Farms and Farmville

After a much needed hiatus, I’m back to virtual world and with gusto…(huh!) O’yea, been practicing farming on my 16 x 16 farmland with 5-cows, ducklings, sheep’s, and few hen. Yards of pineapple trees, and land that bore artichokes, peppers, strawberries, wheat…the farm looks fantastic and makes me itchy. And, I keep so busy with all those sloughing and harvesting that often I end up the day with a pirate bath. Eeeks!

O.K., you don’t need seasons to change to grow crops; they are timed and you need to calculate the numbers of ploughed lands and crops; get them hackneyed within the time (else wilted) and keep movin’. Ain’t that a fun? Yea…I got no reasons to commit hara-kiri for failed crops. Everything seems to be growing here. When you visit the farm the corn was knee-high or the cows’ are so full that you need to give them an udder-fuck. (Ouch!)

Overall, it’s fun and I’m the mayor who passed a law stating ‘no whistling on the farm’…does anybody care?

I’m…Man Abbreviated

Some thirty years ago…I born (coz’ the mother was pregnate!!). ‘Twas chilly December when things might have been either frozen OR GOD was getting all cheesy puffs over the idea of humans making baby. Since then, I got to life with no football, no praises, no friends, and seriously nobody ever. A life abbreviated.

Okay! What I was talking? A…about myself. I was ugliest of them all, dumbest of them all, and the ONLY gay among them all. Thus, I was silent of them all. All through my childhood. Always! Talk in mono-syllables, walk in pitch darkness I find an escape route to remain closeted. Thirty years…for such a long time – I was nothin’ but an uglyfuck.

School days happen and passed, but forgotten. I belong to group of Forgotten Children only to be discovered by the school bards’ over the Internet as a chirpy flake. Jesus! What the Hell? Life got real messy with *jobs* (with some 7 companies and hordes of projects) and all said, ‘You did it better but NOT the best.’ Fortune (Luck!) greeted to the one who knows the least while I sulk and continue with life no football, no praises, no friends.

A life abbreviated and always the uglyface.

I’m Net-elebrity

Disclaimer: For those who follow me…I intentionally dropped the ‘c’ to sound humble-pie however, the real reason was to escape the most difficult words since I stutter mostly with difficult ‘c’ or‘s’. If you still wondering what it is…honey! I’m a Net-Celebrity.

Ah! Seriously, I never expected somebody to call me that in my weirdest of all fantasies (I got many…so don’t ask which one) but quite flattered. Now, about this gentleman who’s Punjabi-Australian-Chinese-Kannadigan-Tamil descent staying in Singapore is new to my list and seriously mugging up the words from my blog…is my current favorite.

Well…not because he called me ‘a celebrity’ but he’s 24 and young blooded and loves mature. In fact, last night I spend a considerable time to imagine every inch of his *tool*with all precision and wondering how it remain unscratched. Nyways! It’s none of my business…and I’m quite contented with AZ’s. But Net-elebrity???

You're celebrity PI now. You're the story, dude. What? You followers sneak into my private chambers and read out every detail on ‘what I eat?’, ‘how I feel?’, ‘when I last got naked?’ Is there anything called ‘a censor board’. Fine! I don’t need one. Let them all see me with my bare essential. Coming back to this young Punjabi-Australian-Chinese-Kannadigan-Tamil descent (who must be reading this) I’m still trying to figure him by inches yet ‘a big thank you!’ At least, you make me a reason to revive my blog after a hiatus. Thanks for that.

Love'ya! (Waving my hands and offering air-kisses...) Stop acting moron.

Random Thoughts

Given up! Thoughts dismantle and tumble…ideas goes discreet and unnoticed. From cluttered to politeness, to bold to meekness; I groom. Sounds crazy, no? I’ve changed and changed a lot…In last 8-months, I dreamt of him. I made long and short trips to be with HIM for a couple of hours and felt his touch to every pore. Now, even the small prayers have HIM and I wish to join him to a frozen wasteland and marry him there?

Helpless now, I stand with him, watching his dreams grow stronger. Oh, I know, isn't it wonderful? I feel like a whole new person! I've never had this much fun in my entire life! I feel so good and confident about myself and Him! Let me a small wish: ‘Be with me forever’ and I promise ‘I do.’

All for Love

Okay! Today we're having a little pop quiz. Think for a moment and then write your answer below. So sharpen your number 2 pencils and put your thinking caps on. Ready? Here's a quote: ‘Did it make any change to your life, with the archaic law losing the tag to criminalize ‘us’? Does life change after that?’

Let me take my take. It doesn't change a thing, but even so... After thirty and half years, it's nice to know. If God lived on earth, people would break his windows! And, ask for a match…later to dump and continue living with loneliness. But, it did… (though few baby steps)…bring a change. And, now we dreamt of wedding nights!

Still, the question lingers ‘Do you love me?’ I suppose he does and I suppose I love you too.

Mysore - 151 Days

It’s either coming to full circle or settling with my wandering boots, I'm personally disappointed and confused with the way my life is shaping up from nothing to nothingness. It all began with February 2006 and life thence, unsettled.

Living as a nomad, [the worst thing that I've realized that long-time back but failed to resurrect], I've gradually distanced from all and everyone. The feeling gives a numb expression similar to last hours of passengers in Flight 447; inching to its doom and now lost. Now, the entire world seeks for an answer, 'what's gone wrong?' Do you have any clue? NAHH...

What if, sometime later, a passenger stays afloat from the heart of Atlantic Ocean and narrates the untold hour. (Hmm!) My life is quite similar to. What, if some day, somebody tells me what's gone wrong with me since 2006. I think, I know it all and have lost hope long time back. I lost myself to nothingness and the feeling is numb.

Mysore morning; Time: 9.16 A.M. sitting alone in my desk I'm trying to recoil. My resignation letter is yet to be typed. The office boy wiping the un-manned chambers with an unclean duster; Ain't they all doing things because they have to? Ain't they all doing alike?

I'm a sage who lost his hymns and the tambourine rings.

Chat Version

People [which not necessarily men] shower me with compliment for having wittiful remarks, and writing them naively by nicely. Here's one of the extract[s] from one of the recent chit-a-chit and interestingly, I'm mesmerized of the fact...how truely people judged me.

31. May. 2009 - 18:18
Hi
Rahul 31. May. 2009 - 18:20
Hi
May. 2009 - 18:22
I think we have spoken b4 on phone, m I right.
Rahul 31. May. 2009 - 18:23
Forgotten...lost my memory, few days back. Can you help me to recall?
31. May. 2009 - 18:26
I'm Faraz, work with Infosys...any bells ringing?
Rahul 31. May. 2009 - 18:28
Well, you never called me after talking to me over the phone, once upon a night. Did I recall you correctly?
31. May. 2009 - 18:40
Yes! That sure is me! I lost Ur number since I nvr saved it, n then...cudnt find u here too.
Rahul 31. May. 2009 - 18:44
I am sooooooooooooooo nondescript that finally, I'm written off...and no mobile book could do the honor of storing my name for some lame reason. So, let's learn from our actions...what's not done should never be. Hence, let's NOT UNDONE things now.
31. May. 2009 - 18:47
Lol...this is what I was in need of...a sudden but wondrous jumbo of words! Love u for that! ;)
Rahul 31. May. 2009 - 18:50
I'm man with abundance of word and hence, keep dropping it here and there...Few people think its precious while other finds it hilarious. The rest of the crowd call me lunatic. I love the third one coz' they know me the best.

-Regards
Blogger

GenNext Election

Let’s make some interesting chaos. As India votes for 2009, electioneering has stooped to a record low and I’m enjoying the brickbats. (Monologue: Do Indian people care?) Much of the political rallies and stage shows end with ‘blue-collar netas’ winning charge sheets and pay the bail. Interesting…!

And, yea! The inflammatory speech (the new thingee); which lacks inflammation and garner to media hype. Let’s look at this way, “I’m a born to a Hindu mother and sold my heart (or my ass!) to a Muslim man. I carry both the chromosomes and willingly converted.”

Mr. Gandhi, I’ve an advice for you. The game plan is perfect but its’ not what a GenNext expects today. Agree, the impetuous, misguided boy is growing up fast. (Monologue: Do India care anyway?)

Ehsas!

यह मेरे कानो में तुने क्या कह दिया

संवर गयी ज़िन्दगी मेरी

पहले भी कहा था, किसीने कभी

वोह प्यार नही, तू गैर नही

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इस रात से कह दो, थम जाए आज

की अभी मैं यार के बाँहों में सोया हूँ

कल फिर होगी सुबह, फिर वही तन्हाई

अब रातों में तड़पते हम अकेले तोह नहीं

Tweedledum and Tweedledee

Finally, I decided to do some serious blogs and look at the world around me. And, what’s best but to catch the catfights (can’t stop being gay) on nation’s biggest soap opera – ‘India Votes’. Honestly, no one does it better than the politicians when it comes to selling dream, Nah! Hollywood is clichéd. (Remember: As a common being, you have a single task to do – book the ticket or cast it, whichever way you like.)

Hmm! Lemma look at the most funniest of them and voila – all looks punks. But, the unchallenged ‘desi diva’ from West Bengal or Mamata-di (who I’m sure would have given Silk Smitha - the infamous sex oomph from South) is dearest of dear. She’d have given her a run for money and life, if she were alive. Ah! It’s not being imaginative but I’m serious. Have you ever counted her adjusting the pallu to cover the unchewed bosoms? That’s being too suggestive Mamata-di.

A deep down analysis on this woman shows her losing foothold and obstinacy from CPM-bashing that made her darling to Bengal junta until she’s exposed. The debacle of Singur and later Nandi gram, followed with Nano made her the exemplary ‘neta’ with anti-industrial bastion and credibility dissuade.

I find great similarity between these two ladies:

• first both of them use their tongues unnecessarily in public
• secondly, they’re always shabbily dressed and drawing close attention to their heavy breasts
• third, lacks adequate motivation and has settled down playing a cameo with top grosser
• last but least, comfortable in swapping with unpredictable partners

In fact, both acts childish even at 40s with desirable ambition lost and ideologies (do they ever had one) changing every seconds. Interestingly, I got to this newsfeed, “A few years ago, Mamata Banerjee of the Trinamool Congress claimed to have a doctorate from “East Georgia University,” which is no more real than London Oxford University.” Interesting... (hmm!) And, she swear not to ride the ‘Nano – the budget car from the house of Tata’ (unless, she’s given a complimentary drive, ofcourse).

The great rise and fall of ‘once a superwoman’ reminds me nothing else but the sexy-siren from South famous for her thunder thighs and rolling tongue who find substantial repute with critics for one-time classic and never regained.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee.