you’ve have in abundance you tend to abandon. True. How generous. Value comes with a price tag. Now, I know that's rubbish. and I suffer meanness. With loud blaring tunes that ceaseless play on a repeat mode I stare at drop-drop gorgeous and ‘forget its’. Psst. There are men of different shapes and sizes took to ramp; thin lips, papery eyelids, box jawbones, and withered hairline or full-lip, curly with his nostrils flared and eyes black and as big as saucers. But nude!
As party goes to animals, the men’s room, as usual turn to a big hotspot. Groping and elbows are the biggest competition and mind ’ya you need to remain too close to a man for a fluke moment. (There is a bit of nipple play on the disc floor few minutes ago.) The ice cubes with which the urinals were piled gradually melts with some angst at the accumulating piss that many drink down.
All gay men just superficial disco bunnies with only one thing on their minds. Civil liberties…huh! You say, gay life is obscene, debasing, and disgraceful. The point is so am I.
Normally, I take less than 52-seconds to look at the mirror unless it’s the on every secretive Saturday. Since, I’ve realized that I won’t look anything else than what I am no matter how longer I remain glued to my reflex ion. This is no understatement! But, the mesmerizing Saturdays finally piqued my interest to get a manicure, airbrush the cheeks, and fit myself into sleazy underwear (which otherwise I hate to wear for they smell of my sweaty testicles) to buy myself one expensive night, every weekend.
Sitting at one of the dim-lit table with beer mugs and crazy people shouting, abusing, and make love outdoor I sat like a poster boy while dozen men paraded in front of me one by one, like bowls of sushi on a carousel till they realize ‘I’m one among of them’.
The worst thing in life is freedom. If you’ve have in abundance you tend to abandon. True. How generous. Value comes with a price tag. Now, I know that's rubbish. and I suffer meanness. With loud blaring tunes that ceaseless play on a repeat mode I stare at drop-drop gorgeous and ‘forget its’. Psst. There are men of different shapes and sizes took to ramp; thin lips, papery eyelids, box jawbones, and withered hairline or full-lip, curly with his nostrils flared and eyes black and as big as saucers. But nude!
As party goes to animals, the men’s room, as usual turn to a big hotspot. Groping and elbows are the biggest competition and mind ’ya you need to remain too close to a man for a fluke moment. (There is a bit of nipple play on the disc floor few minutes ago.) The ice cubes with which the urinals were piled gradually melts with some angst at the accumulating piss that many drink down.
All gay men just superficial disco bunnies with only one thing on their minds. Civil liberties…huh! You say, gay life is obscene, debasing, and disgraceful. The point is so am I.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Celibate Days
Oh, Mooch? I just came by to say to you, I have nothing to say to you. If I had anything to say to you, I'd say it to myself. I’ve a date with work tonight.
Ah! What a lousy month and do not talk about stuff like ‘did you manage to have a date’. I am back to my celibacy and the sole task is to masturbate ceremoniously before I hit the bed.
Ah! What a lousy month and do not talk about stuff like ‘did you manage to have a date’. I am back to my celibacy and the sole task is to masturbate ceremoniously before I hit the bed.
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