The height of being at the flop end of things often glides you to places that have an uncanny knack of talking to you albeit the unspoken, strangely amusing way. Though that end, or your presence there has barely any logical correlation with you being led into such places. Or, may be I'm still growing up.

On this seemingly insignificant/regular morning of my life, as I woke up with the omnipresent choleric look on my face I heard that semi-reluctant knock on the door intensifying the look manifold. The gradually phasing out reluctance did give me the hint about who was most likely to come for me at this hour of the day, and not give up until I return the knocking with exactly what she had come looking for. It was my landlady's daughter who came and took the only 500 rupee left in my wallet with a promise to return it with the other one thousand bucks she had taken under similar circumstances when everything in her life went wrong at once. But, I understood. Everything does go wrong at the same time, that's the thing about everything.

:-)

I have got 25 years (almost) of solid experience backing me up, when I talk LISTEN to me.

Motherfucker.

Eyes

The tear that was about to fall
to overcome the fear that seemed so small

Another day, another moment
words flowing; a few said, a lot unspoken

All in your eyes oh lover
even if they don't see you ever

jald, bohot jald!!!

Here he "LIES"

The latest development in a far flung(/lame arse/poor) nation in africa where One Hundred Thousand Crore people willingly drank gallons of petrol to prove nothing at all, the sole earthly justification found dates back to September the 2nd, 1986. Wonder what happened?!

Sri Lankan army chief suspects America of running a factory that produces "Weapons of Mass Destruction" in Connecticut. They have plans of bombing Connecticut and its neighboring states (Just in case!) with ANYthing they can get their hands on. The concerned American consulate general in Sri Lanka finally broke his silence on this critical ( Don't we have enough black people already!) issue and has made some absurd connection with the AS critical issue of One Hundred Thousand Crore Africans (Now ALL shades of black have gone nuts!) drinking themselves silly.

Shahid Afridi in a smashing revelation has expressed his support for the Americans in the "War for peace" against Sri Lankans. "Hamare yahan Sri Lankan drame chaltey hain". "Hamarey Sri Lankan filmstar bhai Salmanveera kumarachanndrasilva kya oondha naachtey hain". "Hum aaj bhi das sir waale Ram ko raakshas bulatey hain". "World Cup humne aaj nahin 1986 mein haara tha, September mein."

Sonia Gandhi decides to sell Taj Mahal to Italian Prime Minister's step daughter's private Cobbler. The Cobbler has said the brokerage was paid in 1986, he wants it NOW.

A poor(/unrequired) boy in Lucknow fell into a gutter this January. Died immediately. The Pin code of the area was 1986.

A fading Bollywood Superstar fucked his dog. In his defense he said, "Its MY BITCH". The dog was born in 1986.

Yes. I fucked up.

Women

Men, please know that you ARE the better sex and the very fate of humankind depends totally/completely/bloody fucking definitely on you and ONLY you. "The others" are meant to drive bad, write well, talk slow and eventually fuck us up.

DO NOT PUSH ME!

Lookin' Good!

...as he fixes his gaze, the thought of having lost her forever re surfaces with multiplied tribulation. He picks up his pen and begins to scribble as tears trickle down his face on to the paper. He forces a shrug and gets up to shut the door, the infinite silence behind it mocking at his solitude. He pulls himself together and throws away the rest of the picture. The face vanishes, yet the pain remains.

And so it begins...

no khoon maaf please

Why would you kill? Either for a reason OR just no reason at all.

Vishal Bhardwaj articulates his latest film 7 Khoon Maaf around a convenient (confused?) middle path where Susanna (Priyanka Chopra) kills off her beaus one by one for, ah well, SOME reason! With each marriage Susanna is subjected to domestic violence, rape, mental abuse, blackmail and more and, she avenges for every bit of it! By the end of it all, you are neither sympathetic towards her, nor do you loathe her whole heartily for going the extreme route each time. Only if as much attention was paid to HOW as opposed to WHY, you would not be so bored.

The screenplay drags as though a novel, only difference being chapters seemed to be dropped out of choice. You keep wondering if at least one murder is going to be either witty, or intelligent. An extremely monotonous Priyanka Chopra fails to add any layers to an expansive character and is a huge let down whereas the husbands are just overacting their way to a stupid death, even Naseer. Music fails to save any grace and ends up sounding more like just Vishal Bhardawaj inspired. Cinematography is excellent, though only in parts. The low lit European approach by Ranjan Palit suits the gloomy mood of the film but doesn't add much to take the story forward and seems like the only aesthetic choice that works in favour of the film.

Closely following Yeh Saali Zindagi, 7 khoon disappoints and makes you wonder if two of the most awe inspiring film makers of our time have become slaves of their own craft. Why is it that we either get the content wrong, or the craft?!?

Vishal sir, you were given a maafi for Kaminey, please note you are too much of a genius to ask for it 7 baar!!!

Free to...

I'm building a world to see some hope

to be with you and see it through

I'm trying hard to be a lot

at a time when things tend to rot

Overjoying in the circus of love

there's no one good thing in keeping on

I'm building a world thats just me n you

to see through the time of keeping on...

amores perros

Fall in.

Fall out.

Fall in-Playing Cricket.

Fall out-out of inside.

Fall in-Listening to Music.

Fall out-Holding the stomach as tight as possible and then breathing like your arse is on fire.

Fall in-Easy.

Fall out-Falling down.

Out

Fuck you

What is so fucking absurd is HOW FUCKING soon I let in.

Oh but I can let go. Always.

ping pong

Worse gets to worst and that is how it all begins, or ends.

In a dangerously selfish world, it is almost always a good thing to not indulge. And living on the edge like this counts neither as bravery nor as an intellect driven smart arse tactical move. Its coming from the heart and there precisely lies the mother of all fuck ups. Its foolish, isn't it? But heroically speaking, its where the beauty flourishes, pain seems to subside, flowers are omnipresent, life is good and, YOU are fucked. And, fucking hell, you mistake it to be a means to gratify the sexual instinct. Fucked some more!

Oh yeah, no but, well, you know, I will, you should, maybe, OFF COURSE...