How to commit Suicide?

Failed in exams? Parents don't love you anymore? The one you love is fcuking someone else? You hate yourself? People don't read your blog? People read your blog but don't leave comments? Your job sucks? Your boss is a doof and your co-workers are back-stabbing loosers? The whole world is out to get you?

Chill.
We have just the thing you need, fates have guided you to the right blog post, because what you need is a Suicide.
Yes.
Kill Yourself! but (How?) you ask. The world is full of un-imaginative idiots who have made suicide look like something bad and idiotic, it’s time you took control of your life and the way it should end.It's time,you took suicide to a higher level. No stupid cutting, jumping, ropes, guns or poisons involved, this is suicide like you have never heard before. This is what imagination does to you.
Let's not delay the inevitable and move on to the three top slow and steady my ways to cash in your chips, go west to meet the maker! (why slow and steady you ask? Because that makes sure you win the race ;))
Here we go:

1) Fall in love-- Love, as they say, is the slowest form of suicide. Once in it, you are going to die. The road to happily never after is littered with evil intentions and broken hearts, you walk a mile in a three legged race of love and the road forks. Sweet. Either you succeed and have a "happy ending" (Ending is the keyword here) or you fail and die bit by bit inside. Very interesting and novel way to die, of course half the world is doing it without even realizing it. That is what makes this fun.

2) Chase a dream-- Dreams are nothing but remains of a bad night's sleep. If you go chasing dreams on mountains of hope, your dreams will turn around and bite you in the face. Then they will jump off the mountain and start flying, while your face will be headed on a super-fast Hello to Mr. Ground of Reality. That can break a man or a woman, from inside and when you die there, no glue or doctor can join you back again. Chasing dreams is a risky method and a complex one, slow and simple, but sure.

and as a bonus method,

3) Read MY BLOG everyday-- Congrats, you are already on your way to the pearly gates pits of hell. Word by word these sentences will crawl in your brain through your eyes and push your brain through your ears till there is no more space left in your head for anything but this fukced up blog. A slow, and a very painful death.

That's all for now. I guess.



-=-=-=-

Suicide is a self expression. Hope this helps.

;)

Proud to be a Vegetarian

It occured to me how I never shared with anyone regarding my evolution into a vegetarian. It happened after a post on selfishness and the post following it (which carried forward the issue raised in Selfishness). The comments that were left on those two posts also helped me make up my mind.

:)

After having witnessed the Mumbai terror attacks (albeit via TV and newspapers), I am crystal clear about my stand and feel good about it. For our survival, we need to destroy something or someone. In other words, selfless survival is not possible. The only thing that we can do, if we do want to keep living, is to choose how cruel we want to be.

All of the following are forms of destruction, but in increasing order of cruelty (that’s a personal opinion):

    - killing plants to feed ourselves

    - killing animals to feed ourselves when there is nothing else to eat

    - killing animals to feed ourselves even when plants are available

    - killing animals for pleasure / luxury clothing / luxury bags

    - killing a human-being when it is absolutely necessary for our survival

    - killing a human-being for any other reason than that mentioned above

Terrorists would belong to the last group (most cruel) and a vegetarian would belong to the first group (least cruel). Gandhi had gone a step ahead – he had even stopped eating killed plants and had taken to only fruits (further less cruel). I might not be Gandhi but I asked myself if it was possible for me to climb down the cruelty ladder at least by one step. The answer to that was an obvious ‘Yes, Priyanka’ – and that was when I stopped eating animal flesh.

Also, it felt odd to refuse the chicken cooked with so much love by so many people (obviously wasn’t aware of the transition) that I ate it quietly.I know that I am a vegetarian now and I shall remain one for the rest of my life because there is no other way I can be true to myself, I say.

Cheers to all Veges!

:)

To Do

While sitting in the balcony today, I am sleeping for the last 30 mins and now when I am wide awake, I am typing this shit. Its not that its the first time I am awake till this time. For me, its a routine and today was nothing special. My life is pretty mundane. It’s so mundane that many a times when I think of ending it, it gets difficult for me to reason out why I should not. Pretty freaky, I say. I mean I get up – I brushed my teeths – I work – I travel – I read books – I draw sometimes – I write blog posts – I learn new things – I talk to people – I eat. I drink. And there it goes. This is life. Where is the reason to keep struck in this loop? I am sure I will die soon and hence listing out the things that I want to do before I die:

• Read 1000 books and then write one myself (I think the current count is less than 400).
• Ride a Jeep: XJ - 2002 Model and Goa preferably
• Release a Music Album.
• Climb Mt. Everest (need a much higher paying job to accomplish this one).
• Adopt a baby girl (if I actually do this, I might probably have to live for a long long time but then, it   would be every bit worth it in that case).
• Ride a horse from Manali to Leh – self supported.
• Play the role of a villain in a Bollywood flick.
• Work for 17000 ft. foundation.
• Own a coffee shop in Maldives.

:)

Senseless

I love words. I can’t remember them.
I thought I would buy a home in Naggar. I wouldn’t buy one. I told my friend that I would call her. I wouldn't call her.I talk daily. I don’t watch TV. The TV watches me. If deadlines were on a cricket-pitch I would have been a popular no-bowler (not the best though). I love preaching anger management. I get angry. The past is dead and buried. It haunts me sometimes. Bites like a snake. Non-venomous – for I am alive.

The dust that is there. Everywhere. Grey. White. Misty. Choking. Polluting. Eye-hurting. Irritating. I have a hanky. I have made triangles out of them and covered my nose and my mouth. I have big shades. I have put them over my eyes. The dust does little harm now. But I hear the flying, wafting, humming particles laugh at me sometimes. They know the cloth is going to go away. And so are the shades. But I pretend I don't hear them laugh. May be I don’t. I pretend my eyes never get moist. May be they don’t. I know I am alive. May be I am not.

Senseless it is.

Just a Question of Time

Am I really getting old?
Or just older. I'm still not on the other side of 30 yet but once you've crossed 23 and you are inching towards that figure, you can sense the subtle changes in and around you. The worldview begins to alter, at first subtly so that you can take it in calmly, and then it comes like a sock in the face, throwing you totally off-balance.

Right now, I think I'm in the middle of those two stages. I still feel young, but so much older than last year: there seem to be more than 12 months that have passed in this last year,I say.

Since last year, some of my friends were so busy socializing with friends and friends of friends and their friends. But, in the last 12 months or so, I have unconsciously sorted and sifted from our long list of acquaintances people whom I really care to be with, people whom I can look forward to meeting without thinking of what we should wear. The others have gradually disappeared from my life without so much of pain. Now, it's more about hanging out with our bunch of friends, having effortless conversations, enjoying the comfortable silence between us or even being reprimanded for getting too drunk!
We're this really social , but we don’t care any longer about making new friends. There's just no time or energy for it now - this long-drawn process of initiating conversations, finding common ground and finally bonding. After a hard day's work, you want to be with people who know you like strong chai than a diet coke. :)
And the conversations are slowly veering towards practical aspects of Life.I don’t even remember what my friends with children used to talk about before they became mums and dads!
I have no notes to share with them, but we’re still part of those conversations that make us feel like we’re old enough to be parents. :D
When did I stop being young and care free, footloose and fancy free? When did I start thinking about my Life, time and what not ?
Must have happened around the same time that I have started referring to college students as "kids"!
In the last week, I've attended two parties where the average age of guests was about 20 years. At one of the parties, there was a really cute boy talking to we people. And I could only look at him and think what a kid he is! It felt horrible to not feel my nerves tingle just a little bit under his glare. It felt horrible that I just didn't care that he was staring at me so unabashedly and all I could give him back was a patronizing look of 'you-don't-know-how-much-older-I-am-than-I-look'. Their music is different, their moves are different. And there is a freshness on their face, a sparkle in their eyes that makes me feel old.
My exuberance for life seems lackluster before theirs probably because I've seen enough of life to stop dreaming with my eyes open, I guess. Remember what I said about growing old, because I no longer can believe in my dreams?
It’s true, I think.
There are so many other things that no longer seem the same: the clothes I pick up, the shoes I wear, the junk ear rings, the watch.I can no longer get myself to wear, the funky stuff I still love but relate only to college days.The mellowing down, dispensing advice, speaking from experience – it all reeks of a slow process of aging. It’s the same process that forces you to opt for facials more often, to check your calorie count more carefully and wear the kohl in your eyes a little thinner.

It's more than just in the mind, I say. And you?
:)

Smile.

If I boiled down everything in my life, it would probably fit into 1,728 cubic inches of space. This small box would have little odd things in it, such as pictures of my rather large family, Khalid Hussein books, a rosary, ear phones, my watch, Ghazals ,coffee mug and some diaries, among other things. These peculiar objects represent the little pieces of me, and compose who I am.
But just who am I? I have battled with this question for years, and I admit I’m still finding the answer. But so far I have discovered that I am old, a victim of acne, and nearly legally deaf and dumb. I am insecure psycho, a worrier who cares a little too much about how everything. I am someone who wishes to follow her heart, yet can’t seem to decipher what it wants.
And yet I know I want so much more out of life.
Every day, I smile.I smile in greeting to good friends, when I view my favorite shows, or when I witness something spectacular. I smile when I hear a good joke, or when my day is going by just perfectly. I have the kind of smile that reflects my joy in the things around me and that leaves me open to be hurt.
Although smiling is a simple action, it is a highly influential one. I share my smiles as openly as I can to reach out to others across short distances, to connect in even that small way. I consider smiles to be bridges between people. I flash one every day in hopes that I can receive one in return, and build friendships. Since I haven't yet discovered who I am on my own, perhaps a few friends could help me on the quest. And by connecting with one, two, or hundreds of individuals, maybe then I will discover just how great life can be.

Smile.
And yet I know I want so much more out of life.
:)

Call

She realized that her cell-phone was ringing. Before she could press the receive-button, the call got disconnected. She checked if the number was saved on her cell. Yeah, it was. It was a missed call from none other than ‘B’ himself! He called finally! He is back!!

As she waited for his call so that she could pick up this time, her mind drifted back in time. B had been everything to her and this was so not a very long time back. She adored him as a person, loved him as a friend, respected him for his principles and deep within her she also had a liking for him. She was not sure if it was love or anything, but then she couldn’t deny the possibiliy too. She didn’t know what love was after all!

Things were going on fine. They met regularly and they often watched movies. They used to have fun in the beach followed by coffee in restaurants. And then suddenly, one day B had to go out of town. He never gave a reason. She tried to know where he was going to and what for, but he just didn’t tell. And he left.

It had been almost an year now. She had no clue where he was, how he was. He never replied to any e-mails, his cell was always unreachable and the permanent phone no: or address was unavailable. She had almost given up on him. Yes, she had almost forgotten him, when suddenly today she saw his missed call.

The cell was ringing again. It was him. She pressed the ‘receive-button’. And as soon as she pressed it, there was a blast. A pretty powerful blast which should have shaken structures even five miles away! She was blown to pieces. The entire office space was reduced to steel and concrete skeleton and the building had collpased and was kissing the earth.

Yes, he was back for sure.

For the first time.

Hum ek baar jeetay hain, ek hi baar marte hain, ek hi baar shadi karte hain, aur pyaar, pyaar bhi ek hi baar karte hain.

Rahul told his mother, who looked back at him , eyes half filled with tears.
I was in 9th std, when I saw it for the first time Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, and I think, it was after watching Rahul, Anjali and Tina's eternal love story for the third time that I started to think about this particular dialogue. I didn't really agree with Shahrukh Khan there.The point being , I don't think if you lose one love, you van never fall in love again. :)

I used to watch a lot of movies and when I say a lot, I mean a lot. I learn a lot from them too. (This, also, I must have learned from some movies). Well, many people laugh at times for watching so many movies and reading hell lot of novels.

Anyway, before we go ahead, I must tell you few things about myself. I am a quarter century old , and I think I have already been in Love for around 6-7 times. However, I don't have a single idea what it is.
And like most of the 24 year olds, I crib my life sucks.
My brain sucks.I can listen to music 18 hours of 24 hours. These days, I am in kanpur where everything is so peaceful and calm and serene and slow that nothing bloody moves at all.
Moreover, people know how to swear ( baat baat pe kasam se ) and use words like teri maa ki aur teri bahan ki @#%#$%^#$ and all ! like the air they breathe!

Uuuhh!

Sorry :(

must not lose my temper.

Let me start with my first love story out of 100s :)
Year: 1989
I still remember that day I was named . I had turned 2 - old enough to be put in school, everything had been settled , teachers, etc-

I was named as Priyanka.
At that time, I was fascinated with this name. I really loved it. Anyway, that is that day I was named: PRIYANKA and so, there I was fully aware of the fact that I was the cutest kid on earth, marching to my new school with my parents.Completely unaware of the fact who I was gonna meet there- the first love of my Life - Ketan. :)

I remember him very clearly. The memory of his face still doesn't fail to bring a smile on my face. His face was...it was.so perfect...and....round..that, it looked.....just...exactly like a ..nice round, white, tempting Roti.

I don't really remember exactly how we first met but I do recall that I really wanted to marry him, and that he was my 'best friend' and that we used to have loads and loads and loads of fun together!

I don't remember what we used to do together but we used to sit together in the class and the teacher used to love to see us together, saying:
"So lovely! you two look together" 
We talked a lot.I could not imagine life without him, school without him, anything in this world without him.I was crazy about him.
Man, really, I was! :)
He was the only person, I would think about, all day. I crossed all the limits in his love and one of the worst things I did - developed a habit of writing his name with mine and unaware about everything around me, deeply engrossed in his thoughts, picturing us together, I would tilt my head to one side very fondly and write his name with mine, everywhere. And then, I once made one of the biggest mistakes ever, till date-scribbled his name with mine, on my Papa's account book!
Well, I wont tell you much about the consequences, but lets just say that I almost died that day.

And was reborn.
With time, we grew closer. Today, I remember nothing about him.

I knew quite a bit about marriage and stuff as my Tauji's daughter had got married like three months before I was put to school and I also knew that if you gonna seven times round a fire with a girl/boy wearing wedding clothes, God will you a baby as well :D

"Where is your house?", I said.

"Its behind the petrol pump". He said.

"OK". I said.

And after that day, whenever my dad would come back after work, I would ask him every single day.
Papa, gaadi mein petrol dalwane chalein?

At times, Dad would say we have enough petrol. At which, I would get very upset and depressed and say that I wanted to go to the petrol pump.Sometimes, he would take me for a ride to the petrol pump to fill petrol and I keep looking out for Ketan's home, all the time.

Sounds funny?

After, few days, I thought, he might be staying in a house, which was behind some other petrol pump.

But, sadly the search ended with no success.Time passed and the year came to an end. It was time to part- time to leave the prep school. I didn't know what was going to happen.
Without his company I felt life had come to an end. Only toys and ice cream would make me happy. I was sure that I was gonna turn into a Devdas when I grew up. I had seen the movie, it was in black and white. The guy was very good looking and he was not able to be together with his love and started drinking a lot, developed a cough, which the doctors called TV and died in the end.

I had already developed a cough. Yes, I did.

But you know what?

Life goes on.

The cough was cured within a week or so and my parents had already decided the school they were going to put me into next. All this while I was just praying to God for one thing- "Oh God, please let Ketan be in the same school that I am gonna be into".

PS: When I think about my first love story today, I think, that is where it ends and hence I felt weird today.

Disclaimer: The characters in this post are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Happy reading! :)

A Voice

Staring at the lit cigarette resting between his fingers, he wondered what lied ahead in life. Was he like a burning fag himself?

A voice came from the cigarette.
Hi dude, thinking about me?
Hey hi, yeah. Kinda.
I was wondering if you like me as well. You know, burning, reducing, waiting for the end, while others suck me up and enjoy. I mean, look at you. Your life is a shit, total shit. Aint it?

All I know about my life is that once I get lit, I know I am not going to last for more than few minutes. This is all there is about my life. And I don’t mind being sucked up. This is what my job is.That’s cool man, you at least know your purpose in life. That’s cool. Half of the human beings don’t even know that.

Dude, you are missing on something here. I didn't choose this job. I was like, I never had the option to choose my own purpose. You've got that. You got the option to pick your purpose! And you still complaining?
What a jerk!

You dare call me a jerk. Do you even realize that in like another minute, whether you like it or not, me going to rub you off underneath my shoe. Do you fucking realize that?
Well, I don't feel like talking to you. Finish me up and crush me. Do you really think I care about what you are going to do with me when you have used me?

Neither do I.Fuck off.

He didn't feel like finishing the fag. Bloody fag. What an attitude! It deserved to be crushed. He threw it and stamped upon it.He sat there, staring in blank for sometime. He reached out for the packet and pulled out another fag. He lit it. Staring at the lit cigarette resting between his fingers, he wondered what lied ahead in life.
Was he like a burning fag himself?

PS: Dedicated to all my loving smokers! :D

Cold.

Darkness was approaching. He didn't move. A leaf fell down from a tree above. His eyes followed the path traced by the falling leaf in the cold and wet air. It wasn't just the air that was wet. He was wet too. It had been a life time. He just hadn't moved from that broken bench that he had occupied earlier in the day. It had rained couple of times in the day. Many leaves had fallen since then. He had tried not to miss a single on of them. The leaves reminded him of something. Someone. The falling leaves.

It was dark. The unattended park had no neon lamps to boast of. The only light that was to be seen came from a far off pan-shop. He couldn't see but he could figure out that now, he was the only soul left in there. Sitting on the same broken bench. The dark green color of the bench was nothing but pitch black. So much like his life. Black. His eyes could follow the leaves no more. The leaves continued falling. He focused. He could listen to them. Falling. And then it started raining again.

It started with a drizzle but picked up soon. His slightly dried up body was getting drenched once again. He didn't mind it. He wanted it. He wanted things to change. He wanted things to happen. He wanted the cold water in the cold evening to touch him and whisper music in his ears. He wanted to be away from civilization. He was away from civilization.

The thudding sound of an engine came from somewhere. The intensity increased, stayed constant for some time and then stopped. A motorcycle. He could also listen to two men talk. Like a crocodile, he acted. He suddenly had cold metal in his hands. He suddenly was looking through a lens. He was looking at the men. The unaware men. Infra-red. He was fast. Bang. First shot. Bang. Second shot. A leaf fell down from a tree above.
Dead, he was.

Image Credits: Borayin Maitreya Larios

Politics.

Lying on my bed, ready to sleep early, as I was reading Nehru’s Autobiography, I read something that I had to share with you all and so I jumped up, switched on the laptop and here it is (quoting from page 139 of the book) -

Politics, says an American Socialist (quoted by Sir Stafford Cripps), “is the gentle art of getting votes from the poor and campaign funds from the rich by promising to protect each from the other.”

Makes me think.

Alright, back to book and bed.

:)

Krishna says

Krishna says in the Bhagvad gita : "Whenver adharma surpasses the limit. He will incarnate on earth"

So, I wonder that he has not done so yet implies that the evil, which we fret about, has not transcended limits. His statements could allude to the evil within each of us and incarnate to purge, cleanse and establish dharma within us!
Did he not make a highway robber into Maharshi Valmiki, did he not transform the miser into Purandara Das and did not Kartikeya transform the flesh hungry youngster into a poet saint Arunagirinathar?
I guess, the collections goodness of mankind seeks a medium to express itself and manifests as god liners in few individuals whom we worship as saints and prophets!
So, the collective evil within all of us seeks to find an expression and manifests in few individuals whom we call as demons.

There is enough goodness outside of us and we just need only to focus our vision and change our perception on the canvas instead of the picture!

:)